Spring Awakening

(transcribed from paper journal)

It was a packed house, and I felt so excited to be at a Broadway show on a Saturday night!

Then the show started, and it was everything I hoped it would be and more. Let's face it, I cried throughout, even when the song wasn't remotely sad. I loved the lighting and staging and seeing the songs I know so well in my head exploding into life.

The cast so impressed me so much that I don't think I can convey it aptly. Their voices were so powerful and amazing. I was especially impressed by the three leads, John Gallagher, Jr., Jonathan Groff, and Lea Michele. I had my typical anxiety that my favorite cast members would be played by understudies, but they were all there, there, there.

Some of the songs were regulars for me during my running training, and I know them inside and out and backwards, and to see them in person was just mindblowingly great. What can I even say. I wanted to jump out of my seat. These kids were really just phenomenally gifted.

It was especially great to see Gallagher as Moritz metamorphose during his songs from the meek, terrified kid to the full-on blazing powerhouse rock star. I would love to see his real-life band play. And I really thought that Groff was quite incredible as Melchior, whom I see as the heart of the whole damn story. I read one review that described his performance as "wan," and I was like, excuse me, WHAT? He was anything but wan. Even when he started doing some weird modern dance moves that were kind of like vogueing that made Shelley put her face in her hands, he was flat-out awesome. He really did a great job balancing being the wholesome and idealistic gentleman, the reckless and jerk-like adolescent boy, and the heroic rebel. I think they both definitely deserve Tony nominations.

And you could tell that the audience members, young and old, were really with the show the entire time. (Except for the mom who dragged out her 11-year-old son at the end of Act I -- she couldn't be convinced to stay by the lovely older couple behind us who encouraged her not to leave. My sister whispered loudly that she should let him stay because "THAT'S WHAT THIS SHOW IS ALL ABOUT!" Clearly.) At intermission, my sister expressed her discomfort about the way a key scene went down, but I was like, "What? You're crazy."

Then Act II started and flew by, and too soon it was almost over and I found myself losing all control of my tears and during "Those We've Known," I just kind of fell apart and wept in manner of a river. And the tears continued during "Purple Summer," even though that song is random and I have no idea what it's talking about or what it has to do with anything but it was so beautiful and I was so heartbroken that the spell was about to be broken that I just cried and cried like some kind of unbalanced lunatic. I was very composed and quiet about it, though, because I think those who make scenes in Broadway audiences should really be shot on the spot.

I'm not kidding when I say that when it ended, the audience leapt to its feet. And that lack of hesitation, that unquestioning, instant ovation was so moving to me that I had to keep crying. And I said goodbye to the stage (silently as not to appear crazy), shuffled out sniffling, and we headed home.

I'm not sure why I was such a basketcase about it, but there you go. I felt so lucky to see a show that I love with its original cast with two of the original loves of my life. It's okay that they didn't love it like I did. My love remains pure and true. It turns out that lots of people, we discovered, have the same problems that my sister did with that scene, but we all kind of agreed to embrace the ambiguity, amen.

Part of what I love about seeing a musical for the first time after only knowing the CD is that the plot transforms from uncertain to clear, the funny parts become hilarious, the sad parts become devastating, and you are close enough to see the sweat and the spit fly and really, what is better in this life than going to a Broadway musical? Not much, that's what.

I just turned on my iPod as I sit and wait on the runway to fly home, and what part of what song should be playing but "NYC, just got here this morning, three bucks, two bags, one me. NYC, I give you fair warning, up there in lights I'll be." I'll never be up there in lights, but I will always go back to see those who are and love it more than just about anything.

Honestly, I think I might be kind of inconsolable about the dearth of live musical theater in my life if not for the fact that I'll be seeing the Wicked tour very soon.

My romanticizing of New York is something I've mostly outgrown ... I realize that I could not live in such a maniacally loud, busy, crowded place, but the skyline still moves me and I still love the adventure of feeling brave enough to navigate and maneuver through the chaos if a bit spastically and with my hand sanitizer always within reach. It's so weird to think of Shelley not living there after seven years. I'll always look back on our times there together so happily, even when we screamed at each other. Even that is okay.

Overall, it was a great trip to NYC. I loved seeing Kymm and Anne, staying in Shelley's tiny and wonderful Chelsea studio, going to a museum and a Broadway show, eating Thai and Indian and Italian, going to Crumbs not once but twice, walking through the rain through some of my favorite neighborhoods all by myself without getting (totally) lost, and most of all, being with my beautiful friend and my beautiful sister before they set off for sights unseen.