I will be shamelessly self-promoting my new photo blog, leaving the zip code, here from now on. You won’t be disappointed, I promise. Let’s see if some of you will take the ‘submit’ challenge.
Last night, thanks to Dr. Jimmy the quintessential NY connection man, I was fortunate to see a performance of Hair in Central Park. (I love that they call it “The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical”)
A truly magical New York moment. The weather was perfect, the crowd was thrilled to be there and the performers were spectacular. We appreciated it all the more as we had been rained out a few weeks ago. Kind of like getting a cool hair(re)do.
40 years later we are struggling with many of the same issues:
• A senseless war (thank goodness without a draft)
• Generational misunderstandings (if I read one more friggin’ blog post where parents complain about their teenagers I will scream. Get a grip out there for G-d sakes. You sound worse than you thought your parents did.)
• Dissatisfaction with ‘the man’ (whoever he/she is at the moment)
• Young people trying to find themselves. (baby boomers, hippies, punkers, gen x, y and z – no joke, they had to stop naming them because they hit the end of the alphabet. how about gen AA – like theatre seats)
Now here are some interesting observations that ran through my very noisy head during the show:
1. Hippies begat capitalists
2. Better yet, hippies BECAME capitalists!
3. Clothing: for young women – almost the same! Walk into Urban Outfitters, you can see my entire 9th grade wardrobe. Moms, fyi, if you wore it the first time around chances are you should leave it on the racks for your daughters. Go classic, much more becoming.
4. I am pretty sure I must have owned the soundtrack to this show because somehow I knew the words to almost every song, even the obscure ones! (…I met a boy named Frank Mills, on September the 12th right here, in front of the Waverly, but unfortunately, I lost his address…)
5. And last, but not least, I rekindled my undying love for the City of New York, where you can walk into Central Park on a Thursday night at the tail end of the summer and be reminded about how good it is to be alive. (ok, so maybe I drank the NY Cool-aid last night, give me a break. I had a hard week).
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