Not being much for religion or religious holidays in this household, we celebrated the coming of spring last night with a roast chicken and scalloped potatoes (boy – heavy cream and gruyere will really send potatoes over the top!) and today for Easter Sunday, Bella and I each took a friend to see the Broadway musical Wicked at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood.
Too bad it was a bit of a disappointment. Granted, my friend loved it, and so did Bella’s friend – she liked it better than the two other Broadway productions she’s seen with us: Chicago and Thoroughly Modern Millie. But Bella thought there was “too much singing” and well, I have to agree. I generally love musicals, but being that they depend on music and singing, the music and lyrics have to be good! Or catchy at least – but I tell you, after three hours of watching Wicked, I don’t think I could tell you one line from a song or hum one teeny phrase of music; really, it was that forgettable.
Of course, the acting was entertaining and the set was fabulous (my friend got her degree in set design, so that probably influenced her enjoyment), but when you start thinking about how much your butt hurts and wishing for the end – you know that your mind hasn’t been taken very far away.
The real pleasure of the day was a cheerful dinner afterwards at the California Pizza Kitchen and Pinkberry fro-yo for dessert with lots of good conversation in between. Plus seeing how utterly fabulous your recently divorced friend looked. Truly, age has nothing to do with good looks and sex appeal. She turned a half dozen heads this evening. I wish I could say that I had something to do with that, but I imagine that my nearly seven month pregnant belly attracts more fatherly half-grins than head spins – although I am very happy about my new maternity dress; I’m whale-like, but in a very respectable fashion.