POLITICAL NOTES: The Concert

A four-piece hillbilly band strummed its way throughThe Last Thing I Want Is Your Pity, then swung nasally into something called I Wish I Knew How Much You Loved Me. Next the featured singer, Senator Glen Taylor, in good voice, harmonized with his family on Dear Hearts & Gentle People. “And believe me, folks,” Senator Taylor assured the audience, “we mean this from the bottom of our hearts.” Then his talented four-year-old son Gregory rendered It Ain’t Gonna Rain No More in Chinese.

Idaho’s Senator Taylor was up for renomination. The people of Idaho had heard his songs before. This time they were more interested in his political tune —and whether he had changed it since 1948. Glen wasn’t explicit on that point. By running for Vice President under the dark pink banner of Henry Wallace’s Progressive Party, he conceded that he had made a “poor political move”—but he was “not apologizing” for it, nor would he now criticize the U.S.S.R. because “I don’t want to say anything that might stir up another war.”

A Big Mistake. It wasn’t a very convincing performance, but Idaho Democrats didn’t have much to choose from. Glen’s principal rival was D. Worth Clark, whom Glen had unseated back in 1944. Clark, who plays no musical instrument whatever, had gone into law practice with Tommy (“The Cork”) Corcoran in Washington, D.C. after his defeat. He scarcely bothered to campaign, and when he did, botched it. On the eve of the election, he began a 15-minute broadcast, but after five fuzzy minutes, it was cut off without explanation. Even so, last week Clark defeated Glen Taylor, by a bare 1,142 votes.

A good many Republicans had crossed over into Democratic ranks to vote against Taylor. Republicans who stayed where they belonged had a spectacular candidate of their own: a hefty, hearty rancher and onetime Hollywood lawyer named Herman Welker. Out to “relieve Idaho of the embarrassment of Glen H. Taylor,” Welker aimed more oratory at him than at his opponents in his own Republican primary. Welker, a past master of the political cliche (“I wear no man’s yoke”), denounced Fair Deal “socialistic schemes,” even laid the Korean war on Harry Truman’s doorstep.

More Than Friendship. Welker was no man for singing, but he had a friend who was: Bing Crosby. Bing, a pheasant-hunting crony of Welker’s for 15 years, took time out from his Idaho vacation to sing the praises of Welker Republicanism. Crosby spread a Republican dinner for his pal, saying he hoped to “deduct it from my income tax, and make the Democrats pay for it.” Said Crosby:

“This is more than just a gesture of friendship. I would not be dismayed if it were taken as an indication of my political philosophy. Some of you may think an actor has no business in politics, but our situation is so serious even a ham actor can concern himself with it.”