Hair, A Summer Night in Central Park

I've never been to a Broadway musical.  I was this close to my first musical in seventh grade when my M.G. (mentally gifted - don't ask) class organized a field trip to the Arden Theater's production of Sweeney Todd, but alas, the admissions office schedule of the school which I would adopt as my home the following year took priority over my interests to partake in the outing.  Since that lost opportunity (Philadelphia was hot for Sweeney Todd as it had been decades since the play came to the city), I've never felt an urge to see a live musical, even when I transplanted my non-musical ass to the home of Broadway theater a year ago.

I know: some of your jaws just dropped; some of you are shaking your heads to the rhythm of your "tsk tsk tsks"; and the rest of you are more reasonable folks who have never expressed interest in watching grown men and women dance, sing, and strip naked on a stage three feet in front of you.  And you are now wondering what the heck I'm talking about.

Courtesy of a friend who celebrated his 32nd birthday on Saturday, I was the grateful beneficiary of tickets to the Public Theatre's Shakespeare in the Park production of Hair.  NOT Hairspray, but Hair.  To explain just how precious these tickets are: you either donate $160 to the Public Theater and receive a single ticket from the limited bucket of "for purchase" tickets, or you wake up at 6 am on the morning of the show and stand in a wickedly long line in Central Park for free tickets.  The Public's mission is to make theater accessible to all residents of New York City à la first-come-first-serve.  Only in New York, right?  As you can imagine, it's a huge ordeal to stand in line for these tickets.  It's not unusual for residents to begin lining up at midnight the night before the show to claim a prized pair.  I am ever so grateful not only for the opportunity to have celebrated a friend's birthday in such an extravagant fashion, but to have seen this show without having to wait in line, and especially to have been seated dead center in the second row of the outdoor amphitheater style Delacorte Theater.  [Despite the occasional whiff of mildew most likely from the turf lining the stage of the outdoor theater,] the show was fantastic, the company appreciated, and the music pumping.

Being the good citizen I am, I abided by the strict no-camera policy enforced by the hawk-eyed volunteer staff stationed every three feet along each aisle.  Therefore, I have no pictures from inside the theater or during the performance to keep my memory of the happy evening alive - I have only my own memories of the trippy dance sequences, catchy tunes, vibrant colors of the hippy costumes, and the rich voices of the cast to treasure.  After the cast took their bows, we fun members of the audience joined them on stage and danced to a couple songs as the live band rocked away.  So much fun - a night I'll cherish for a long time to come.