I was reading an article recently about toxic masculinity, and I was thinking about how it does us, as men, no good to pretend like we don’t cry, and probably quite a bit of harm. As I have already cried multiple times this morning for various reasons, I would like to go publically, on the record, and say I cry all the damn time.
I just cried watching a video of Drew Brees throwing his 540th touchdown pass.
Over the weekend I cried when the graduating seniors danced their final Nutcracker performance, and I don’t even have a graduating senior.
I cried the first TWO times I saw Hamilton.
I cry in movies when I see daughters achieving their dreams.
I cry when I think about things that will be hard on the kids when they get older.
I cry when I see school shootings on the news.
I literally got a tear when I typed that previous line, because holy crap.
This morning I got choked up during the Lobby sing when we were singing Jingle Bells and pretended like I was coughing and I don’t even know why, other than the fact that childhood is fleeting?
ALL.
THE DAMN.
TIME.
And I think, for my sons’ sake, it’s time to stop pretending like I don’t, or trying to cover it up when it happens like it’s something to be ashamed of.
Entire drama camp:
“🎵 Diarrhea, flowing river,
Cork it with a monkey liver! 🎵”
Can you tell the kids write their own lyrics??
Me: “We don’t go outside in our underwear! NOT EVEN to show someone a funny birthday card.”
This might not have been directed at the kid you are imagining.
Alex: “There was a bug in the bathroom! I got a piece of toilet paper but it disappeared.”
Me: “Oh no, what kind of bug was it? Was it a spider?”
Alex: “No…I think it was a scorpion.”
Alex, lying in bed: “I’m just feeling sad because I wish I could go back to all the days that have passed.”
That starts at 3 1/2????
Me: “I don’t know, two smores is a lot for a little guy…”
Alex: “But I’m not a little guy! I’m a 3 1/2 guy!”
Alex insisted he wash the dishes by himself. A few minutes later he yelled out, “Ughhgghh! I’m really tired of doing my hard job!” Then he happily carried on washing the dishes.
Sara: “Don’t touch your feet while you’re eating!”
Alex: “Why, my hands aren’t dirty!”
Sara: “This is going to sound geeky, but…I’m thinking about buying a fanny pack.”
By which I mean the Hamilton lottery, of course. The only one that counts!
The musical has a lottery system by which you enter for a chance to win Hamilton tickets for a “Hamilton” (Hamilton is on the $10 bill). I have dutifully entered this lottery for every performance for about THREE YEARS. You can imagine my surprise when I actually won!
Not only are the tickets super cheap, but they are very good tickets. I vaguely knew they were very good, but I didn’t realize they were FRONT ROW good until we got there!
Now, I know what you’re saying: haven’t you seen Hamilton before? Yes. *ahem* Three times before. BUT I ASK YOU, who would appreciate these seats more than me?
Okay, maybe one person, but I brought her with me!
Being this close was a TOTALLY different experience seeing the show, and really just unlike anything I have ever experienced. The seats are not good for actually seeing the show in the sense that you are almost too close. Anything that happens near the back of the stage is not visible. (Although it was really funny when they were on the rotate-y stage thing because you couldn’t see it and it seemed like they were just floating along by magic!)
Given that I’ve seen the show a number of times before and know the story and music forwards and back (and can probably “see” it with my eyes closed at this point), that wasn’t really a problem for me personally. And it was vastly, vastly outweighed by the awesomeness of how close people were when they came to the front of the stage. Aaron Burr in particular comes out to the very front often, and when he did, he was an arm’s length from me, at most.
I mean, I was so close I could have reached over and played the piano!
Because I was in the first row, I totally forgot there was anybody else in the theater. It was so intimate, like they were playing just for me. The lights were in my eyes, the bass was in my chest, and I totally forgot there was like 1000 of my closest friends sitting behind me; it was like they didn’t exist.
Oh hai there, where did you come from?
The thing is, there are so many things you notice when you’re that close. The acting is so much more pronounced when you can see their faces! And there are these moments with the crowd: sometimes they would lock eyes with someone and just give them a look. For example, there was one part where one of the dancers came up from the orchestra pit, and he kind of startled the woman sitting just to my right. After that he kept like winking at her and stuff. It was great! But you totally wouldn’t have even known that was happening if you were even a few rows back.
There are a million little things you can’t see unless you’re that close: little, hilarious quirked eyebrows, or expressions of grief, or tons and tons of sweat and spit. Seriously. We didn’t get spit on, but people on either side of us did.
Okay, but that got me thinking about what consummate professionals these people are. This is just a random Wednesday night, and each and every one of them is giving it their all, selling it with emotion, sweating it out, singing so hard their faces are turning red. FOR THE SECOND TIME THAT DAY! Just absolutely bringing it, nonstop (you see what I did there?)
LOOK AT HOW MANY COMPLICATED LIGHTS ARE UP THERE!
Another funny thing about being so close is you really just focus on the most random things. Like there is a person dancing two feet in front of you so you’re just staring at them, unable to look away. And then all of a sudden you’re like, “Oh, there is singing on the other side of the stage, what am I doing?!”
Anyway, the whole experience was utterly magical, and easily one of the best nights of my life. When it was over I was extremely reluctant to leave and just kind of lingered by the stage, hoping to prolong the magic. I’ve probably never been that close to ANY musical act, but to have it be the greatest musical of all time…
Thank you Hamilton lottery for giving us a night we will never forget!!
Sara: “Ollie said, ‘Tell Dad I love you 5000 times’ or something.”
Me: “Is it possible he said, ‘3000’?”
Sara: “Oh yeah, 3000.”
Me: “Did he… Did he possibly say, ‘I love you 3000’?”
Sara: “Yeah, maybe. Why?”
Me: 😍
Evelyn: “I’m sure next year we’ll go to <thing>. It’s up to your advisory teacher, but I’m sure our class will go…I know how to convince people to do things.”
I already feel sorry for her future teacher. You should ask her 4th grade teacher about the time she wanted to do pajama day…
Sara, pointing to a mosquito bite on her face: “Did you see that bug bite right there?”
Alex: “Maybe that’s just your fat cheek!”
Alex: “I never saw your face get so red before!”
Shane Halbach 