the fast talking MC appeared before a trendy looking band in short jacketed, thin lapelled sharkskin suits moving in choreographed steps to rhythms undulating from their instruments. The MC stalked the stage and boisterously hawked the name of Jackie Wilson a hundred times and more. "Are you READY? For JACKIE, Jackie WILSON!" A hundred times. The band vamped. The stage lights were lurid; the audience became more and more edgy ... then, Jackie Wilson entered stage right wielding a hand held microphone. The smooth, milk chocolate skinned star was also dressed in a svelte, short jacketed sharkskin suit razor lapels and sporting chisel pointed shoes. He belted out "There's no pity on the Naked City" in the high pitched tones that drove the audience completely crazy. Suddenly everyone was standing in their seats clapping and swaying in a heightened emotional frenzy that held them totally wired until the last note was struck. Jackie Wilson got down on one knee. He threw off his jacket, and ripped open the front of his shirt. Every woman in the house was crying, tears streaming down their faces. Time stood still.