And, no, I’m not talking about the overhyped singer from Memphis that has become Christ-like after his passing (sorry, Mom).
I mean of course, the one, the only, GROUCHO!
Groucho Marx died on August 19th 1977. He was, in his prime, one of the sharpest wits on the planet, and if any human being knew how to be (and what was) funny, it was Groucho. Heck, my cynicism and wit has a direct mapping to the man I watched on television in my youth (other kids played outside, I watched Star Trek, Abbott and Costello and lots of Marx Brothers films – I know, you’re shocked).
My Interweb pal Mark Evanier has a great column on Der Groucho here. And here, in fond memory, is Lydia. Ah, Lydia…
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