In 1983 five of us, my brother, our wives and my aunt, went to the theater to see Monty Python’s “The Meaning of Life,” in my opinion one of the greatest cinematic achievements of all time, although I realize there are differing opinions on this film. I believe this anecdote serves as an example of a universal truth when it comes to comedy.
The classic scene when Mr. Creosote enters the fine dining establishment. As he is being seated the headwaiter calls for Gaston to bring a bucket so the honored patron, a gigantically obese man, may throw up. The ensuing scene alternating between ordering, eating and violent vomiting elicited two separate reactions from our group. The three women wanted to go to the theater manager and demand their money back while my brother and I were laughing so hard we had trouble breathing and maintaining an upright position in our seats.
Although the control group of this experiment only included three women, I believe this alone proves my theory. Women have no sense of humor. If that’s not enough proof for you, get this. Linda also does not think The Three Stooges are funny. And, I hate to admit this in public, does not like Marx Brothers movies.
Oh well, she tells me I’m funny and that’s kept us going for 50 years, so all is good!