I remember when I first saw commercials for the television show Community. It must have been way back because it was not only a time that I had regular TV, but I had the kind of TV where I would have noticed commercials for a new show. I was geeking out because Parks & Rec started around the same time, and those two shows combined finally kind of explained what I did for a living: collegiate recreation. It was kind of like working in a Parks & Rec office but serving the population of Community.
Don't get me wrong, both shows are full of weirdos, but the Community weirdos were college-age. Or, at least, the kind of college age as the students I worked with at the time, which meant, mostly in their 20's but also older and younger and from an incredible range of backgrounds (except geographical as most were from Chicago).
I should also say that I mean weirdos as one of the highest compliments I have to give. It's very likely that these students, together, weren't weirdos, much as the citizens of Pawnee were obviously connected when you'd see the town hall scenes. But, all mixed together, they were so very much individuals that fitting in, like in Community, became more about who you would hang with, rather than what you looked like. Your past experiences only mattered if they mattered to you... or if you just couldn't help bringing them with you because they were part of you.
But also, they were weird. Weird in a wonderful way as in I loved that despite the routine of my work-related tasks, I never knew what each day would break. From high jump competitions to e-mails about the importance of shoe-lace tying instruction (an e-mail I actually received) to music videos to shit talking to individualized high five routines (one of which may have mimicked Troy and Abed). We even had our own Star Burns. My own community taught me so much and made me want to be better for them. I loved it there. I watch reruns of Community to remind myself of the person and professional my community made me want to be: smart, driven, and service-oriented without ever taking myself, or others, too seriously.
All of that is why I was SO stoked to see that Danny Pudi (who played Abed in Community) would be coming to Chicago's Sketchfest with Parvesh Cheena in a show called Parv and Pudi.
Unlike the other shows I'd been to at Sketchfest, Parv & Danny did more storytelling. The stories were hilarious and heartfelt. They seemed truly filled with joy in performing and engaging with the audience that was equally filled with joy in their sharing. I'm so thankful that I was able to be a witness to their on-stage play, and I won't say more than that about the show because, as someone once described to me, sometimes, when we spread our stories all around, they become less ours, less special. I want to hold this one special to me and to encourage you to take the opportunity to see Parv, Danny, or any of your favorites. I know there's also the old line to never meet your heroes, and while I wouldn't call Pudi one of my heroes, I have been a fan of his work, I'm so glad I took the chance to see him off screen, along with his friend, of whom I am also a fan now. Sometimes it's nice to know that the people you cheer on in life might just be some of the good ones.
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