The Horse Talkerer

If Memory Swerves™, 'twas on this day in history — March 2, 1979 — that Mr. Ed died, which makes this a lousy damn day, indeed. A well-hooved American Palomino, Ed was the original horse of a different colour. His popular nighttime comedy "I Am Mr. Ed" aired from 1961 to 1966, and if there has been a finer television series to come out of the states since then, I am unaware of it. Ed was never nominated for an American Telly Award, and I can only hope that the judges who overlooked his thorspian talentry are burning in hell for it. There was no more capable actor — man, woman or horse — on television during that time. I don’t doubt that the great comedians of the 70’s — Benny Hill, Terry Thomas, Wayland Flowers — all went to school on Ed. He spoke fluent English, French and horse Latin, played table tennis and polo (on land and water). He could stitch with needle and thread, operate a ham radio and read the newspaper, the racing sheets and Rona Barrett's Horseplay™ magazine. Ed went to correspondence school and majored in animal science. He had a photographic memory and was capable of memorizing scripts on sight, and of naming all 51 U.S. states in alphabetical order, but only if you gave him a carrot. An accomplished ventriloquist and unicyclist, Ed operated the merry-go-round at carnivals. He was a jackass of all trades and master of fun, a practical joker, but an impractical businessman who received no television royalties — even though he voiced the famous slogan, “This has been a Filmways presentation, dahling" and wrote the bloody lyrics to the show’s jingle — brilliantly rhyming “of course” with “steady course.” Ed dated co-star Connie Hines, but it didn't last long, as the clingy actress wouldn't give the breakout star room to spread his horse wings, so he showed her the door (to the barn). He was a man after my own heart, if my heart had four legs. Happy Anni-hearse-ary™, Mr. Ed Wilbur. Long may you run. On basic cable, at odd hours.