Crooners are something like goldenrod: a new crop springs up every year. Last week, as usual, the woods were full of hopefuls.
On the networks, half a dozen male voices were making a lot of noise—and considerable money (next year they will take in close to $1,000,000). All six of these crooners had one or more things in common: rumply hair, wistful smiles and the languid air that makes some bobby-soxers want to squeal. As a group they were not necessarily the most promising singers.* But they were fairly typical of scores of eager...
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