Love is like π.|Natural, irrational, and very important.

Earlier this afternoon, I was standing in my shower, laughing so hard I was crying. Not because there was someone there telling me amusing anecdotes, or because I was reading (yes, in the shower, I like books that much). That would be too SANE. No, I was in hysterics because I was thinking about one of my true, true loves…

Monty Python.

Now I will watch any sort of Britcom. Are You Being Served?, Fawlty Towers, AbFab, Mr. Bean, even Keeping Up Appearances. I love the slapstick elements, and I even mostly get the references and topical jokes. And if I don’t, rest assured I will figure them out by the next time the same show makes the exact same joke. And I will watch said show (or skit, as the case may be) over and over and over again. In a row. I will cackle like a hyena and poke the person sitting next to me to let them know when to laugh (because most people are half-asleep or surreptitiously checking email because they do not possess the refined palate that I do).

Except if it’s Monty Python. Cause then all bets are off. God help the person I con into watching MP with me. Not only do I say the lines along with the teevee, I have been known to “act” things out. Like doing Silly Walks all over the house while fighting to stay upright because I am laughing that hard. And not just the Parrot sketch or the Holy Grail. I know nearly everything they have done, including stuff that was just on the radio. And my obsession started early. Picture this, if you will…

It is a fine spring evening in Ellicott City, Maryland. People have come from near and far to be here, to witness what is to come. There is a sizzle of excitement in the air, an expectant chattering fills the dark hall. This, my friends, is the 7th and 8th Grade Talent Show. There is singing, and dancing, and even some magic graces the stage. But no one knew what treat lay in store, what glorious display they would be privileged to witness. Oh, they would talk for years to come!

Suddenly, the curtain goes up. Two 7th grade girls are standing on the stage, dressed in what looks like their fathers’ old clothes. Are they hobos? Is this some strange interpretive dance number? Oh! They begin speaking! In a bad British accent. About books. Wait, what the f is going on here? Are they trying not to laugh? What is funny? Oh, they are…angry at each other? Now they are just standing there. Oh, thank god, I think it’s over.

*crickets chirping*

Finally, mercifully, someone began to clap.

Hey, we thought everyone liked obscure Monty Python. To this day, I can still remember being on that stage trying to a) talk like a man, b) talk with a British accent, and c) not laugh my ass off. Glorious.