Last night, I went with a best pal to see Wicked in it’s current touring run at Blumenthal PAC in Charlotte. It was the first of three days this week I’ll be sitting in those seats, doing my best to keep from belting screeching out every word of every song loud enough to drown out the orchestra.
I was lucky. The first time I saw Wicked was on Broadway with Stephanie J. Block (@StephanieJBlock) as Elphaba. (And before she pipes up, yes, RainJelly, I know you saw Kristen Chenoweth (@KChenoweth) and Idina Menzel (@IdinaMenzel) in the Original Broadway Cast. Shut it.) It was 2007, and we were on a family trip to NYC. My brother and his fam, my sister and hers, my steps – all of us decided to go see this show we’d heard was a must-see. I’d seen a clip of it on Today a bit before, so it’s possible I was a bit more insistent than anyone else.
From Elphaba’s final note in “The Wizard and I,” I was hooked. By the end of the show, when my niece and I were poking each other and chuckling at my poor nephew (who was, what, 9? 10?) who was SOBBING (it was sweet!), I was absolutely in LOVE.
New York, Atlanta, Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte. Last night was my 7th time seeing it.
Hi, my name is Seuss, and I’m a Wicked addict.
There. I said it. Now that we have that out in the open, I must say the best part of seeing Wicked three times this week? Every time, I get to take someone who has never seen it before. And while this isn’t the best cast I’ve ever seen by a long shot, YAY ME!
See, there’s something about Wicked that resonates me. I’m sure it’s the same thing that resonates with so many others. It’s a story of two people whose paths cross. They butt heads. They help each other. They decide to go their separate ways. Yet they leave an indelible mark on each other.
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better, but, because I knew you, I have been changed for good.
That line, that song, the chord it strikes. At one point, in that not-so-subtle-but-not-too-ostentatious Broadway manner, the conjunction is changed from but to and, the import simultaneously title-casing the last two words of the song. You haven’t just changed me forever, you’ve changed me For Good. You’ve made me better.
We all have those people in our lives – both types. Some have merely (or perhaps merely isn’t the right word) changed us forever. Others have changed us for the better.
For me, there was the one big but: a teacher who forever altered the way I trust, who manipulated my self-worth, tore down my identity. I adored her at the time, but as time passed, the scars reddened and turned keloid, deepened, and were completely unignorable. She was definitely a but. One or two ‘t’s. Your pick.
But I’ve been lucky. There have been so many more ands.
There was a group I became friends with in college, an assorted, varied group of generally-well-behaved misfits. We loved each other, we hated each other, we were wonderful and horrible to each other. That whole group taught me the value of authenticity. They taught me by over-exposure that drama simply isn’t worth it. They set me on the path of rebuilding from The But(t).
There’s the high school friend who called me “Hitler” when we first met in the theatre (I don’t care what she says, that’s how it was, and it makes for a good story, so pipe down, Sabes), who was by my side through my dealings with The But(t). Our up and down journey is worthy of its own book or seven, but the lessons she has taught me about strength and courage and diversity and dealing with it all, those especially…you have no idea.
But there was one friend in particular who came to mind the first time I saw Wicked. On our own twisty yellow-brick road, we clung to each other, fought with each other, vehemently defended each other, then came to a falling out so momentous that we both had to put more than physical distance between ourselves. We had to put distance from our friendship – years of distance – to really see the value of it all. To see the beautiful patterns of the indelible marks we left on each other. Despite all the hell we went through, all the hell we put each other through, we did change each other for the better. And we changed each other for good.
Every time I see Wicked, I see something new. Every time I go, I’m reminded of another memory. It’s just an emotionally satisfying, brilliant show on so many levels. I (obviously) cannot get enough. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I must go run errands. Head’s up, folks in the ‘hood: That bouncing hip hop bass accompanied by owl-like screeching as I reach for the high notes will be me defying eardrums and gravity simultaneously.
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I totally couldn’t work it into the entry, but if you’ve seen Wicked or if you’re a KChen fan, you MUST watch this bootleg of Kristen Chenoweth’s last “Popular,” in which she ad-libs. A lot. Hee!
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