There’s no question in my mind that my father’s love of goofy humor lives on in me (and my son). He would drag me to the radio to listen to The Goon Show and any other zany British comedians and to see the Marx Brothers whenever the opportunity arose. When we lived near NYC this meant being able to go into the city and watch them in a real theater, including one glorious triple bill.
My childhood was often punctuated by his LP of collected songs by Spike Jones and the City Slickers until I could (and probably still can) spout the lyrics and sound effects of every song. When we were living in Oregon in the late 50s, he took me to see them. At a boat show.