I don’t remember how it got started, but during dinner tonight Nana suddenly blurted out that she didn’t like musicals, except for that really great one from the ’60s.
- Me:
- Hair
- Nana:
- No
- Me:
- Jesus Christ Superstar
- Nana:
- No!
After a few tries, she hit on it.
- Nana:
- Cabaret!
- Me:
- Yeah, that’s a good ‘un.
(Yes, I know. I know!)
Then she tried to remember the other musical she liked.
- Nana:
- You know, the other great musical from the ’60s!
- Me:
- Hmm … West Side Story?
- Nana (scornfully):
- No!
Wow. Sixties. OK, challenge accepted.
- Me:
- Cats? (I know this is not from the ’60s, OK?)
- Nana:
- No! I hate Cats!
- Me:
- They’re actually not bad, fricasseed with a little soy sauce … Sixties? Got it! Fiddler on the Roof!
- Nana:
- Nooooo!
- Me (sings):
- A fiddler on the roof/A most unlikely sight/He fiddles ev’ry day/He fiddles ev’ry night …
- Nana:
- No!
- Me:
- South Pacific. Mikado.
Yes, at this point I’m just fuckin’ with her. … Meanwhile, she’s checking the closet for CDs of the soundtrack.
- Me:
- That one about the dancers. One/Singular sensation/la da di da da di da …
- Nana:
- Huh-uh
- Me:
- A Chorus Line
- Nana:
- No, I said!
- Me
- (gives up) …
- Nana:
- I got it! Carmen!
- Me (scornfully):
- That’s opera, not a musical.
- Nana:
- A musical!
- Me:
- Read my lips: オ。ペ。ラ。
OK, I’m not Mr. Broadway. Could be … what do I know? She goes out to the balcony to indulge her tobacco fetish.
- Nana (opening the sliding glass door):
- You’re right. Opera.
- Me:
- Where did you see it? The Met?
- Nana:
- Yeah, it was the Met.
- Me:
- Nana:
- Because I got the tickets from Norman.
- Me:
- That’s right. He was with the Met.
- Nana:
- Yeah. Opera. He used to work for the Met.
- Me:
- Heard from him lately?
- Nana:
- Only pictures from our friends on facebook.
- Me:
- Carmen. The other great musical from the ’60s.
What I said: Opera.