Where have you gone, Donut Man?

I've had a few Easter traditions on the Funhouse TV show, for my “Easter blasphemy” episodes. One of the most bizarre (recommended many years ago by friend Bob Fingerman) is “The Donut Repair Club,” an ongoing series of cwazy Kwistian kiddie videos.

Funhouse viewers are well familiar with the concept behind these vids, but for those who are unaware: Rob Evans, “the Donut Man,” tells children that “life without Jesus/is like a donut/'cause there's a hole in the middle of your heart.” Thus, you must fill your donut... er, heart and put Jesus right in there. The “repair club” thus literally “fix” donuts by putting munchkins into the center of the holed pastries; metaphorically they fill kids' hearts by sticking Jesus in there.

A lot of Donut Man clips are now on YT, but years ago I uploaded an “introductory” bit from the very first Donut Repair Club video:

Evans' tapes came out on a regular basis in the Nineties, and a daily TV show was spawned out of the concept. I have wondered every so often when I revisit his tapes on the show: whatever happened to the Donut Dude? Thankfully, the Internet holds the answers to most trivia questions, and thus I am happy to learn that Rob Evans is still convincing children to fill their holes [insert highly inappropriate joke *here*], while he also has a day job as a home builder (presumably a contractor). 

This article gives Evans' back story and explores his attitude towards his music. It's fascinating to know that his journey toward finding Christ began when he was experiencing the “drugs and rock and roll scene of the '60s and '70s.” This is reflected by some of his songs – he has one that duplicates “Maxwell's Silver Hammer,” and another song seems incredibly reminiscent (read: the melody is identical) to Buzzy Linhart's “Friends.”

The interviewer declares Evans' Donut Man to be “an almost Christ-like figure” in comparison to other children's Xtian entertainers. For his part, Rob lets us know that the musicians he played with on his Donut Man recording sessions were noted session men in the mainstream music industry. A bassist who played with him has also worked with Barbra Streisand, Stevie Wonder, and Madonna. The producer for his Donut Man albums later produced a Star Trek soundtrack and the score for Pixar's Up. One of his drummers also worked with Phil Collins.

The Donut Man's biggest step was his conversion to Catholicism. He notes that he did it because he believes that communion “isn't symbolic,” it's really happening. (The cannibalistic, blood-drinking portion of Catholicism always fascinated me when I was back in Catholic school, realizing that there are those who want to “drink the blood” of their deity....)

Evans and his interviewer discuss whether Catholicism is Christian... or even Catholic. (That part puzzled me a little. As much as I escaped the church, fleeing for my sanity, I would readily admit that the Catholic church is indeed very Catholic – with an uppercase “C.”) Says Donut Man: “To the degree that the Catholic Church is idolatrous, it’s not Christian so it’s really not Catholic.”

On that interesting theological point the interview fades away, with Evans noting he does 80 to 100 gigs a year. I found his Facebook page, and yes indeed, the Donut Man does still tour his act and involve local children in loading up them holes. He also is a granddad (he and his wife have been married since he was 20 years old and he's now well over 60).

Perhaps the oddest note on his Facebook “Like” page is that one comment (posted a few weeks back, on March 9) comes from a white-power person (who claims to be a Japanese soldier who fought in WWII) who argues that Evans' act is “a plot by the Jews.” It's an interesting addition to the page, which otherwise is all about brotherhood, love of Christ, and Evans' performances and love of family. Perhaps the people running his page don't realize there is a “delete” command on FB?

In any case, the Donut Man is still with us, still preaching to the youngsters about filling their holes with Jesus. What more can one ask for from a gent who openly admits his character's “costume” was inspired by “Mr. Greenjeans” on Captain Kangaroo?

A few extra clips... The one black girl in the group does a rap number about Christ.

A country-fried tune about the prodigal son.

One of Evans' songs that will NEVER exit your cranium, a ditty urging the listener to “skip and sing and dance and shout Hallelujah, shout Hallelujah!”

The Donut Dude in drag, doing his “Maxwell's Silver Hammer” riff:

And one more bit of exposition, explaining the donut-repair metaphor. Fill those holes, chillun!

Religious metaphors don't come any blunter: The Donut Hole

Each year at Easter I celebrate the Paschal season by presenting Christian kitsch on the Funhouse. I’ve found that Christian entertainment (now known as “inspirational” entertainment, in order to not scare away new converts) ranges from the purely ridiculous to the insidiously offensive to tender-hearted treacle. The most memorable kind, though, involves music — and not church music or gospel music, but that oddly all-inclusive label (which defines the artist rather than their music) “Christian contemporary” and (you want hooks? You got ’em) Christian kiddie entertainment.

Thus, in the spirit of the season, I offer six clips from one of the most memorable Christian kiddie creations, The Donut Hole. The Donut Hole series is the brainchild of a gentleman named Rob Evans, who plays the lead role, the “Donut Man” who leads “the Donut Repair Club.” In this group of children and one adult man (think of the original Mousketeers, if Roy or Jimmy really ran the whole show), the assembled group “repairs” donuts by filling their holes with Dunkin’ Munchkins (never named as such, so copyright is leaned on but not violated). Evans reasoning for this odd little bit of really blatant metaphor and almost obscene symbolism? That your heart, without Jesus, has a hole in it. When Christ shows up, our hole is filled. I am not making this up, and the footage below bears me out.

In the process, Evans and his fellow “Donut” producers use bouncy, jumpy, hooky tunes to drive home their point that Christ is, um, er… a hole-filler. The songs cannot be forgotten and haunt me long after I eject the tapes (yes, I’ve only seen these suckers on VHS). Like many things I’ve been proud to present on the Funhouse, The Donut Hole must be seen to be believed. The first clip below sells the concept, the rest were uploaded to show how mind-warpingly catchy the tunes are (and how the Donut Repair kids strut their stuff before and after this odd donut ceremony).

My thanks go out to comic book creator and kitsch connoisseur Bob Fingerman for his recommending Evans’ original mind-warp to me more than a decade ago.

The introduction to the hole-filling concept:



The little black girl in the group leads a rap:



A country-themed “prodigal son” song that goes for a long, long time (at two minutes):



From a later tape: the gang sing and skip and dance and shout “Hallelujah!”:



The Donut Man in drag doing a very “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”-sounding song. I cut this one down, so you’re missing his Monty Python “pepperpot” impression (believe me, it takes a long while to get to…):



And yet another, pithier explanation of the fill-your-holes-for-Christ concept: