The Crooner and the Preacher
The crooner and the preacher –
two, big, smiley faced boys who entertained Hollywood
for years — poor, insecure Midwest boys, both, Wisconsin
and Iowa who could sell brushes to Fuller himself.
A much talented talker and an ever so sweet crooner
who said “This is the day the Lord hath made…” — to kick
things off and “Never say goodbye, say Caio.” — to wrap it up.
Their gray-haired, upper Midwest fans watched on Saturday evening
and then Sunday morning.
They always played to the crowd.
One hid whom he loved and what he was and the
other hid behind diets and face lifts and what he was
and they both loved wearing those flowing
robes that swished and swirled like Loretta
Young’s or Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen’s when they entered from stage left.
Perhaps they had watched on T.V. from their Midwest homes and said,
“I can do that,” and practiced – one behind an orange crate pulpit
and the other in front of an old, upright piano.
The crooner’s museum is for sale and the cathedral has
been sold and that’s entertainment and the show must go on.
Two insecure, eversoneedy, pudgy, little
boys from the Midwest who only wanted to be loved.
The crooner reaches across from the
other side for the preacher’s hand and says, “Caio.”