That’s one sentence I never imagined I’d write. Really didn’t
see this one coming. But it’s true. Alex, as she calls him, permeates her every
waking thought.
You’d think a typical dad like myself would be pleased that
his precocious and energetic child was focusing her young intellect on the life
and philosophy of one of the greatest minds in American history. But no.
I fondly miss her past days of being singularly pre-occupied
with a certain insufferable British YouTube duo, named Dan and Phil, which she
still is when not talking, singing, or reciting random facts about our nation's first secretary of the treasury.
What's next, a musical about math? Or cumulus clouds? Or cats? ... Oh wait, never mind. (I also just noticed the "Parental Advisory" label -- wish I saw that earlier). |
And what ever happened to the happier days of her youth when
she would endlessly belt Fall Out Boy lyrics, or wistfully engage in a game of name
that obscure Disney tune with her siblings. Ever heard your kid sing “Great Spirits” from
Brother Bear? I have. Or at least, I used to.
Now, she’s more likely to rap the preamble to the Constitution,
or shake her shoulders and sing, “I’m not throwing away my … shot.”
Not to mention, she knows more random facts about Alexander Hamilton
than any 12-year-old should. Heck, I
have a graduate degree in political science – which I’m still paying for, by
the way – and she has more Hamiltonian and revolutionary facts stored in her young
brain then I was ever exposed to in all of college, and I had a whole grad-level
class on Alexander Hamilton and the constitutional convention, taught by a renowned
expert on Hamilton. This play's soundtrack has taught her more about the founding of our country than I learned in grad school.
Sure, that was a while ago. But I didn’t recall that
Hamilton wrote 50 of the 85 Federalist Papers.
[Daughter chimes in]: “Actually, he wrote
51, dad.”
What?
“The plan was to write
25. John Jay got sick after writing 5. James Madison wrote 29. Hamilton wrote the
other … 51.”
Oh. Thanks.
“He also wrote an 80
page essay to a supporter of King George III named Sam Seabury about how colonial
England was a tyrannical government.”
See what I mean. It’s not that I have anything against Hamilton,
though truthfully I always considered myself more of a Jefferson guy.
It’s just kind of weird to have my days filled with all these random facts from
American history. You know, I mean, political
philosophy and the fundamental questions about democratic principles have their
place. But do we really have to talk about Hamilton’s design of our national financial
system at the dinner table. Can’t we just talk about how school went today?
I’m sure many people reading this know the root cause of my
problem. It’s her mother. She’s the one who studied theater in college, and
turned my daughter on to classics like Les
Miserable, years ago. The soundtrack to Les
Mis was actually the first album she put on her first MP3 player when she
was little. (Yes, that was her first electronic gadget – a true gateway
electronic, if you ask me).
She used to sing “On My Own” ad nauseam when she was a
spritely 7 years old. Which, in hindsight, was kind of cute.
Which gets us to the actual cause of my Hamilton-obsessed-child
problem: Theater.
For those who don’t know, and I counted myself among you
until recently, there is a new “smash hit” on Broadway about the life and times
of, get this, Alexander Hamilton. Apparently, it’s a cross-genre, hip-hop and classic,
historically accurate, tear-jerker of a musical that follows this founding
father through the revolution and early years of our great democratic experiment.
It sounds like a total flop, right? But the aptly-titled Hamilton, which began
off-Broadway last January, made the move to the bigger stage in August and is now
sold out for the foreseeable future and, good-money has it, it’s a shoo-in to
win a bunch of Tony Awards. I heard that last part.
About a month and a half ago, my daughter was introduced to
the soundtrack by one of her theater friends (a reminder how important it is
to make sure your kid hangs out with the right crowd).
Anyway, flash forward to now, and she’s singing, dancing and
rapping about the founding of our country and one of its chief architects.
Worse yet, she forced
me to start listening to the darn thing as prerequisite to writing this – I’ve gotten
through the first act, so far -- and now I’m hooked, as well. It’s amazing, on
so many bizarre levels. Genius, really. Who would’ve thought the subject I studied
in boring grad school classes had the makings of a Broadway classic. Not me,
for sure.
And now I’m learning random facts about Hamilton that I
never knew, or completely forgot.
For instance, I did not even recall that he and Aaron Burr
were actually friends going way back.
“They were quite
close. Their rift had to do with Alex’s belief that Burr was unprincipled and
an opportunist, and that’s what led to …”
Stop. Don’t give away a spoiler.
“I can’t spoil it,
dad. It’s actual history.”
Oh. Right.
Anyway. This is our latest obsession. And maybe sometime in
the not too distant future, we’ll feed this obsession with a trip to New York
and a visit to Broadway. If we can even get any tickets.
In the meantime, I’ve got a soundtrack to finish.
I wonder how it’s going to end?
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