Our bank holiday viewing has included a documentary on the Marx Brothers. A chance for me to bring up my embarrassing morning assembly reading in my late teens.
Us sixth formers took it in turns to read something that meant something to us. One boy read a Bruce Springsteen lyric which only I recognised and which was about as punk as it got at our school. I decided to be a bit subversive.
"The following is a quote from Marx..." I said, pausing. "...Harpo Marx."
Of course they may have laughed if instead of reading out an actual quote from Harpo Marx, I had produced a horn from behind my back and honked my way through the ordeal. The headmaster would have grappled with me for the horn and teachers would have thrown off their leather elbowed tweed jackets and wrestled me to the ground.
Instead, I read out the quote to a cavernous silence.
Harpo. Not even Groucho.
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