Do any of you REALLY remember Groucho Marx? Back in the ’50’s he was one of the funniest people on television – aside from Milton Berle. (“Remember, just tell ’em Groucho sent you – to see the new Desoto!”) My Mom was a fan, so of course we all watched him. Or at least my older Brother and Sister did. Mom decided that good old Groucho was a little too racy for my shy, little ears. Ah innocence – wherefore art thou? He finished his television career when I was a young teen and all I knew of him after that was an infrequent visit with Dick Cavatt or the stories that my Mother told, told and retold…..I always thought that SHE was funny. Come to find out, she was just replaying Groucho at the dinner table!
Then something VERY strange happened. In my early 20’s someone took me to a Marx Brothers Festival. Good Grief! Where had I been all my life? That night I giggled and laughed so hard my date thought I had epilepsy – or maybe just weak kidneys! Who knew? There he was, up there on the silver screen. Groucho! The man who had taught my Mother to “crack wise”. And in turn, that serving of silly, slap-dash sarcasm has been passed on to me. I can only hope that I used it well enough to pass on to my Son.
Don’t worry Groucho. When I get to Heaven, I’ll be sure to tell ’em Groucho sent me!