So this past Sunday, Father’s Day, my family and I traveled to NYC to watch the musical Dear Evan Hansen on Broadway. Now I wont say too much, nor give a synopsis (because I suck at those), but I will say it was awesome. If you ever have an opportunity to see a Broadway show, Dear Evan Hansen is now the top of my list of Favorites. So speaking of Fathers, my own Dad was with me for this show. I was told beforehand that I should expect to shed a few tears, and boy were they not kidding.
Now there is a scene in the show where a Dad, toward the end of act one, finally breaks down and cries about the situation at hand. It isn’t highlighted or anything– kind of off to the side during a large number where other things are going on. But boy did that hit me in the heart. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I see my own Dad cry (which is twice in my lifetime), I cry. I guess that translates to fictional dads as well. I did see my own blink a little rapidly at the scene… but no actual tears.
The whole story was an emotional roller coaster. I laughed and cried. The show talks about some serious issues regarding metal health, suicide, and the viral web. Really one of the most modern and thought provoking musicals I have seen this far. Well, definitely the most modern. I don’t think I have seen anything that has taken place after the 80’s or wasn’t a fantasy world.
Also, my sister has introduced me to this whole ‘stage door’ thing. What fun. I think it is great that these actors and actresses take time to come great their fans! The most famous people I have ever met, that is for sure. And I am okay with that.
No reading this week 😦 but some writing did get done. Which is what I am supposed to be doing right now. A blog post counts, right?
Finally. Living in the northeastern United States, I should be familiar with ‘fake spring’, but it doesn’t make it any easier when it snows in the middle of April. It has been a crazy past few days, between hosting a bridal shower, and a whirlwind trip to go see Frozen on Broadway (more on that later). I did my first paint and sip this past weekend as well. It was really fun, but the perfectionist in me did not like the time limit. Something that would take me a full day, done in two hours. No wonder they serve alcohol. Despite all of that activity, I have been writing and reading, AND I went for a run yesterday. Which is good, seeing as I have a race this Saturday.
Running is really important to me. It is the main reason I lost a good chunk of weight a few years back (that and not drinking Snapple peach iced tea in bucket-loads). I hated it. I was so bad. It made me angry that I was bad at it, so I challenged myself to get better. First it was two minutes straight running on the treadmill. Then more. I remember the day I ran for ten minutes, no break. I cheered in the gym. Talk about socially awkward, but I don’t care. Months later I was running my first half marathon. I don’t do those anymore, but a 5k here and there keeps me motivated. It has been great for my mental health. I have the tendency to overthink things, and running rolls right over those thoughts, forcing me to focus on stuff like, you know– breathing/staying alive. One of my favorite authors, Haruki Murakami has a book about running. I actually owned it way before discovering his other stuff. I still haven’t read it yet. That will be my goal this summer.
So, Frozen on Broadway, was it any good? Hell yes. The cast was amazing, the music was great. Favorite song by far was one of the new ones with Oaken, Hygge. Finding a spider in your shoe– not Hygge! That set though. I used to be a techie back in the high school days, and I appreciate a great set. This is by far the best one I’ve seen. Along with the digital effects during the show. I don’t have a lot of Broadway experience (this is my third show ever), so take that with a grain of salt. I am very lucky, and will get to see Dear Evan Hansen next month. Doubling my musical count in one year! I have to thank my younger sister for that. Her addiction has spread throughout our family.