I was surprised by the paroxysm of grief that swept across the media this week with the death of Richard Lewis — it’s hard to think of somebody who was quite so beloved without ever exactly being an icon in their own right (and who was, essentially, in the shadow of someone else i.e. of Larry David).
The sensation (and this is one of the best things about culture) is of having some experience that you think is somehow specific to you — e.g. finding yourself for some reason really excited every time Lewis shows up on Curb — and then realizing that everybody else feels exactly the same way.
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