For the Very First Time

So, on Thursday night Drummer Boy and I saw Eric Idle and John Cleeese's two-man show. I intended to write about the experience on Friday, except that my mom was admitted to the hospital with arrythmia, and that kind of became my focus for the last 24 hours.

As it does.

Twenty-four hours and lots of anxiety later, Mom remains in the hospital but apparently is going to be fine. Don't let anyone tell you differently, it sucks when your parents get old. It's awesome when your parents live long enough to be old, but it still sucks when your parents get old.

Yeah. Anyway.

On Thursday, Drummer Boy and I had pretty great tickets to see "John Cleese & Eric Idle: Together Again at Last...for the Very First Time" at the beautiful Majestic Theater in downtown Dallas. Because I decided there was no way we were going to miss our absolutely probably last time to ever see two members of Monty Python performing live ever.

It cost a crap-ton of money, you guys.

And was totally worth it.

Totally. Although it still sucks when
your parents get old.

I love Monty Python. Together, as individuals, I adore them. You know that.

I don't know if I've ever stated here that ever since high school, I've had a huge crush on Eric Idle. I have. And at age 48, I finally had a chance to see my crush live, in person, on stage, in all his elderly English comic glory.

Dream come true. Fucking totally.

As I write this, Cleese & Idle are finishing up the final show of their tour in New Orleans. So if you didn't catch it, screw you forever, it's over.

Quote unquote.

It was a phenomenal show. It was...I don't know, epic, amazing, iconic? It was.

Let me attempt to sum it up in one moment.

In 1984, Monty Python's final film The Meaning of Life screened in Dallas. It was at either the Granada or the Inwood, I don't quite recall (Bestest Friend, who saw it with me, might remember the exact venue).

In any event, we were both in the first blush of Python fanaticism, having been introduced to MP within the last 1-2 years. The chance to see a Python film in its final art-theatre run was a pretty damn Big Deal.

It was genius, you guys.

I have to say that teenage me blushed at "Every Sperm Is Sacred," not to mention the sex education scene. I was young and Catholic, and I couldn't quite believe John Cleese was fucking Connie Booth in the middle of a boys' lesson onscreen.

Reagan was President, and sex was EVIL. Just saying.

This was AMERICA, however.

But then...Eric sang "The Universe Song." I adored it. I adored him. I committed every complex numerical lyric of that song to memory and can sing it to this day. And I adore Eric Idle: for Sir Robin in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, for mastermding "The Rutles," and above all for "The Universe Song."

Above all, you guys.

You have to understand that on Thursday night, Eric Idle sang "The Universe Song" to me.

TO ME.

I don't give a shit that there were 1,700 other people in attendance at the Majestic that night.

Eric Idle sang "The Universe Song" to ME.

I will never forget that. He stood onstage, and without even realizing I was there in Row N. Seat 6, he sang his most wondrous composition to me.

Thank you, Eric, thank you.

I'm sure that you'll go back to England and your life of comfort and leisure, and for the rest of your life you'll bask in the knowledge that your fans love and appreciate you.

And that's perfectly OK.

But this fan, here in Dallas - the one with her pathetic little blog who bought tickets for herself and her soulmate - well, we want to thank you and Mr. Cleese for visiting us and making us laugh.

All four of us might die happy that we shared those few hours together.

Life is quite absurd.

And I'm good with that.

THANK YOU, Mssers. Idle and Cleese.

Thanks.