No, the *other* great musical from the ’60s

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:

What I said: Opera.

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.

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