. . . 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
