hair

I stayed up late last night, so I could catch the “Hair” final dress rehearsal in Central Park, and I think I would recommend it. I’m not a huge musical theater fan in general, because of its seeming steadfast commitment to NOT act, (Dude, is a song a monologue? Could you maybe pick a point of view? Just saying, it’s helpful to do that sort of thing when performing a role) and while that approach is a bit alive in last night’s production, I still enjoyed it. First of all, the songs in that show are fantastic! “Age of Aquarius”? “President of Love”? “Hair”? “Let the Sunshine In”? If only I can come back in the next life as a young, beautiful African-American torch singer, I would break out in “Age of Aquarius” whenever I felt like it…the laundry room, the post office, the mall.

I also felt so sorry for the actors, clad in leather vests, blue jeans, and period wigs in this heat — it’s two hours of intense singing and dancing. Some of them were sweating so much that their mics went haywire. They were incredible sports.

Sometimes when I do go to theater, I think about what turn my life has taken and what I might be missing. With this show, that moment happened when they were headbanging during “Hair,” and I thought “So why am I in an office gig again?” Oh yeah, money — which I’m not knocking. Money is very helpful. It helps us eat and keeps the roof over our heads, but I really, really love head banging. *sigh* I enjoyed a rare head banging session hanging at a bar with friends from the office, but the owner asked me to sit down. I think I was making him nervous. 🙁 big 🙁

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