Two hours from now, I will be sitting in the Harris Theatre, listening to Stephen Sondheim. Talk.
No singers, no orchestra, no piano. Not a performance of Sondheim's music, but Sondheim discussing his music, his lyrics, his career, his theories and ideas.
And if we're lucky, a few killer stories about Elaine Stritch: The Boozy Years. Or his former next door neighbor, Katharine Hepburn.
(Typing that made me realize that tonight may come dangerously close to being Uber-Gay. You know, that gay beyond gay where Rip Taylor lives. We may fall into the area where Queer folds in on itself. And we can finally reach it with our mouths)
For those of you who might think that an evening listening to someone talk about the creation of a piece of musical theatre would be about as fun as felching Anthrax out of Dick Cheney's mangina, check out this clip.
It's Sondheim laughing about the lyrics he wrote for the song "Somewhere" in "West Side Story."
So funny. So brilliant. And I'm SO tempted to throw my underwear on stage tonight. If I was wearing any underwear, that is...