TV Quote of the Day (‘Curb Your Enthusiasm,’ As Richard Lewis Tries in Vain To Dig Larry David Out of a Hole)

Richard Lewis [played by Richard Lewis]: “Dr. Grambs, this is my friend, Larry David.” [To Larry] “This is my dermatologist. Really? What, for 15 years already?”

Larry David [played by Larry David] [grinning]: “Even with the whole affirmative action thing?”

[Prolonged, awkward silence, then…]

Dr. Grambs [played by Gregg Daniel] [incredulously, glancing quizzically at Richard, then back to Larry]: “I'm sorry. I beg your pardon, what?”

Richard: “Yeah, what do you mean?”

Larry: “It was a joke.”

Dr. Grambs: “What do you mean, ‘The whole affirmative action thing?’”

Larry [protesting more insistently]: “No, no, no.”

Dr. Grambs [to Richard]” “Who is this guy?”

Richard: “It was a joke. He's like a buddy. I know him, he's a sweetheart.”

Dr. Grambs: “The implication being that I wasn't good enough to be a dermatologist?”

Richard: “No, come on, it was a joke. He's a liberal, he's like you and me.”

Dr. Grambs [to Larry]: “So, if I wasn't black, you would have said the same thing, or not?” [To Richard] “Do you see my point?”

Richard: “I see it in a historical sense, but not in a nice-day sense.”

Dr. Grambs: “You know, Richard, I've worked too hard and too long at this. I can't do it. I don't know what his trip is, but I can't do it. “

Larry: “I don't have any trip! No, it was a joke!”

[Dr. Grambs resumes jogging, waving them off.]

Richard [to Larry]: “Holy s--t! What hit you?”

Larry: “It was a joke.”

Richard: “I know it's a joke, but you sounded... Christ, like Pat Buchanan's gym partner.”

Larry: “I was just trying to be affable.”—Curb Your Enthusiasm, Season 1, Episode 9, “Affirmative Action,” original air date Dec. 10, 2000, teleplay by Larry David, directed by Bryan Gordon 

Quote of the Day (Richard Lewis, on Childhood Memories of Palisades Amusement Park)

“In Brooklyn, where I was born, they had Coney Island. But in Englewood, where I lived from before I was a year old, we didn’t need Coney Island, because we had Palisades Amusement Park. When I got to be about 10 years old, I would walk down the hill from my house and take the bus to Cliffside Park that would stop right in front of the amusement park. I must have done that hundreds of times in my childhood. The roller coaster was my favorite. That and the Wild Mouse. I would go on them over and over and over. It didn’t matter that I was nauseated for, like, 30 days. I was under the spell.”—Stand-up comedian and actor Richard Lewis (1947-2024), as told to Eric Levin, “Richard Lewis: Safe at Home,” New Jersey Monthly, Nov. 15, 2010

I have to tell you right now that over the years, despite his prominence as an entertainer (it’s not every one whose obituary runs on the front page of The New York Times), I had followed Richard Lewis only minimally.

Yes, I knew he was from Bergen County and had even graduated from public school in my hometown of Englewood, NJ. But I had never caught his act, in person or on TV, and only knew, in the most general way, about the neuroses that fed his art.

Then, several months ago, I read that he was suffering from Parkinson’s Disease. As my late mother had also been afflicted with this, I knew what he must be experiencing, and my heart went out to him.

Then, earlier this week—as much out of the need for laughs as curiosity—I rented from my local library Curb Your Enthusiasm, and was delighted to watch Lewis act as a foil to longtime friend Larry David.

Then came the news that he had passed away on Tuesday.  

Since then, I have been reading about his memories of growing up in Bergen County—not just the kind of idyllic memory of Palisades Amusement Park that fellow baby boomers have had, but also of seeing on his street Mickey Mantle (still in his Yankee days, and none too pleased about encountering a kid with a Brooklyn Dodgers shirt!), or coming back to his hometown for a stand-up appearance in 1989. 

(These and other rueful reminiscences can be found here.)

Lewis might have moved out to the West Coast years ago, but you couldn’t take the Jersey boy out of him. Maybe that was an indelible part of the guy who Anything But Love co-star Jamie Lee Curtis hailed as “a sweet and funny man.”

(The image accompanying this post was taken of Lewis on Sept. 26, 2013, by Joeyjojo86.)

TV Quote of the Day (‘Anything But Love,’ With Richard Lewis in Full Anxiety Mode)

[Hannah Miller, an aspiring writer, has exchanged seats with another airline passenger to sit next to Marty Gold, a reporter for a Chicago magazine—unaware that he has an intense fear of flying.]

Marty Gold [played by Richard Lewis]: “We’re right next to the engines. I can’t believe this! Where’s the safety card?” [starts looking on the floor]” Bags, gifts. Oh, yeah, here it is.” [opening it to read, then frantically grabs Hannah by the back of the neck, bringing her down to the floor with him.] “Head between knees!” [At last they come up, with him exhausted.] “Why?”

Hannah Miller [played by Jamie Lee Curtis] [smiling, attempting to get him through the flight]: “Look, what’s your favorite city? Come on!”

Marty: “Why, uh, I have two: Paris and Teaneck, New Jersey.”—Anything But Love, Season 1, Episode 1, “Fear of Flying,” original air date Mar. 7, 1989, teleplay by Wendy Kout and Dennis Koenig, directed by Michael Lessac

When I first came across this exchange on YouTube, it made me chuckle—and desire, someday, to try to see full episodes of the sitcom Anything But Love, which I was never able to catch during its four-season run on ABC more than three decades ago.

From what I have heard, the dialogue capitalizes on the anxiety that Richard Lewis has long made a part of his stand-up routine. But the last line especially made me smile: a tip of the hat to Lewis’s roots in Bergen County, New Jersey, also my longtime home.

But this week, I had a different feeling about Lewis, after the news broke that he will be retiring from stand-up because of four surgeries and a diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. Having watched my mother struggle for a decade with the latter medical condition, I can only feel sympathy for him as he deals with its debilitating impact.

Lewis revealed the diagnosis with the same candor that he related his past crisis with alcoholism. I’m sure he’ll face his coming battle an equal amount of grace and courage.

In the meantime, let’s all work for a day when we never have to watch a loved one be stricken by Parkinson’s—or receive the diagnosis ourselves. Anyone who wants to see that day can contribute to either the Parkinson’s Foundation or the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.