When there was nothing on the 13-inch, eight-channel Zenith of my youth, we watched one of a few things (or played Hi-Ho Cherry-O). "Sound of Music" was one, "High Society" was in there somewhere, and Victor Borge was another -- another of a far-and-away more hysterical sort. I remember thinking as a small girl, "this old man and his piano are going to be soooooo boooooooring." The minute dad popped that gigantic VHS cassette in the VCR (which in later years took a sad hammer-wailing in the basement when dad got frustrated that the eject button refused to function) we sat stunned at Borge's facial expressions, hilarious accent and impeccable timing. Please enjoy just a few of the many moments of gut-wrenching, side-splitting laughter I have come to truly treasure.
