Two or three years ago, everyone who had ready access to Broadway plays raved about Hamilton. It was so fresh and different and wonderful, they said. Yeah, I suppose it is, I thought, but I wasn’t all fired up to see it. I didn’t listen to the soundtrack. I didn’t read the supporting documents. I just didn’t catch the bug. I did watch Lin-Manuel Miranda host Saturday Night Live, and he seemed like an okay dude then. It wasn’t until I watched him tell the story on Drunk History that I really paid attention. Okay, the story seemed a little more interesting after that. Then someone I watch (Randy Rainbow, maybe?) parodied The Room Where It Happens, and I grooved along with it. Now I find L-MM turning up all over the place, showing off his classic nerd bona fides, and I really enjoy listening to him talk.
It was only a matter of time before I had done a 180, and decided I would move heaven and earth to see Hamilton when the touring company made their Denver stop. Luckily I didn’t have to work that hard to do it. My good buddy who had the season tickets to the Buell Theater (until she decided this year they weren’t worth renewing, just for the one or two shows she really wants to see each season), she took the lead and bought four tickets. She did it on faith, that someone would want to go. At first her kids turned their noses up, and three of her friends (I was first to speak up) immediately chimed in to go along. By the time our showtime was upon us, the kids wanted to go, but we grown women were not giving away our shot.
We carpooled downtown, parked at the DCPA, and walked around a bit. We started with drinks at The Office, where I found the most divine Old Fashioned, made with clove syrup. It was ridiculously potent on my empty stomach, and to my dismay, the theater was completely sold out of the cheese and charcuterie plates that could have soaked it up. I had to metabolize all that whisky quickly to be able to follow along with the rapid fire delivery of the spectacular lyrics of this musical. Our seats were super close to the stage, but unfortunately for me, I was the farthest left of the group, so I had the biggest chunk of the scenery tucked out of sight.
I may have taken years to warm up to the idea of seeing this play, but it didn’t take a full minute of performance time before I was thoroughly enraptured. I know I blinked and clapped, but I don’t think I moved a muscle otherwise. I was riveted. I’m ready for film adaptations, and I want them now!
We ended out girls day out over at Stout Street Social. It was packed, but we had reservations. Unfortunately, the large crowd meant a couple screwups in getting the things we ordered actually delivered to the table. The food and company more than made up for hit or miss service.
Long story short, when you get the chance to see Hamilton, don’t drag your feet like I did for the first few years of its existence. Go. Go immediately.
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