A TV commentator said the other day that with all that was going on in the world today, President Obama had to “keep a lot of plates spinning.” Those of us who stayed home every Sunday night to watch Ed Sullivan knew exactly what he meant. But would anyone under 40 get it? What would plate spinning mean to today’s college freshman?

Ed Sullivan was the great divide between generations. If you watched Ed Sullivan to see the acrobats, the Borscht Belt comedians and the tiny little dogs jump through their trainer’s hoops, you’re from one generation. If you suffered through all that to see the rock band he had on that week, you’re from another. If you’re googling Ed Sullivan right now on your iPhone, well, never mind.

There was a time when, if you could imitate Ed’s pinched voice and self-hugging arms at parties, you could say almost anything and get a laugh as long as you said the words “Right here, on our stage tonight” first.

It was with those same words that Ed would introduce a band of Romanian acrobats who would come out in their circus tights logrolling atop multicolored, 2-foot-high hollow cylinders. They’d jump and tumble for 60 seconds to calliope music and then they’d jump off a spring board to make a human tower six people high while the bottom guy balanced the whole group as he stood, legs quivering, on two of the roly-poly cylinders. It must have taken years of practice to make something like that happen and a superhuman amount of effort. This was live television. Sometimes they couldn’t do it the first time, so they’d back up and do it again. You sat there thinking, “I couldn’t do that in a million years.” But you also thought, “There’s got to be an easier way to make a living.”