… hey I love you … that was indecent wasn’t it? oh good . . . things are looking up …

Look, I had a moment of weakness today. Really weak. A dear friend told me to let myself off the hook, that I was one of the good guys. Okay. I will go with that. And accept that I, like everyone else, need to keep evolving. So, I cried.  A bit, and as always when I am losing it, I turned to music. And as luck would have it, I found these videos of songs I absolutely adore.

Mary Testa singing a William Finn song. I adore the song. The sentiment. And the singer.

Mary Testa again. I once gave this song to a twelve year old child who I had playing a bag lady in one of the brilliant summer shows I wrote. Yeah I said brilliant. They were. I signed up kids and wrote shows around them using existing songs from musicals. I am telling you, some of these shows were AMAZING.

And then, there was this. Carolee Carmello singing – there is no visual – “Fifty Percent” from Ballroom. I love this song. I also gave this to someone in a summer musical. Oh, confession, I do sometimes miss those summer musicals I wrote almost as much as I miss that person who would never let me love them, that someone from whom I accepted a tiny little percentage of their love, and, turns out, I was begrudged even that.

AND WHAT THE HELL? Carolee Carmello and Barbara Walsh were in the 1990 Chess tour? HOLY SHIT? I love YouTube.

And when I go Chess, it takes me to Julia Murney who is one of my favorite divas who ought to be worshipped by the entire world. Oh, that voice. Here she is with Nobody’s Side. HOLY SHIT – THAT BELT! THAT ACTING!

And, I can’t really START with Julia without going here – to the Funny Girl concert and her version of People. WHY DID THEY NOT REVIVE THIS SHOW FOR HER? She is the ONLY one since Streisand who could possibly have played this role.

Oh Charlie. I have been singing these same songs in front of these same mirrors since I was six years old. Jesus. Isn’t it time . . .  oh, never mind.Funny, right? No. Sometimes it ain’t so funny . . .


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