Complain all you want about our lack of privacy in the era of the internet, but remember when I was ten years old I managed to get my hands on the home address of a Tony- and Pulitzer Prize-winning composer/lyricist with only my ingenuity and the public library.
Earlier today I was tweeting with Mildly Bitter about my plans for coping with Stephen Sondheim’s eventual death and now I’m going to be sad for the rest of the day.
Once, many years ago, in a discussion about Merrily We Roll Along, someone pointed out that it’s nearly impossible to complete the part of “Who Wants to Live in New York” that Joe cuts off.
Someone suggested “…ever since I met you, I sleep with boys.”
Now I mentally fill that in every time I hear the song.
Sometimes, people say things about songs that get stuck in your head and forever become a part of that song for you.
The first time I ever listened to “Finishing the Hat” with my friend Audrey, the song ended and she looked at the CD player and said, “What do you want, Mandy Patinkin, a gold star?”
And now, every time… Look I made a hat… where there never was a hat… WHAT DO YOU WANT, MANDY PATINKIN, A GOLD STAR?