Henry Gibson Died

The beloved wacky poet of "Rowan & Martin's Laugh In," the great Henry Gibson, died at the age of 73. He had cancer.

We do his little act every once in a while still to this day, if we have some simple poetic line come to us, giving the attribution, "By Henry Gibson" in his plaintive voice.

Everyone has to go, and I'm pretty accepting of death, but it's still tough to hear about someone from years ago passing on. All of our day will come!

UPDATE: I had a terrible sneezing incident happen while typing this post. Read the gory details at this link. For those coming here from there, the original last paragraph is the one starting with "Everyone has to go," meaning the next to the last one is the one starting with "We do his little act." I sneezed Tabasco sauce through my nasal passages. That was crazy. I was thinking all kinds of things, including my many declarations that I will not question God when bad things happen to me. And in this case, true to my word, I didn't. There I was, mourning Henry Gibson's death, and while doing so, could've died myself from choking on Tabasco. Or losing my ability to breathe, except fire.