Intermission: Monty Nolahn and the Holy Grail

 

So here’s a fun fact about me: I am an actual living, breathing part of the Holy Grail mythology.

(Betcha didn’t see that coming)

 

 

Picture it: 1989. Everyone’s wearing paisley print and the airwaves are ruled by the likes of Paula Abdul and Milli Vanilli. Yes, it was a dark time in our history – and I’m sure the fact that I was a freshman in high school has nothing to do with that statement.

Oh, it wasn’t as bad as all that (being a freshman, I mean – the music was indeed that bad). I’d gotten involved in a handful of activities and met a whole bunch of people outside of my class. Between drama, the school newspaper, and wrestling, watching countless viewings of Monty Python and the Holy Grail with my best friend and working up the courage to almost ask girls out, I was pretty busy.

Through the newspaper and art class, I’d met a couple of seniors – Paul and Chris – who took me under their wing and introduced me to The Ramones. That was pretty huge for a little scrub frosh like me (note to self: review Rock ‘n’ Roll High School).

One day, I waltz into the newspaper room and find Paul and Chris hard at work on a Major Project. That project? Listing the Top 100 Rock Albums Of All Time. As you can imagine, a project like that leads to lots and lots of debate. I wasn’t privy to any of those discussions, primarily because the list was to be the basis of a contest in the school paper. The grand prize: The Holy Grail.

I never asked Paul and Chris how they happened upon the Holy Grail. They were seniors, after all.

Instead, I focused my energies into trying to guess what they would pick as the best rock album of all time. Led Zeppelin IV? Nah, too obvious. Something by the Ramones, maybe Rocket to Russia? Perhaps. Probably something a bit more popular, though, something alternative. In the end I went with my gut:

 

I chose… wisely. Weeks later, I had the Cup of Kings in my hands.

I suppose you’d like to hear about the Grail, eh? It’s not like you’d think. It certainly isn’t all jewel-encrusted and whatnot – that’s not the cup of a carpenter’s son. It was a good size cup, holding 12 to 16 ounces, and had a good weight to it Also, it was yellow and plastic, just like the people of Judea would have used back in the day. There was even a helpful piece of tape on it that read “The Holy Grail,” so I knew it was legit.

You’re probably wondering if I drank from the cup – it certainly would explain youthful demeanor and thick, luxurious hair. But no, it didn’t seem appropriate. Also, on the off-chance that this was not the one true Holy Grail, I didn’t want to turn into a crazy, long-haired skeleton thingie like that one Nazi in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Instead, I used it as my water cup in art class for my paint brushes. That seemed far more appropriate and since it was plastic, it was easy to wash.

I was in possession of the Holy Grail for about two years. I honestly don’t know what happened to it. I assume that one of my fellow art students stole it, but it just as easily could have been ninjas or Nazis or the Illuminati. Or some combination – Nazi ninjas, perhaps?

I admit that security for the Grail was pretty lax. It was a different time back then.