Laurel and Hardy were a terrific comedy duo...not quite the equal of Abbott and Costello, of course, but still hugely entertaining.
For my simple tastes, both teams were a bit too...I don't know...sophisticated? Genteel, perhaps? Certainly, they made me laugh when I, as a youngster, watched them...but it was polite, civilized, restrained laughter.
I didn't want polite humour; I needed more. I needed the kind of laughter that made me dizzy because there was no time for inhaling. I needed to feel the tears streaming down my face, my voice growing hoarse with gales of mirth. The dog would whine in concern, try to figure out what was wrong with me, and finally leave in haste to fetch my mother. I needed the ultimate slapstick, where no amount of watching and re-watching the same corny episodes would diminish my enjoyment; where I would rush home from school to watch that magical half-hour of TV, usually along with my father and brother. I needed to know every line of dialogue, and still roar with laughter each time I heard it.
I needed...The Three Stooges!