Monty Python's
First Visit to America
by Michael Dare

I delivered
sandwiches and salads for Marsha's Sandwiches from 1970 to 1972 because
they gave me the coolest route, the Sunset Strip from Vine to Doheny. My
first day they gave me baskets of sandwiches and a list of businesses on
the strip that regularly bought from them, including hair salons, record
companies, production companies, and anyplace else I might care to check
out along the route, all the way from the Whiskey to the Cinerama Dome.
Thus I was
afforded the perfect excuse to burst into any establishment I pleased as
long as I had my wicker basket full of goodies. Burst I did, gathering
two other jobs in the process, getting fired from both, and ending up back
selling sandwiches.
My first
gig courtesy of Marsha's Sandwiches was receptionist for Cinemobile. It
lasted two weeks until the president of Cinemobile returned from Europe
and discovered to his horror that his new receptionist didn't have tits.
I was immediately canned and replaced by someone of a different gender,
and I went right back to delivering sandwiches.
Next was Casablanca
Records, the home of Cher, Donna Summer, The Four Tops, Parliament,
and The Village People. Neil Bogart, the president of Casablanca,
gave me a job because he clearly couldn't get rid of me without buying
a sandwich or hiring me. I wanted him to listen to my music. I wanted a
recording contract. I got the mail room, where it was my duty to send out
promo copies of records and to help promote this new comedy group from
England. Their hit show had never been shown in America, so they were total
nobodies. All they had were these comedy albums that were the funniest
I had ever heard. Casablanca had just bought the American rights and was
breaking Monty Python's Flying Circus to America. I watched it happen.
They were sold purely through word of mouth, and I sent hundreds of copies
of the LPs to everyone on earth we thought had a sense of humor. Everyone
liked them, though there was no airplay at all and little sales.
Just to test
the waters, in August of 1972 a compilation film of some of
Monty Python's
best TV bits was put together for the American market. It was called And
Now For Something Completely Different, and it had the Dead Parrot,
the Lumberjack, and the Upper Class Twit of the Year. Casablanca brought
the whole group over for their American press premiere, so they spent a
day hanging out at the office. There were no pictures of them on their
records so I didn't know what to expect. Bearded madmen, not neatly cropped
normal looking guys in business suits. Cleese,
Chapman,
Gilliam, Idle, Jones, and Palin
all in matching gray suits and ties, crammed in the mail room making fun
of me. They seemed totally stunned that ANYBODY in America got what they
were doing. I not only got them, I had them memorized. It WAS the right
room for an argument. I ran out of Monty Python albums for them to sign,
so I got them to sign albums of all the other Casablanca artists. They
signed my copy of Jack (The Artful Dodger) Wild's solo album but later
it was accidentally sold by a roommate under circumstances too painful
to discuss.

The first press screening
of And Now for Something Completely Different was introduced by
Graham Chapman, who apologized for all the obscure references in the film
while casually mentioning that then president Nixon couldn't attend the
screening because he was having an asshole transplant. Eric Idle ran down
the aisle and handed Chapman a piece of paper. Chapman then announced that
they had just gotten word from the hospital where Nixon was staying and
that "the asshole had rejected him." And the film began.
Months later I
was not so much fired as the whole company went under. Apparently
Monty
Python was no Village People. My quest for songwriting fame
bought me a day with the reigning geniuses of comedy, then I was back to
delivering sandwiches.
Me and Cleese at the Writer's Guild of
America
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