Mafia? They’re a wonderful lot

IN 1977, at the sixth annual Las Vegas Awards Ceremony, his fellow performers voted my father Male Musical Star of the Year.

He was a performers’ performer and a public favourite, drawing huge crowds at Caesars Palace.

He couldn’t have been riding higher but he was ambivalent about it all. My father, pictured, needed the financial protection Vegas offered but knew he was a dancing marionette designed to draw the suckers to the slots and keep them there until the late show. He also knew he was on the payroll of mobsters, which scared the s*** out of him.

He was performing one night when he offhandedly remarked: ‘I’d like to thank the Mafia for the room hire…’ This didn’t go down too well with the boys upstairs. The following night, whitefaced with fear, he announced: ‘Last night I made a disparaging remark about the management. I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologise for my lack of judgment and good grace. They’re a wonderful bunch.’