Richard Lewis was the king of comic kvetching and self-deprecating humor

My stomach dropped and I audibly gasped when I read that Richard Lewis died at 76 after suffering a heart attack.

That just wasn’t supposed to happen, not now, even for someone like Richard, who was in ill health for several years — but at least it was peaceful, according to his publicist, Jeff Abraham of Jonas Public Relations.

Richard “passed away peacefully at his home in Los Angeles last night [Tuesday] after suffering a heart attack,” Abraham said in a statement to The Post. “His wife, Joyce Lapinsky, thanks everyone for all the love, friendship and support and asks for privacy at this time.”

I had such a nice interaction with the “Curb Your Enthusiasm” legend several years back when I was researching my biography of Don Rickles, with whom Richard co-starred on the short-lived Fox sitcom “Daddy Dearest” in 1993.

Richard, who was in a world of pain, agreed to be interviewed for the book (Jeff Abraham set it up) and he put aside his discomfort after a particularly rough surgery — one of three he was to have — to spend what turned out to be over an hour on the phone with me, peppering his recollections of working with Rickles with his patented complaining about his condition which, in this instance, wasn’t part of his shtick. He was hurting, but he was Richard — a real pro. I liked him instantly.

I was impressed when he kept asking me, “What else do you want to know?” or “What else can I tell you?” as he delved into the history of “Daddy Dearest” and his memories of Rickles with relish, aplomb and humor, remembering details from the beginning of the show that helped put it all in perspective.

So when I heard that Richard died — he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease last spring, and retired from stand-up comedy — I felt more than a twinge of sadness, not just for me, but for the world in general and, particularly, for the world of nuanced, self-deprecating comedy.

Richard was a true original and, while his comedy was often dark, it was also realistically hilarious as he poked fun at his own foibles and neuroses (he even dressed in black!) and never turned that on anyone else.

Richard, of course, was a regular on pal Larry David’s HBO series “Curb Your Enthusiasm” playing a thinly veiled version of himself — what a pair they made! — from the very beginning, and he continued to appear on the series in its 12th and final season, his medical condition and pain be damned. He was obviously frail, but he was a trouper — and nothing could keep him away from the improvisational brilliance of “Curb,” which fit his comic persona like a snug glove.

Television loved Richard; besides “Daddy Dearest” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” he co-starred with Jamie Lee Curtis on the ABC romantic dramedy “Anything but Love” (1989 to 1992). He was also an early (and semi-regular) guest on “Late Night With David Letterman” and continued to appear with Letterman when he moved to CBS with “The Late Show.”

Follow the latest from The Post on comedian Richard Lewis’ passing:

• ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ star and comedy legend Richard Lewis dead at 76

• Richard Lewis was the king of comic kvetching and self-deprecating humor

• Richard Lewis honored by ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ cast, Jamie Lee Curtis and more after his death

• The Knicks were a ‘monumental part’ of Richard Lewis’ life

Letterman, himself a stand-up comic by trade, was hip to Richard’s humor — as was the rest of America once he was unleashed on the masses. He also appeared on “The Tonight Show” and starred in a bunch of HBO one-man specials aptly titled “I’m Exhausted,” “I’m Doomed” and “Richard Lewis: The Magical Misery Tour.”

Mel Brooks, too, was a fan, casting Richard in his 1993 movie “Robin Hood: Men in Tights.” Who needs any more validation than that?

When I think of Richard, I think of him in his stand-up persona, running his hands through his thick head of hair while commenting on his personal demons which, somehow, he spun into comedic gold.

Never was one’s brutal introspection as funny as it was when painted with such masterly emotionally resonant strokes tinged, of course, with an acerbic veneer. We wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Richard leaves behind a legacy of smiles from a public who delighted in his self-deprecation and his lightning-quick comic mind.

As David would say in “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” Richard was “pretty, pretty good” as a person — and even better as a standard-bearer comic kvetcher who will live on in our hearts and minds.