But since Republican primary voters don’t seem to be interested in moderate candidates, I suggested a phrase attributed to television pioneer Ernie Kovacs, “Nothing in moderation,” be the party campaign slogan.

God bless Al Gore for inventing the Internet. Otherwise, I’d never experience connections like the one that follows.

Over the summer, I wrote a column about how former New York Gov. George Pataki, in theory, should be the perfect Republican presidential candidate.

“He’s an experienced lawmaker and a seasoned campaigner,” I noted. “He’s solid on social and women’s issues. And he can be an outside-the-box consensus builder (among those on stage when he was sworn into office in January 1995: supporter Howard Stern).”

But since Republican primary voters don’t seem to be interested in moderate candidates, I suggested a phrase attributed to television pioneer Ernie Kovacs, “Nothing in moderation,” be the party campaign slogan.

And here’s where the Internet connection comes in. Who should I hear from but Josh Mills, who runs the estate of Kovacs and whose mother is the late Edie Adams, the performer who was married to Kovacs from 1954 until his death in a car accident in 1962.

Josh, overestimating my pull in the world of journalism, wanted to know how to convince New York City officials to erect a statue commemorating Kovacs, much like the one at the New York Port Authority depicting Jackie Gleason as bus driver Ralph Kramden.

It’s not a terrible idea. Kovacs was a ground-breaking innovator in 1950s television. He played with the medium in ways no one had before, and few have since. Cars fell through pavements; scuba divers popped out of women’s bathtubs; water gushed from a painting of Niagara Falls. Ernie and his ever-present cigar were often the only thread connecting the surreal and often silent bits.

Perhaps the most familiar running gag was the Nairobi Trio, three performers — Ernie, Edie and, at times, Jack Lemmon — dressed as trenchcoat-wearing gorillas, performing an instrumental called “Solfeggio.” I know; it doesn’t sound all that funny. Trust me; it is.

While he may not be as well known today as Gleason or Lucille Ball or the other comedic stars he shared 1950s television time with, Kovacs was far from obscure. He appeared in more than a dozen films, starred in roughly the same number of television series and specials, hosted “The Tonight Show” and was on the cover of Life magazine.

And as Josh Mills reminds us, he left a legacy that entertains fans to this day. A recent list of the 10 most popular items on Netflix finds  — amid nine offerings from the past few years — “The Ernie Kovacs Collection.”

So I’m all for a statue of Ernie. How to go about it? Well, the TV Land cable station proposed and paid for the Gleason statue to promote itself (and its then-airing of Gleason’s “The Honeymooners” series). So the first step may be to convince TV Land to broadcast the old Kovacs series (it would be a nice break from those “Everybody Loves Raymond” marathons). If you’re on board, leave a message for TV Land parent company Viacom at its website.

As none other than Jackie Gleason would say, “And away we go!”

And speaking of going away, I’ll be doing just that. This is my final column for Messenger Post (and GateHouse Media). Thanks to all of you for reading, and writing in, over the past 24 years. It has been a privilege to be in print (and online) for such a long run. I’ve appreciated you indulgence. I may beg it again someday.

Kevin Frisch is a former managing editor at Messenger Post Media (N.Y.).