Entertainment

Rhinestone cowboy takes last ride

Glen Campbell, the tall, still-handsome singer, pulled opened the door to his Midtown hotel suite with a smile so big the crow’s feet fanned out from the corners of his hazel green eyes. We’d never met, but his “C’mon in” greeting was made for an old friend.

Campbell, 75, is losing his mind to Alzheimer’s disease, but you might not even notice when you speak to him because he seems like the happiest guy on Earth.

Much of the past 50 years — during which he made a TV show, starred in movies and wrote some of the finest country-pop crossover hits ever — is lost to him. His own hits are wrapped in mental fog. Yet Campbell — sitting next to his stunning wife of 29 years, Kim — isn’t troubled.

“This don’t bother me any, for some reason,” Campbell says with an easy Arkansas drawl. “My dad used to say, ‘Whip light and drive slow, pay cash or don’t go.’ ”

That attitude and his condition are reflected on Campbell’s upcoming “Ghost on the Canvas” album. Due on Tuesday, it may be his last recording. It opens with the lovely acoustic track “A Better Place,” on which Campbell sings in his keening tenor, “Some days I’m so confused. Lord, my past gets in my way. One thing that I know, Lord, the world’s been good to me.”

Yet what’s remarkable about this record is that both lyrics and melodies are upbeat and optimistic, totally dodging any hint of melancholy.

When asked what makes him happiest, he turned to Kim and said, “She does. She don’t gimme no . . . no BS, no nothing, and she raised our kids.”

“I don’t remember a lot of the garbage in my life — thank you, Lord,” says Campbell. “It’s just not there anymore. I used to drink a lot of whiskey and I was tooting [cocaine], and she got me out of it all. She said it was that stuff or her. I think I picked right.”

As the disease eats away Campbell’s memories, you might expect him to be angry or self-pitying, but he isn’t.

“I’m very happy. I have . . . what do you call that?,” the singer asks.

“Alzheimer’s, honey,” Kim says.

“What’s that?” Campbell asks.

“That’s where you lose your memories,” she says.

The exchange might sound like a comic routine, but it’s very serious. Just when your eyes begin to well, Campbell flashes that face-wide smile and says, “I haven’t caught on to [Alzheimer’s] yet. I can’t remember everything, so I’m going to take it day by day. That’s all we get.”