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Fisher And La Rosa Are Como Fans slugging to stay up there at the top. Como, however, is an affable fellow with a happy marriage, a wife of long standing, three healthy kids and no known enemies. He used to cut hair in a small mining town in Penn¬ sylvania, and still trots out his ton- sorial technique as a gag. He has a pleasant voice and an ingratiating way of underplaying himself—on TV screens and off. It’s a fact that Como doesn’t act much like one of the Nation’s most popular entertainers. Yet he recently signed a 12-year deal with NBC, involving an estimated $15,000,000, which next season will have him heading up an hour-long review against “Mr. Sat¬ urday Night” himself—Jackie Glea¬ son. His current Monday-Wednesday- Friday stint for CBS—a show so cas¬ ual Perry thinks he could “phone it in”—has a top rating among 15- minute musical programs. He makes a couple of records a year (“I don’t believe in throwing them out”) and they’re practically all hits. Before the NBC deal, he earned a million a year —give or take $100,000—and could have earned even more. “But,” he would ask, “what else could I buy?” Last summer, for instance, he turned down two ultra-lucrative weeks at one of the big gambling hotels. His reason: “I couldn’t be a shill.” He spurns mammoth benefits—then goes off to South Hackensack to raise funds for a stained-glass window. His explanation: “Food for the soul is important, too.” Como objects, however, to the idea that his workaday garb should in¬ clude sports jacket and halo. “I get as mad as the next guy,” he says, “but I don’t believe in sounding Como induces coma—well, breathless¬ ness, anyway—in his fan-club members.