Oberon's Gift

by Richard Dante

  “You have sold him...you bastard! Ohhhhhhhh!” he grabbed for this stomach and his secretary rushed in with a glass of water and a pill which Printess gulped as the water from the glass splashed down his thousand dollar Pierre Cardin suit.

  “JOHN? John, you still there? came the voice from Los Angeles.

  The executive groaned, “Yes, but not for long.”

  “ I sold Potter for on special on ABC. That’s all. CBS called, but as usual can’t get their shit together with any kind of a deal. What are you offering?’

  “You know how conservative the top brass are here. I could only scrape up six programs to the us started. 1984 Summer replacement.

  “How much in the buckola department?” demanded the voice on the other end.

  “Money...money...money. Is that all you can think of?”

  “Right...right. How Much?

  “The turds upstairs would only kick in one millions dollars for this experiment. I had to convince them the kid was worth every nickel.”

  There was a barely audible gasp from the other end as Connor tried to keep his cool. There was a short pause before he replied.

  “I’d call that damned imaginative wheeling and dealing!”

  “Look, Paul,” Continued John Printess. “You and I know you’ve got the hottest property of the decade...possibly the century. IF the guys upstairs had any sense at all, I could have got them to commit to a ten year contract, at least. That would have been imaginative. But, imagination is one thing they lack. That’s why they hired me, and that’s why I have to hire George Potter.

  “I just want to make sure when this contract expires, I get first crack at the next one. I know the price will go up. Just hope you don’t get too greedy. At least put NBC in position for first negotiations.”

  The executive could tell his young star making friend was more than satisfied with the deal.

  “You can count on it, John. I speak for George Potter when I say we appreciate your confidence in his talent.”

  “Just try to get your butts to New York next week so we can get the ball rolling. June is just around the corner” added the NBC executive. The pain in his abdomen was already beginning to subside and he gave a sigh of relief. He wished there was some way he could retain his cool and not flip his wiggeeo every time a crisis like this came up. The voice on the other end of the line was saying.

  “we’ll be in your town next week to see Guiness of ABC. Now how about a lunch meeting to kick things off?”

  “How about a reception for Potter with the brass? They might be more willing to fork over the money if they could see their new star in person>”

  “Okay then...Tuesday at five P.M. your time. See ya!”

  Paul hung up and his businessman’s face turned to a little boys, similar to the child star still seen on TV’s late show. Grinning broadly, he leaped and capered around the room.

  The handsome couple on the leather couch laughed to see this contrast in personality which made their friend so much fun too be with. In fact, to live with. They were staying with Connor until they could rent a suitable place of their own.

  “You’re in George,” laughed Connor. “They are all fighting for you. CBS will be next. Last and too late as usual. But wait until contract time. You can bet we can name any figure we want.”

  George and Lydia watched the agent finally come to rest on the arm of the chair opposite them. They were new and green to all this show biz business, they hardly knew what he was talking about. They already had plenty of money so couldn’t get overly excited about making more

  ****

  They entered the large NBC reception room to the friendly accompaniment of clinking champagne glasses. Paul Connor stepped back and took Lydia’s hand, allowing George to Precede them into the room. The singer wore a white vested suit with a white on white shirt and tie. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone turned to stare. there was a wave of murmured approval from the executive wives, and though the urbane New Yorkers tried to hide it under a veneer of indifference, their eyes betrayed the obvious excitement the young man’s presence brought into the room. John Printess hurried forward to receive his quests.

  “George Potter--this is an honor, Sir! Congratulations on your instant success.”

  George beamed and blushed slightly which brought another murmur from the matrons in the room. This George Potter was really lovable.

  Printess led the Potters around the room and introduced them to NBCs top brass. Connor trailed behind. He already knew most of them, from the chairman of the board down to a vast assortment of vice presidents, wives and husbands. All came under the charm and charisma of his new protégé. Finally Printess led them near a small platform where a guitar leaned against a stool. George needed no more than this suggestion. He took up the guitar, checked if for tune and sat down on the stool. To the accompaniment of soft guitar chords, he made a simple speech, thanking them for their confidence in him and for this warm reception. Then he began to sing. The crowd moved closer, though George’s voice had great carrying power, even when he sang pianissimo.

  He finished the song and there was not a sound. Not so much as champagne glass tinkle or chink of ice. This strange phenomenon of silence was to follow every song he would ever sing in public. His listeners were literally entranced. It was almost like hypnotic therapy--this mystical, magical euphoria that bathed every soul when he sang. Then the moment would pass and the applause would come. Slowly at first, then it would build to a crescendo of adoration. It always embarrassed George a little, this power he had over people. Yet it was an integral part of him, like the fingers that played his magic melodies.

  SEVENTEEN

  The ABC Special became broadcast history, and when George move on to NBC, the network welcomed him with open arms. The new weekly TV hour was an immediate success. NBC’s Friday night ratings soared as more and more people tuned in and turned on to George Potter. As his popularity increased, critics, sociologists, psychologists and philosophers made great attempts to air their opinions of the new phenomenon. They could rhapsodize, fantasize and try to analyze, but few could criticize the new show biz wonder. He was beyond description. Beyond the fallibility of mere words. They were sure he must be only human, yet he seemed to loom larger than life.

  Was he another Elvis? That comparison seemed weak and lacked credibility. Elvis’ image had been mostly sensual--a mere sex symbol. George Potter was more than that. True, woman of all ages adored him to distraction, but nearly every man and boy also admired him for his homely wisdom and the optimism he projected in his songs.

  The religious hesitated to call h im, Messiah, though there was a quality in the message of his songs, speech and behavior that made them wonder.

  Poets compared him to Sandburg, yet that description lacked strength, since the weight of Potter’s word-images were more profound than any poet in memory.

  Most of the public saw it immediately. The simple truth was. George Potter was Love!

  That was what he preached, but in such a way his message became an epidemic that spread through every heart and mind that heard him.

  His music? That was easier for the critics to put a finger on.

  The millions of music fans,realized he had brought with him a revolution in music, just as Elvis and the Beatles had done before him. He combined the best qualities of folk, soul, rock, disco, country and classical and fused it into a new style for his generation.

  Some tried to describe his voice. Perhaps the most concise analysis was written on the cover notes on the back of his first album: George Potter’s voice has that natural quality everyone can relate to, but it has a great difference that sets it apart from any voice before him. His wide range gives his singing extraordinary flexibility He can spin husky whispered high notes in triple pianissimo or his voice can cut like surgical steel. His lower register may thunder like brass or caress like wo
odwinds. It is a unique instrument belonging to only one unique person--George Potter!

  It was an amazing yet human voice, but it was only a vehicle for his thoughts and ideas. the means with which he could project his philosophy to the world; the poetry that could caress the soul or persuade the listener that all was not as hopeless as it seemed.

  People clung to his ideas. This was a generation that was immersed in a gloom of pessimism that had been touched by the dehumanizing plague of automation and affluence. They had lost the ability or desire to create.

  Another thing that set George apart was that people listened when he sang. The idols of the past had always been drowned out by the clamor and hysteria of the crowds who adored them. At a George Potter concert, the crowd might go wild in anticipation; might wax hysterical when he made his entrance, go into ecstatic glee when he finished a song or even clap to keep time when it was appropriate. But mostly, they listened.

  The power of his personality flowed out into the waiting audience, and over and around them. They reached out and took him and devoured his delicious dreams with their minds and hearts. Within them, his visions created a soothing balm of peace and tranquility, a glimpse of a better world there within their grasp. Thesongs might be a joyous celebration of love and happiness that lifted them up and carried them, or he might sing of beauty and hope. Whatever the song, whatever the dreams and wonders they saw in his mind; they listened, they responded, they worshipped.

  TIME MAGAZINE--June 29, 1985. Just what is a George Potter? an interview with James Arden.

  The new show biz phenomenon, George Potter is currently the brightest burning meteor in our galaxy of stars. So bright does he blaze that he has eclipsed even the memory of the legendary Elvis. There is a big difference between our new idol and the late swivel-hipped singer. By some miracle, he has in the short year of his success, lifted the low spirits of this country and nearly every English speaking being within range of our satellites, to a new height of optimism.

  Critics are unanimous in their praise of his talent. The big controversy being--How does he do it?!

  No one knows for sure, but most people feel very strongly about George Potter. we interviewed hundreds of George Potter fans from every walk of live, and here is the general consensus of opinion.

  Q. What happens to you when you hear George Potter?

  A. George Potter is the best prescription a doctor can give. Makes me feel wonderful. Like a new person.

  Q. Who is George Potter.

  A. He’s the greatest guy in the world!

  Q. What do you think of George Potter?

  A. Love ‘im...love ‘im!

  Later we interviewed the star himself, along with his lovely wife Lydia in their home

  In Marin County.

  Q. George, it’s been said that your greatest gift is communication with your public. How do you do it?

  A. Jim, that’s a question I can’t really answer. I don’t understand it myself. All I know is that just before I start to sing or speak, I get this big delicious pain in my chest. It’s like my heart is going to burst. It scared hell out of me at first (Laughs) I thought I was having a heart attack. But when I start to sing, the feeling is fantastic. Like flying. It just seems to pour out of me. It know it sound weird, but the great feeling I have must somehow transmit itself to the folks who are listening. It’s a strange and wonderful emotion. At least to me it is.

  Q. What do you think it is, Mrs. Potter?

  A. I think it must be Love. George is a very loving man, but the love he gives his publish has got to be the greatest love in the world. It takes a lot out of him. After a performance he sometimes sleeps for twelve hours.

  Q. How do you write your songs, George?

  A. Well, you know, I was a political science major in college. I try to keep up with everything that’s going on the the world. Unfortunately, these days nearly all the news is bad.

  It depresses me and I know what it must be doing to the morale of the public. I try to take the negatives of the news reporters and turn it around to show the positive side.

  Q. How do you do that?

  A It’s like Lydia said. I guess it’s love I project into my songs. I try to convince my audience to love themselves, their family and their fellow beings. It works for me...I just hope I can make it work a little for the people who tune in.

  And that’s George Potter. I’ll admit I was already a fan, but I expected to meet a cold, impersonal star. I found George potter to be warm, humble, intelligent and dedicated to the course he’s made for himself. The big job of making people happy. I guess I caught the epidemic, too. The epidemic of Love...called--George Potter!

  - 30 -

  As the weeks of Summer wore away, more and more people discovered George potter. NBC’s Friday night summer replacement drew the largest audience in history, according to Neilson and ARB. The fact was, the other stations might just as well have shut down during the Potter show. No one was watching them.

  Competing networks suffered a big turnover in top brass that Summer. Buck-passing became the order of the day as vice-president blamed vice-president for the failure to sign up the new superstar.

  They couldn't wait until NBC’s limited contract ran out so they could get a crack at America’s newest obsession.

  Via satellite, most of the English speaking world was watching, too, as week after week George Potter dazzled them with his personality, wisdom, and talent. It wasn’t just his singing that drew them, though that was extraordinary. The thing that pulled them to the tube each Friday at eight, was what he said in his songs and the way he could project his ideas and emotions to his viewers.

  Many couldn’t decide which they liked best. The portion of the program where George sang to them, or toward the end of the show when the singing was over. Then he’d put down his guitar or banjo, sit on the edge of the stage and just talk to them. His philosophy was an extension of his poetry. He could put into words what most people just thought about. He would speak on different subjects each week. Sometimes it might be love, or against prejudice and bigotry. Or he’d speak to the children, perhaps to encourage them to do better in school and to honor their parents.

  Sometimes he spoke of the government. He never criticized, but only suggested. He had the rare ability to cut through the smokescreen of bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo surrounding an issue and get the the heart of the matter. Often he would weigh both sides of an argument and show the best way to a logical conclusion. He gave his talks with uncanny clarity so every age group and mental ability could grasp what he said, and always with a light sense of humor that gave them an avenue of hope.

  ****

  At the end of that summer, the major networks fought like cats and dogs to get Potter. NBC won again with the largest single TV contract every drafted. George went on with the same format--singing and talking to the people.

  He continued to analyze and suggest. His ideas rang true in the hearts of the great majority. He was becoming the nations conscience and its morale officer. In some quarters of government, they feared the benevolent power of persuasion he had over his audience.

  The people listened to George Potter; quoted him, and some even acted on what he said. Amazing as it may seem, a few of his rather radical ideas were put to use. Sometimes people pressured the government to carry out his suggestions, or often some politician, hoping to curry favor with his constituents, would put a bill before Congress, based on one of Potter’s suggestions. A few of them even became law.

  Although he may have seemed young to the older generation. there was no credibility gap.

  He appeared to be the only clear thinker they had.

  EIGHTEEN

  George stood holding his guitar and bowing to the enthusiastic crowd. Most of the White House audience, led by the President, appreciated George Potter’s talent. There were a few who disagreed with the philosophy of his songs, but
applauded the young man who beamed at them from the platform.

  “Let’s give George a break, folks” announced the President, over the fading applause. ‘One more request and we may wear out our welcome. Perhaps he’ll sing a few more songs later.” These words brought on another wave of approval.

  The East Room was packed the the warm bodies exuded the mixed fragrances of expensive perfume and after-shave. George wiped his brow and leaned his guitar next to his banjo. Then he stepped off the platform to his waiting fans. Many came to shake his hand. He was growing used to the adulation, but from the nation’s leaders, it seemed almost as overpowering as his first concert. He could see Lydia talking to the President’s wife, Mrs. Duffy. They both looked his way and smiled. The First Lady nodded her appreciation and Lydia blew him a kiss. George felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the President smiling at him,

  “Just great as always, George!”, beamed Warner Duff y They’d met for the first time just before dinner, but like most everyone else in the country, the President felt he knew George Potter on a first name basis. “George, could I speak to your privately for a few moments?”

  asked the President.

  “Of course, Mr. President.” answered the singer.

  The President led the way out of the crowded room, through a throng of doting fans who called out to George as they passed. The Chief Executive took his guest down the long hall to the Oval Office. The President opened the door, switched on the lights and stood back to let George enter first. George Potter saw the legendary room for the first time.

  Warner Duffy motioned George to a couch and went to a bar hidden near his desk. He poured himself a drink and turned to George.

  “Coke?” he asked, knowing George seldom drank.

  “Perfect returned to the young man on the couch and handed him a glass. The President continued to stand as he sipped his own drink. He looked down at George for a few moments before he spoke.

  “George,” he said finally. “You’re a student of the political scene.” He hesitated , then looked the singer straight in the eye and asked. “Tell me George. How am I doin’...as President, that is? The truth now.”