Last night I went to the opening of Hair on Broadway, and for lack of a more elegant way to say it, it was one of the greatest nights of theater I have seen in this city. It was so engaging and ebullient and freeing—I danced on stage like a Dionysian bar maid afterwards, and wore a flower in my hair until I went to sleep. I think I missed my calling with the Krishnas.
Brantley gave it a rave, saying it really captures youth. It certainly reminded me how young I am, how much life I (hopefully) have yet to go, and how perhaps I should use it for good. In any case, the theater lives! If you can see this thing, see this thing.