Lawrence Welk came on tonight. Myron Floren came out and played his
accordion. "It's like he did a speedball backstage," said
Dr. Theresa. Myron Floren did really go to town on "Lady of
Spain." He played with a jittery electricity that seemed barely contained. I thought he was going to explode. "Machine-gunning it," was a phrase that came to mind. His lid is on real tight, though. I imagined him walking out of camera range at the conclusion and dashing his accordion into a thousand pieces. "That's how it's done!" he might snarl in an ecstatic rage. Then this woman came out and did a café number. "Who's this
sex bomb!" I shouted. (She was
Lawrence Welk's daughter-in-law.) She, like Myron Floren, had an energy that could be repressed only with some difficulty. "She's tickling all the men under their chins!" I yelled. I couldn't believe it! Throughout my viewing experience, and unrelated to the incidents previously outlined, I thought about how performing on the The Lawrence Welk Show must have been the spiritual equivalent of serving in
the Sun Ra Arkestra. My reasoning seemed sound at the time, I assure you.