an olde saying

To say my kids are Monty Python fans is an understatement of the highest degree. My sons grew up with the Flying Circus as television, then as re-runs then as cds and all subsequent forms of communication upon which these wonderful zany characters performed. It is a simple truth: my sons are so well versed in Monty Pythonism that when one of them launches a skit with a trigger line such as: “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,” they are off and running. Back and forth they egg each other on until the skit ends as the writers intended or my two boys ran out of memorized lines or steam whichever came first. I still giggle when I think of Gannets (those birds who wet their nests) and doctors standing in the middle of the river with green surgical hats on their heads, and the nudge-nudge-wink-wink routines. To this day we are treated to snatches of Monty Python sketches whenever we gather as extended family.

Somewhere in that mix of Python silliness, one of the characters wailed: my brain hurts! Now there’s a sentiment that as we Quakers say, speaks to my condition. I know that feeling! Sometimes my brain acts as though it apparently can’t be bothered to contribute even a modicum of insight or wisdom, when it won’t (or can’t) round up a funny memory or contribute a quote or allow even a snippet of one to rise to the surface, no matter how hard I concentrate. When my brain is acting like that it’s time to abandon any hope that I might contribute a witty remark or cogent insight to the conversation. In fact, when my brain hurts not even a “writer’s prompt” can jump start the creative juices.

So, it’s time to grab a good book, find a comfortable place to sit down and read somebody else’s insight or wisdom or funny memory or witty remark or just plain good old page-turner story.

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