Typical.

Friday night I went to see HAIR with two of my friends. While I knew most of the music from the show, (cue Let the Sun Shine In playing on a continuous loop in my brain the minute the show is mentioned...) but I'd never seen a performance of the musical. Over pre-theater dinner and drinks, my friends and I were talking about the show, its recent Broadway revival and the famous nude scene.

Just before 8pm, my friends and I made our way to The Colonial Theater, found our seats and settled in for a evening of free love, blatant references to sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll, and a lot of dancing hippies. I was sitting on the isle, watching the lead male, Claude sing "Where Do I Go" near the end of the first act. I sat there, head in my hand, thoughtfully enraptured in his song. "Yes," I thought, "where does he go to? In fact, where do we all go to? What is the meaning of it all?" I pondered in typical deep-thought Kelli fashion. I didn't take my eyes off Claude once, even though the rest of the cast was on stage with him. In fact, it wasn't until he sang the last note of the song that I looked to the rest of the stage. I glimpsed a naked man walking off stage left and suddenly realized THAT had been the nude scene.

The lights came up for intermission and my friends turned to me.

"I missed the nude scene!" I exclaimed. "I was so focused on Claude and his "journey" that I completely missed the entire cast shedding their clothes!" I shook my head in dismay.

Ahh well. Nude scenes on stage I may miss, but no one can ever fault me for not reading between the lines and always searching for a deeper meaning.

Sigh.

Tit for tat, really.