Day 111

Hamilton was fabulous! I’ve been wanting to see it since it first opened, but Broadway tickets are beyond what we can afford. Everyone I knew who had see it, loved it. I admit I’m not generally a huge fan of plays. It’s a liability of having a short attention span. I usually have trouble sitting still long enough to get through a movie, and plays are generally longer. But Hamilton is history, and since I like history, I thought maybe it might be enough to hold my interest. I expected to like it, I wasn’t expecting to thoroughly enjoy it. From the opening song, I was engaged. My son watched it begrudgingly, and he started out bored, but by intermission his interest had taken root. My spouse fell asleep. I’d watch it again, and I rarely watch anything twice. That’s how much I liked it.

But throughout the show, my thoughts kept drifting to Libby — my childhood friend who in her late teens and early twenties fell in love with Broadway — and my dad who enjoyed Broadway so much he and mom went to at least one show every year. Both of them would have been liked Hamilton. Libby often fell in love with one of the actors, and I wondered who in Hamilton would have caught her eye. Dad enjoyed musicals the most, the singing and dancing is what electrified the experience for him. But I had to wonder what he would have thought of the music in Hamilton. Would the rapping have turned him off — he was never a fan — or would the historical story have made it tolerable? I wish he were here. I wish I could call him up and say, “Next time I visit, how about we watch Hamilton?” He would have been excited. It would have made him happy. But I can only spin the narrative of what might have been, imagine how the conversation might have transpired. Because in reality, it will never happen. My son was initially troubled at the historical inaccuracy of black people playing the roles of the white Founding Fathers, but by the end he appreciated the irony. He even speculated what Jefferson might have thought about a black man playing him. I speculated about what my dad might have said to my son, the dialogue they might have shared.

It’s the 4th of July, but it feels like any other day. My brother-in-law got married this evening. We didn’t go. With a guest list of more than sixty people, and at least one person flying in from the south, we feared it might not be safe to attend. My spouse drove up to visit her brother this morning, to congratulate him, and to drop off a gift. This evening, she and my son watched the wedding via Zoom from the comfort of our living room. 

This afternoon, we took our camping chairs and glasses of wine over to visit neighbors across the street. We had a lovely time. Even my son perked up when the conversation turned toward fantasy novels. I love that when we were discussing Harry Potter he had no problem disagreeing with me and arguing his point regarding the Weasleys and their relationship to money.