A World of Nice Guys

Perry Como is so relaxed that he sometimes gives the impression of being made of sponge rubber with a core of Seconal. His eye is soft, his movements languid, his voice soothing. He views the world as being peopled exclusively by "nice guys." Once he applied that label to a famed middleweight boxer he had met. A friend pointed out that the pug had recently gone to jail for kicking his pregnant wife in the abdomen. Perry looked momentarily unhappy, then suggested: "Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity."

"A Real Nothing." Naturally, he is distressed that his high-rated Perry Como Show (Sat. 8 p.m., NBC) is clobbering its CBS rivals, Jackie Gleason's Stage Show and The Honeymooners. Gleason is not only a nice guy but a good friend of Perry's. In the latest Nielsen Top Ten, the Como show is No. 7 and Gleason is nowhere in sight. Says Perry: "I'd rather go on at 2 o'clock in the morning when there's no trouble. I don't want to fight anybody." On the air, Perry sings four or five songs, plays a skit or two with his guest stars, introduces a melange of dog acts, girl singers, acrobats. When a critic called him "Ed Sullivan with talent," Perry observed: "I hate people to say complimentary things and then pull someone else apart in the process. I like Sullivan; I watch him all the time." In his quiet, mannerly way. Perry Como, 43, is capable of considerable firmness. He fights a friendly war of nerves with brash Goodman Ace. his top writer. Explains Como: "When we started the show I was almost in baggy pants and a comedy hat, because Goody thinks I'm funny as hell.

But it was a real nothing. Now we're getting away from too many sketches.

Whenever I throw a line out of the script, it pops right back in again the next week.

For five weeks, Goody had a pet line he wanted me to say: 'There's no business like shoe business.' I kept throwing it out.

Finally, Gino [The $64,000 Question] Prato was on our show and he said it.

The audience died--it was funny as hell.

But if it had come from me--well, I'm no shoemaker."

"Real Nice." Perry was a barber some 20 years ago, back in Canonsburg, Pa.

where he was born Pierino Como, the seventh son of a seventh son. Just about every show he does, the writers come up with a great idea for a barbershop scene.

This week his guest star will be Kirk Douglas, who will be wearing the beard he grew for his recent movie based on the life of Vincent van Gogh. "Naturally," says Como, "they want me to shave him.

I told Kirk that if I do it, it won't be a gag. I'll really take the beard off. They're liable to send me back to the barber business if this keeps up." Como lives a relaxed home life at Sands Point, L.I., where, except for golf, his main preoccupation is his wife Roselle (they were married 23 years ago in Pennsylvania) and his three children (two of whom are adopted). Most evenings he lies on a green couch in his den, munching apples and pears and watching television.

His popularity as a singer is nearly as unassailable as that of Bing Crosby. Each Saturday night after the show, a loyal band of bobby-soxers gathers outside his studio. Says Perry: "A couple of these kids try to protect me from the others.

One night one of them warned the others to leave me alone because I was tired.

Then she said to me: 'I mean, you're not old, but you're tired after the show and all, aren't you?' I thought that was real nice of her."

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