Billy drew a huge audience that night, a crowd of almost 27,000 (not like in the Fifties, but hey) – and let me tell you something: when the Rev. Billy Graham preached that evening at Earls Court, he laid out the Lord's plan of salvation with so much clarity, and he spoke with such deep spiritual conviction, and he communicated with such down-home North Carolina eloquence, that – well, I don't remember what, because I fell asleep.

I was aroused when that wonderful old organ swelled, as usual, to the strains of "Just as I am."

(I did not mean that how it sounded.... Allow me to try again:)

...I did not awake until the altar call, when the stadium organist began to play the Billy Graham theme song, "Just as I am, without one plea." But I felt truly sorry afterward because something lamentable happened while I was napping. That was the very night on which the legendary and very cute pop singer, Cliff Richard, believed, and got saved. I was totally gobsmacked. Good Lord, Cliff Richard was practically John Lennon's twin – they were born the same week, October 1940. Well, it just goes to prove: you win some, you lose some. (So much for horoscopes!)

I had no inkling Cliff was even in the audience that night until it was too late for me to save him from getting saved. Totally bummed me out! My pals Beelzebub and Belial had not yet forgiven me for letting Little Richard (no relation to Cliff Richard) slip through my fingers, in 1957. They'd tease the bejeezus out of me when they learned that I had just lost another one, stolen right out from under my nose. A hip-swinging spawn of Elvis, Cliff was a rockabilly star whose hits included "Schoolboy Crush" and "Living Doll." I thought I already had him in my back pocket for eternity. Obviously, not.

Rock stars have quite the reputation, but they can surprise you. I'll never forget 1978, when Bob Dylan got born again. Belial and Bubba were so upset they could not even talk about it! I thought it was just a publicity stunt. I made a bet with Belial – my signed 1965 glossy of Dylan at KQED San Francisco, against Belial's mint 1963 vinyl of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan – that Bob would chuck Christianity within three months.

Instead Jesus kept him hangin' on for three years, so I lost that wager.

Meanwhile, Beelzebub was so embarrassed by the loss of Bob Dylan to the cause of Christ that he put out a rumour, throughout the music industry, that the Dylan albums, Slow Train Coming (1979), Saved (1980), and Shot of Love (1981) were not really about past sins, recent conversion, and future salvation at all; but were rather about sexual dysfunction, welcome medication, and eventual, glorious release. (And there might even be some truth in that. One of the side effects that evangelists rarely tell you about, when you first accept Jesus Christ as your lord and saviour, is that personal salvation may interfere with your sexual performance. Believe me, I've seen it happen a million times.)

(Well, I mean, I have not "seen it," not with my own eyes, but I do know about the problem.)

When Dylan finally gave up on Christianity and returned to our side, Belial put on some Dylan records, and the three of us were cool again. But Belial still has my autographed KQED glossy, and I just know he ever won't give it back to me.

I seem to have gotten sidetracked. Where was I? Oh yes, I was with Cliff Richard, at the 1966 Billy Graham Crusade.

When Cliff walked forward to receive Christ that night, and met with a spiritual counselor, he begged for help: already, he had indulged in sexual intercourse twice, he said, and he had also drunk himself silly, three times.

"Oh my, that is a lot for one day!" gasped the young counselor, thrilled to be speaking with Cliff Richard but privately horrified by his sins and trying not to let it show. Evidently, a special case.

Cliff was introduced to Billy.

"No, no, not today," explained Cliff to Billy Graham. "In my whole entire life."

Even Billy Graham was a little surprised. Here was a young pop star, 26 years old, appearing on every published list of the ten sexiest men in Britain. Who would've thought he needed help? Clearly, he did need help –

Too late, Lucifer! Cliff was now in the Lord's hands, the poor devil. Why, I have known 26-year-old Tibetan monks who have scored more often than that.

Cliff promised the Lord, and he promised Billy, and he promised his fans, that he would never have ordinary two-person sex again. And he never did. He promised to give up drinking. He did that, too. To stop swinging his hips when dancing. Done. Not to dance at all when singing such possibly suggestive tunes as "Move It!" Done. No more trying to out-Elvis Elvis with such movie roles as Bongo Herbert the drum-thumping troubadour, or Don the dancing garage mechanic (Espresso Bongo [1959]; Summer Holiday [1960]). Done and done. I never saw a man so utterly transformed by the power of Christ, unless maybe, on the other end of the moral spectrum, Richard Milhouse Nixon, whom Billy Graham also saved.

– L.

P.S. to Beatles fans: Sir Cliff Richard is now pushing seventy while your idol and mine, John Lennon, is pushing daisies. Cliff is a knight of the realm. He is still singing for the Lord, and he is still looking pretty damned attractive, thanks to a unique combination of Botox and clean living. If Cliff ever changes his mind about getting married, I can think of a thousand middle-aged guys who would say yes in a second. So maybe you should think twice before you follow John Lennon's lifestyle. Maybe you should think about following Jesus, and Cliff Richard.

P.P.S. And I do know how you feel about Yoko Ono. All I can say about that is this: I'm sorry.

P.P.P.S. From Beelzebub: Why are these pictures alike?

Answer tomorrow!