When I first got into this business some forty years ago, there were so many legends still at it.  Icons who were a part of the birth of Rock and Roll, the British Invasion, the Television Variety Show circuit, Woodstock, Hair Bands, Motown, Soft Rockers, Head Bangers, Red Skelton, Tony Orlando and Dawn, Sonny and Cher, Funkadelics, Crooners, Hee Haw, American Bandstand, Soul Train, Punks, Johnny Carson, the list goes on.

On the day I am writing this, George Wendt, “Norm” from the television show “Cheers,” passed away.  Norm was supposed to live forever.

These days, so many of those original legends are gone.  In the grand scheme of things, it all happened so fast!  I just can’t get over how many entertainers have passed on or just hung up the microphone in retirement.

So now, when I have an opportunity to bring to one of our classic stages someone who has been part of the show-biz scene for decades, I literally jump at the chance.  So many of them are still humble, appreciative and so giving.

One such individual has become not only one of my favorite showmen to present, but also one of my most valued friends in the biz.  I am referring to Arnold George Dorsey.  You may know him as Engelbert Humperdinck.

I have worked with him on several occasions.  He was always prim and proper, with that English accent and knight-like demeanor.  But this last time as he performed at both The Arcada and Des Plaines Theatres, something was a bit different, a bit more special.

When it comes to show business royalty, we roll out the red carpet.  I get a special gate pass at the airport and meet the celeb personally at their gate, welcoming them with open arms.

“Ange”! I said.  “Welcome back to Chicago!” He gave me that warm smile and a hug,

We went to dinner at Carmine’s in Rosemont.  For three hours it was story after story after story.  He talked about how much he loved the “Italian guys” in New York.  “I wasn’t Sinatra, but they would treat me like I was!”

We laughed when I reminded him of an incident that happened the last time he played the Arcada.  He had performed to a sold-out crowd, and we were just about to close down the theatre.  I had a beautiful hand-painted picture of Jimi Hendrix in the dressing room.  It was a big one, about three feet tall.

“I loved Jimi,” Engelbert said.  “There was a time in 1967 when we were on the same bill together with Cat Stevens.  One night, my guitar player didn’t show up, so Jimi volunteered to play in his band.  So he played just backstage behind a curtain, because he had just blown up.  After the show, I told t ne audience that Jimi was on guitar.  They thought I was joking! “

So I thanked him again, gave him a hug, and began to leave.  I turned for one last glance and he was leaving the dressing rooms…WITH THE PAINTING UNDER HIS ARM!

I said, “Ange!  What are you doing?”  He answered, “I didn’t think you would miss it!”

I actually let him have it.  It currently resides at the top of the stairway to hid bedroom.  How do you say no to a guy like that?

I asked him if at eighty-nine years he is at all tired.  “I love to entertain,” he said.  “It has kept me young.  That, and martial arts.  After all, I AM a black belt in Karate, you know!”

As a throwback to old Hollywood, Engelbert comes out for his encore in a red velvet bathrobe, still doing karate moves like someone a quarter of his age.

“Where did you get that name, by the way?” I asked.  “My manager at the time thought I should have something memorable, so he came up with the author of ‘Hansel and Gretel’ who was a nineteenth century composer by that name.  Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey were already big in America so it was a bit confusing.  It was a crazy time, so I said, sure,” Engelbert said. “Plus, Engel is another way to say Angel!”

He is a very spiritual guy; with a small altar he keeps atop his makeup table.  There is a beautiful cross, a small statue of the Virgin Mary, and a plastic bottle of holy water.  It says a lot about the man he is.

His favorite entertainer of all time was Elvis Presley.  “He was the absolute greatest,” he said.  “There was nobody like him.  He was spiritual and truly cared about people.  And there was no greater showman than he,” Engelbert said.  “I got my spirituality from him; but he stole his sideburns from me!”

For three days straight we hung out and I learned much about his kids, and his nine siblings, including a 101-year-old sister.  He would break to text or call his daughter.  He still loves working, with no end in sight.

“Hey, can you get me a tour of Italy? I have never sung there,” he asked.  I think they would love him out there!  Of course I said, “Sure!”

As I dropped him off at the airport, we said our goodbyes.  It really was like saying goodbye to a close member of the family.

He walked slowly with his assistant at his side, pulling the big suitcase that housed his tuxedo shirts and red velvet robe.  As he walked away, I couldn’t help but think about all the presidents and kings this guy has met over the years. 

Just before he got to the door, he stopped and very theatrically and slowly turned, looked at me, did a two-finger salute and winked at me.  All I could think about was the promise I made to have him sing for the Pope!  Man, I’ve  got some prayin’ to do!