The beauty, the splendor, the wonder

Last Friday I got to see Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical on Broadway. Somehow I’d made it 24 years (almost 25!) without hearing any of the music, so it was all new.

And now I have had, alternately over the past four days, “Hair,” “Let The Sun Shine In,” and “Manchester England” stuck in my head. (And now “Suffer Little Children” by the Smiths because of the Manchester mention.)

For others who haven’t seen it either, it won’t be giving anything away to say it’s about a bunch of hippie flower children in the ’70s, most of whom burn their draft cards, one of whom does not. That’s pretty much it as far as plot goes; it’s mostly a singing and dancing spectacle. The cast runs through the audience a lot, and they handed out flowers.

Real flowers! Which I put in this nice bud vase (or triple shot glass, take your pick) when I got home. You may, if you look closely, notice there’s an odd reflection – not in the window, but in front of the windowsill. That is because, after repeatedly asking the landlord to do something about the obvious gaps around the window, which were leading to frozen drafts of icy tundra air and rendering my tiny radiator ineffective, a couple of practical-minded friends came over and sealed the windows up with plastic. Problem solved!

Funny thing I noticed when buying a couple of tracks from Hair off iTunes: the first review began “Even though I disagreed with practically every second of the show…” (doesn’t THAT sound like a fun person to hang out with!), and the second review was titled “Gavin Creel is a God.” (Creel is the actor who plays Claude, and he was in fact fantastic.)

[photo stolen from internet via google image search]

What I’ve been reading: Beatrice & Virgil, Yann Martel; Let The Great World Spin, Colum McCann

What I’ve been listening to: Hair, Wilco, the Weakerthans

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