Yippee-Kay-Yay, Broadway Lover!

This is a Broadway musical kind of time of year! The Tony nominations were announced this week. I heard all about it from my gay radio boyfriend, "The Ahmaaazing" Seth Ruetetsky on Sirius XM Broadway channel which plays non-stop in my car. (Don't ask me again: Seth and I have a kind of a "thing" going on and I can't explain it right now. Trust me - it's showtune terrific and, yes, ahmaaazing.) On top of all that, the Parkway Playhouse is gloriously near to beginning rehearsals for "Annie" - the first of two musicals I will perform in this summer.

Needless to say, my life is one big, elaborate musical number in my mind right now. (And when I say "right now" it could translate to "all the time" - except seriously more right now.) I've been humming showtunes all day long and dwelling incessantly on the emotions of my favorite shows. I am, simultaneously, attempting to train for a 5K which is coming up this Saturday and, while it is slow, plodding, and not entirely likely to continue for the 3.1 miles, I do so enjoy picking a new Broadway soundtrack on my iPod each time I go out running. It's like a melding of the physical and emotional in the best possible way.

Some time ago, it was my current obsession, "Wicked." I have likely listened to this complete soundtrack no less than 1000 times in the past five months, and it never ceases to amaze me. When I saw it onstage during a freak February snowstorm in South Carolina, my already-perfect vision of it was etched forever in my mind as a fantastic memory. After it had ended, and while the tears were likely still fresh on my cheeks, Ol' Scotty P. and I slipped and slid our way over a magical snow-covered bridge to our cozy hotel room (me, of course, in ridiculously impractical Italian leather three-inch heels, holding Scotty P. with all my might so as not to tumble) and we ate take-out New York Carnegie Deli cheesecake while I wore my souvenir Wicked track jacket and remarked that it was almost as good as being in NYC. And it was, almost. Kind of like how listening to the soundtrack now is almost as good as that night in South Carolina. Almost.

Last week, for example, I chose "Miss Saigon." This is maybe not the most obvious option, but I do love it so. It reminds me of being a naive young adult who still believed in that kind of perfect, self-sacrificing love. I used to listen to my cassette tape copy of it in my freshman dorm room at WVU while I did my homework and tears would stream down my face at the tragic, sorrowful end - which I will not reveal, in case some dear readers are not familiar. (To which I say - get out there and listen! There is no greater joy than immersing oneself in a musical story from start to end, in one sitting, to discover a story told in glorious, delicious song...)

I remember the first time I saw it onstage in Pittsburgh, and how excited I was to finally put a visual to the songs I had memorized for so many years. I've seen it another time since, but somehow, it never had the same emotional kick that those cassette tapes held for an 18-year-old kid away from home, clumsily finding her way to adulthood. That is what that show really means for me, and thank goodness for it. It's a lovely memory to match a lovely show.

And then, a few days ago, in the steamy humidity of the afternoon, I could not help but pick "Oklahoma!" I so wanted to relish the memories of last summer's Parkway Playhouse production - to feel the stickiness of the backstage in the summer heat, to sense the butterflies of "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" when it begins so precious and sweet. As anyone who has ever talked to me in the past year knows, if I could bottle those nine or so performances from last year and relive them forever, I would in a heartbeat. It was therapy in the best sense of the word - I found myself on that old wooden stage in Burnsville, NC, and I vowed to hold onto that joy forever.

So, when I set out running to those terrific tunes, it was like coming full circle. I ran and I thought - about all the new memories of this summer coming up, of the changes on the horizon, of making my home here in the mountains of North Carolina.

That is the true story behind the Broadway love - what it means for me, the feelings and love that rise in my soul when I hear some showtunes and can't help but belt along. It is, as Seth would say, "Ahmaaazing!"

And I cherish it so.