In 1897 Cornelius Mopp and Katerina Buketski left PT Parnum and set out on a quest to find a new theatre—a theatre free of the trite, stale conventions of the day. Connie, as his friends called him, and Katya, as her friends called her, and their dog Ampersand, as his friends called him, traveled the globe in search of their new theatre.
They endured hunger, seasickness, exposure to the elements, and scurvy. They were often out of touch with friends and family for months at a time. (No cell phones, you know. No selfies.) They experimented ceaselessly. Dog acts. Trained parakeets. They attempted variations on plate spinning, one of which led to the disastrous Wedgewood jardinière incident at their White House performance for President and Mrs. Teddy Roosevelt in 1904.
Sadly, Mopp and Buketski never found their new theatre. They faded into obscurity. But we are here now, and so are you. We have smart phones. And pizza is freely available, delivered to our door whenever we want it. Aren’t you glad we’re us?
The story of Connie and Katya makes us sad. We need a much better origin myth. If you would like to suggest one, please comment below! We will be accepting origin stories until we find "The One." Then that story will become the one we use to explain the name, whenever we are asked.