LAST NIGHT AT THE SIGNING A LADY SAID TO ME: “YOU LOOK MORE LIKE YOU DO NOW THAN YOU DID THEN.” GOOD, ISN’T IT? I EVEN FEEL MORE LIKE I DO TODAY THAN I DID THEN. BEING AN EX-PYTHON IS WEIRD. I SUPPOSE we are all are mistaken for the people we once were, that’s what the fossilization of fame is all about, but we’re not really them, are we? Those young men are long since gone. We have to talk about them as though we still are them, but we’re not, you know. They were smart, young, and terribly clever. We older, wider, and grayer men are their descendants. I used to be Eric Idle in Monty Python. But now I’m not. I’m not even like him. He drank and smoked and ate meat. He was married to a blond Australian. I’m none of the above. But looking at his pictures now I see he was quite cute, and mercifully, he didn’t know it. He had a lot of insecurities which have since been ironed out by a jolly good shrink. I know the English disapprove of shrinkage, but then they still think smoking is a good idea…and look at their tabloids: they’re completely bonkers. I think that’s why certain interviews are so taxing for me: they only want to talk to him. And I’m not him, any more than Ringo is still Ringo. Sometimes I have to pretend to be him, and I can still do his material and sing his songs, but I’m clearly a totally different person.
People are always asking if there is going to be anything new from Monty Python—and the answer is no. We have discovered that the less we do, the more you pay.
After five nights on the road, a hot bath! Luxury. And now a day off. Last night in New Brunswick there was a great crowd and a wild reception. We had young people from Rutgers and neighboring high schools as well as the loyal ones who have been watching Python for thirty years. We had over a hundred walk-ins, which was excellent. I teased the audience with doing Eric the Half a Bee, and think I might well do that tomorrow for a change. No one gets Do What John. It is a very English thing.
Do what John?
Do what John?
Come again?
Do what?
Do what John?
Do what John?
Do what Do what Do what?
Do where John?
Do where John?
With what with whom and when?
Triffic really triffic
Pardon? Come again.
I have got into a rhythm now and am starting to drop weight. It’s all the singing and performing. I shall be a younger, slimmer old bastard by the time my good lady wife comes into New York. I vaguely remember her….