[If you can't see the show, buy the soundtrack. You won't be sorry. And you'll actually understand this post.]
On the BART ride to the city last night to see the second best Broadway show ever, a woman was reading a book called Racism Explained to My Daughter. I thought of that during one of the songs in the musical. And during another song I thought of the people who were running runNING RUNNING to catch the train only to have the door slammed in their face, and the people who were running runNING RUNNING to catch the train only to have the train sit there for five minutes. And during another song I thought of David.
Actually, I thought of a lot of things during a lot of the songs. What a remarkably relevant (to me) piece of work. For now.
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And at last, I was validated: crabby old bitches are the bedrock of this nation!
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