HIS MOTHER WROTE HIM A LETTER AND CALLED HIM AN EMBARRASSMENT — 1965. Kris Kristofferson was a Rhodes Scholar. A U.S. Army Captain. A Ranger. A helicopter pilot. West Point had just offered him a position teaching English literature. He turned it down to mop floors at Columbia Records in Nashville for $58 a week. His mother put it in writing. She told her son she would have rather had a gold star in her window — the kind families hung for sons killed in war — than to see what he was doing with h