Curb Your Enthusiasm

I first saw Richard Lewis perform in 1975 on the historic stage at the old Improvisation in the decidedly ungentrified Manhattan neighborhood known as Hell’s Kitchen. It was a Thanksgiving trip with my college buddies and my sister Marjorie, then a struggling teen comic in New York, got us a table. All these years later the memories of the music and sports events of that weekend have faded but not that night, a cultural experience equivalent to accidentally stumbling in the Cavern Club in 1962 and happening upon John, Paul and George.