Carleigh Bettiol, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr., and Anthony Ramos in Hamilton. Photo credit: Joan Marcus.

From Abby Outterson ’16

1. When your significant other tells you the writer of a well-loved Broadway musical is giving the keynote commencement speech at his college graduation, surprise him by showing up. Remember, you are excited about the graduation part. Try not to drool during the speech.
2. When you find out said significant other could have secured free tickets to the writer’s latest Broadway hit as shown at that same university, chide him relentlessly. If not for yourself, do it for your sister. He knew as well as you did that she is borderline obsessive, and was probably watching the livestream of the graduation speech somewhere before she realized you were actually there.
3. When your dad tells you he is taking your sister to see the show for her birthday in the Spring, remember that you are 22 years old, and throwing a temper tantrum because your birthday came and went before he had this idea is not age-appropriate. But let him know you’re disappointed, just in case.
4. When he calls you to give you his ticket because he heard some of his students talking about the show and, “You’ll appreciate it more than I will, I’ll just see it some other time without the original cast,” try not to drip snot onto the phone while you tearfully inform him that he doesn’t know what he’s given up, but yes, you are happy to accept his very kind offer. You have three classes that day but this is far more important. As if the years of changing jobs to spend time with his family and taking on extra work so he could put you through a private liberal arts school to emerge debt-free pale in comparison to what he has just offered.
5. Put the phone down with the resolve to make this the best theater experience of your young life. Prepare for your role of substitute audience member with dignity and diligence. Watch Youtube lyric videos from the soundtrack so you know enough of the words by heart so that you won’t miss anything, but not so many that you are tempted to sing along during the show. Allow yourself to cry along to a few of them, but limit yourself to one binge every 2 weeks. Cry too much, and the crying at the performance may lose its authenticity, which is of utmost importance.
6. When thoughts of illegally filming the show bubble to the surface, SUPPRESS THOSE THOUGHTS. You respect this guy, remember? You saw the speech? And anyway, your Dad didn’t give up his seat for you to watch the thing through a tiny screen while history happens live in front of you.
7. Try not to let your housemates catch on to how excited you are about seeing this show. Too much buildup will lead to impossible expectations.
8. When they ask why they’ve heard the same song blasting from the living room for the third time, explain the entire history of the show, from the moment when the writer got his first inspiration for the concept, to how it relates to his childhood, to the moment at the White House poetry jam when he delivered the first 16 bars of the show before it had been conceived. Suppress the urge to make them watch that video. Watch it on repeat by yourself instead. Use headphones.
9. The night before the show, try to go to bed early so you won’t be exhausted at the end of your train ride into the City tomorrow. When you find yourself playing your favorite songs from the show on Youtube, make an executive decision and snap your computer shut. Dream of endless staging and choreography possibilities. When the dramatic memory-nightmares return as they have been for the past few weeks, turn back to the stage you will see tomorrow. Imagine that you are producing the entire show in your sleep tonight, and tomorrow it will come true. Remember the other dreams you’ve had that have come true. Try not to think about the impossibly high expectations of dreams becoming reality.
10. When you wake up, make yourself eat. Make a list of things you must remember to pack so you don’t arrive without eyeliner. Pack everything on the list, except pajamas. By the time you realize you’ve forgotten them, the show will be over. Will you even be able to sleep?
11. Get dressed for the show before you go to your first class. Leave 20 minutes early to catch your ride to the train station. Try to ignore the beads of sweat that bubble from your skin like your whole body is breaking down. Try not to imagine the car flooding.
12. When you get on the train, set up entertainment for yourself by buying Beyonce’s new album. When it tells you it will complete downloading in 14 hours, will yourself to doze off instead. Eat a lunch of gummies, almonds, and iced tea. Consider the meaning behind your purchasing the train ticket for the following day. It’s like time has become a lightning bug that keeps slipping through your fingers when all you want to do is enjoy the glimmer it offers from moment to moment. You’ve got a very big glimmer coming your way. If only you can catch it.
13. When you step off the train, try not to be disgusted by the loudness of the city. You’ve never really understood the appeal of “the greatest city in the world,” but maybe it’s because you’re always there on your way to somewhere else. As you speed-walk the ten blocks to the theater, listen to the words around you. “He doesn’t know you know.” “Something has changed, something very big has definitely changed!” “You’re getting me confused with someone else- we never go out! Never!” For a city often described as “bustling,” people sure walk slowly here.
14. When you find your family members, say something snarky to remind them that you’re very tired. When your sister points out an ensemble member in street clothes, roll your eyes like her level of obsession has surpassed the “healthy” range. Chat openly and loudly about the people waiting in line to be among the first in the theater. “Don’t they know the seating is already arranged?” you wonder pointedly. Resist the urge to squeeze each and every shoulder in the line in comradeship. Maybe they just want to differentiate themselves from the plebs walking through without tickets. And so do you.
15. When you find your seat between an elderly couple and a young(ish) couple (your family couldn’t sit together- this is a seriously sold-out show), give yourself a few deep breaths. You are an adult. You are an adult with dignity. When the curtain rises and the music begins, press the lyrics buzzing at your lips down through your body like coffee grounds through a press, hitting your heart on the way down. Let them settle at your toes. Lean forward onto your knees to calm them from involuntary gyrating. Remind your eyes to move. Let yourself go hungry.
16. When the show is over, get a slice of pizza while your sister waits outside the stage door. This pizza is the best thing you’ve ever tasted. New York’s not so bad, you tell her when you rejoin her in the crowd. Watch cast members sneak off on the other side of the street, turn the corner. Wonder for the first time if you envy them, or if you’re just happy to be yourself. Worry about it for a moment, and then let it go. Maybe it’s one of those things, this one time.
17. When everyone asks you how it went, tell them it was everything. Don’t tell them it introduced you to new parts of yourself. Instead, tell them about the moment halfway through when the woman on your left reached for her husband’s hand. Tell them about the puddles of tears you and the man on your right shed together. Tell them about the brightness of the costumes, the precision of the choreography. The moments of humor. Tell them, but don’t tell them too much. Make sure you keep something to dream about.

Illustration by Abby Outterson.

Abby Outterson is a blogger for the Skidmore Theater Living Newsletter.