. . . a disaster — but in the best possible way:  Disaster on Broadway.  Is it Shakespeare?  No.  Is it Hamilton?  No.  Will you laugh for two hours nonstop and love hearing all the old songs?  Yes.  (Do I have an interest in the show?  Indirectly, and infinitesimal.)

It was too much fun just to go home and write a column, so margaritas got involved, and then there was actual dancing on a bar (not by me), and then a large dog appeared and ate my homework.

Tomorrow: Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

 

 

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