Bring Back the Silliness!

The hottest part of summer has arrived.  This is the time of year I usually feel the most lethargic and uninspired.  The haze and the humidity just make everything seem heavy and tiresome.  Hours spent in climate control make me soft to the great outdoors.  I wilt the moment I step outside.  The glass door is fogged over by 7:30 a.m. and we hurry the dog through her visits to the yard.  What better time to settle in for an afternoon movie?  Something timeless and romantic.  Like, The Marx Brothers!

Groucho has to be one of the greatest romantic heroes.  Who can resist that greasepaint moustache and those waggling eyebrows?  Not to mention the cigar.  Silliness aside (well, that's impossible as long as we're talking about the Marx Brothers), I do love the films.  And, formulaic though they may be, there are certain aspects I always look forward to and others I always laugh at - and heartily, just like the first time.  I love to watch Chico play the piano.  Harpo's harp playing is enchanting.  I can't help myself when Harpo tries to explain through whistling and gestures to Chico that Groucho is being duped by a woman (though, Natalie could do without that - we've discovered she runs from the television whenever there's a screaming monkey and whenever Harpo does his thing).  But, then, there's the inevitable wooing of Margaret Dumont.  Whatever characters they play, the wooing is always the same.  

Where has all the wooing gone?  Swallowed up in sophistication and sobriety.  Where's the silliness?  I mean, after all, what in life can't benefit from a little silliness?  It's terribly romantic.  Think how great you feel when you laugh.  

So, there's my prescription for the summer blahs:  see Dr. Hackenbush for a healthy dose of absurdity and kiss me in the morning!