Yes, it really is that good

Ben Brantley opened his New York Times review of "Hamilton" three weeks ago with the words above. And you know what, he was absolutely right. It IS as good as just about everyone had said, whether they were talking about the off-Broadway version earlier this year at the Public Theatre, or the dazzling concoction I saw yesterday at the Richard Rogers Theatre.

I expected to love it, even though I had my fears: I am NOT a hip-hop kind of guy and rap makes me want to leave the room. Both of those genres had been used to describe the score and so I was worried. But virtually every word I read about the show was positive; surely not all those writers love hip-hop, I thought, so I decided I’d love it too. And I did.

The music is never off-putting – far from it; I'd use the words melodic and tuneful to describe it. The lyrics are as clever as Gilbert and Sullivan couplets – there’s even a shout-out to their Modern Major General. The cast is extraordinarily talented, from Daveed Diggs as both the Marquis de Lafayette and a wonderfully over-the-top Thomas Jefferson to Leslie Odom Jr. as a compelling and convincing Aaron Burr, to a personal favorite of mine, Jonathan Groff, as a hysterically funny and jaunty King George III.

Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote the book, the lyrics and the music – AND stars as Alexander Hamilton. You may not know that Hamilton was born a bastard in the West Indies and orphaned as a child before becoming an aide to George Washington, a defender of the Constitution and the first Secretary of the Treasury. We would be a far different nation without him.

That this Founding Father could be the subject of a big Broadway show with an urban sound is one of the magic tricks that Miranda performed in creating his must-see musical.

I’ll quote you below some of the insanely inventive lyrics; they’re from a live performance that Lin-Manuel Miranda did at the White House in 2009. What I heard yesterday was no doubt somewhat different, but you’ll get the measure of Miranda’s brilliance. The original cast album is not due until October; I am impatiently awaiting its release and may have to renege on my commitment to not buy music anymore.

Until then I will savor the feelings I had for almost three hours in New York yesterday. "Hamilton," at least at this close distance, is right up there with "Sweeney Todd" on my list of clever and creative musicals, and that’s mighty company to be in.

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How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore
And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot
In the Caribbean by Providence, impoverished, in squalor
Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?
The ten-dollar Founding Father without a father
Got a lot farther
By workin' a lot harder
By bein' a lot smarter
By bein' a self-starter
By fourteen they had placed him in charge of the trade and charter
And every day while slaves were being slaughtered
And carted away across the waves
Our Hamilton kept his guard up
Inside he was longing for something to be a part of
The brother was ready to beg steal borrow or barter
Then a hurricane came and
Devastation reigned and
Our man saw his future drip drippin' down the drain
Put a pencil to his temple
Connected it to his brain
And he wrote his first refrain
A testament to his pain
When the word got around, they said, "This kid is insane, man!"
Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland
Getcha education, don't forget from whence you came
And the world is gonna know your name!
What's your name, man?

Alexander Hamilton. His name is Alexander Hamilton
And there's a million things he hasn't done
But just you wait. Just you wait.

Happy Birthday, Cassie

Most of us now know that the popular wisdom we grew up with is wrong: a year in a dog's life is NOT the equivalent of seven human years. There's no one calculation that works for all dogs since there's a big difference among the four dog sizes (small, medium, large, giant). On top of that, dogs age at different rates at different times in their life: they age much faster when they're younger than when they're older.

By any standard though, 15 is a remarkable age for most dogs, so it is with great joy that today we celebrate that milestone with Cassie. She's not only the oldest dog in the family but she's still the Alpha, though Zack is clearly understudying the role.

I found versions of the chart below on several websites; each varied from the other but the numbers were fairly close. Cassie weights about 50 pounds so in human years she's roughly 83 to 93.

Our longest-living dog, Toby, "the best dog that ever was," lived to be sixteen. Here's hoping Cassie tops that record. The saddest thing about the chart below is that it doesn't go beyond sixteen. Some dogs do live longer, but not many. It would be a much better world if they all did.

And, just like with kids, I can't play favorites, so the other two demanded their pictures be included. All were taken today, sans professional lighting or skill.

Zeus, the middle child

Zack, the youngster

Powerful Old Man

I've always been a sucker for the Arthurian legends. I likely first encountered them in the Prince Valiant comic strip in the 50s, though it had nothing much to do with Camelot, only claiming to be “In the days of King Arthur.” I think I saw the Disney animated film, The Sword in the Stone, but I can't swear to that. I certainly saw and liked Excalibur, John Boorman’s 1981 film with Nicol Williamson and Helen Mirrin.

In college I read Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of England (Historia Regum Britanniae) as well as some of Malory’s famous account, Le Morte d’Arthur and Tennyson’s Idylls of the King. Later came Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and The Once and Future King, T. H. White’s easily digested pop rendition.

So it was with some sense of loss that last night I watched the last of the BBC’s five-year tale Merlin. It featured the sweetly pretty Bradley James as a young Arthur and the geeky but charming Colin Morgan as an even younger Merlin. Some of the 65 episodes were terrible, but mostly it was great fun. NOT high art for sure, but diverting and even a tad sexy what with an often-shirtless Arthur and a slightly homoerotic bond between the two leads.

As I said, this was the young Merlin. The image we mostly had in our minds before the BBC’s take was of an old man with long white hair and a long white beard -- the same image that Peter Jackson created for Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings movies (and movies and movies).

Powerful old man.

I have neither long hair nor a long beard but I am old and the other day I was called, for the first time to my knowledge, an old man.

I am a fierce defender of pedestrian rights and I regularly stare down drivers who threaten to drive through a crosswalk. I make them wait.

Now, I'm no fool, so I take into account the speed and proximity of the vehicle and I never start to cross unless I’ve locked eyes with the driver. Most stop, shamed into obeying the law. Some speed through, and I let them.

Last week, crossing Broadway on the edge of the Yale campus I stood on the curb as a late model coupe sped by way too fast for me to engage. Behind it though was an older sedan with two young men in it – twenty somethings I’d say. I stared them down, and they stopped.

As I traversed the crosswalk one of them called out, “Powerful old man!” He may have said more; maybe, “You're not so powerful, old man” or perhaps “Stupid, powerful old man. I don't know; I only heard the three words.

I liked the powerful part. The old man, not so much. But I'll take them both.

University of Texas Sharp-shooter Kills 14. Shooter Murders 32 at Virginia Tech. “Yale Gunman Kills 8”.

When Charles Whitman started shooting from the UT tower (right) in Austin, TX, on August 1, 1966, most of us would have never considered such a thing possible. It was shocking that someone would open fire on strangers, killing so many. By the time Seung-Hui Cho went on his rampage on the campus of Virginia Tech on April 16, 2007, we were all too used to this kind of story. The fact that the horror of Sandy Hook, CT, where 20-year-old Adam Lanza fatally shot 20 children and 6 adults, did nothing to change the culture of gun violence in this country shows how complicit we have become in this madness.

Today gun violence came as close to me as I would ever want it to. I took part in an emergency preparedness drill run by Yale’s Director of Emergency Management, Maria Lavandier Bouffard, and her hard working staff. The headline above should be labeled "This is only a drill."

I was a volunteer actor; in the morning I played the father of a Yale freshman; unable to reach my son after hearing the news, I drove up from New Jersey in a near-panic. Luckily for my character, the boy was found safe. Many more parents were not so fortunate. Eight families lost someone in the drill; many more were injured.

In the afternoon I played the brother of a Yale employee who was shot and taken to hospital where he was pronounced “critical but stable.” Another volunteer played my brother’s wife and she and I portrayed nervous, scared family members being informed and consoled by Yale staff.

The day was far more intense than I expected it to be. Even though I knew “this is only a drill,” the emotion welled up repeatedly. It’s the disturbing age we live in. Everything depicted today was entirely believable and all too real.

I am honored to have taken part and I applaud Yale’s initiative in running such a large scale drill – hundreds of people were involved – but I deplore the fact that it is necessary.

And I deplore the NRA for continuing to deny their culpability in the madness that is the gun culture of America in the twenty-first century. It is time to stand up to the NRA. It is time to outlaw the manufacture or sale of guns. It is time to repeal the second amendment.

Johannes, Wolfie and Sly

Years ago, when Ransom and I lived on the Upper West Side, I went several times to Shea Stadium for Mets games. I remember one particular day, I think it was a Saturday; I know it was a glorious sunny day and that the Mets won. I took the train back into Manhattan and went out that night to one of the other Mets – the Metropolitan Opera. I don’t remember that performance but I do recall wondering how many other people in the audience had been at the ballpark that afternoon.

Damn few, I'll wager. Maybe none.

I was reminded of that day last night while attending a Mostly Mozart Festival concert at Avery Fisher Hall. It was an evening of Bach, Mozart and Brahms. The night before I had attended a free outdoor concert in Hamden, CT; it was an evening of Sly, Family and Stone.

In point of fact it was a Family Stone concert; Sly no longer plays with them. We heard three of the original members of the group -- Cynthia Robinson (trumpet), Jerry Martino (sax) and Greg Errico (drums) -- with some new, and very talented, additions – including Phunne Stone, aka Raw Syl, Sly’s daughter. Like her, the band was funky and fun; I knew and loved every song, including Everyday People, Hot Fun in the Summertime, Sing a Simple Song and, of course, I Want to Take You Higher, among others.

The point is, you couldn't ask for more different music: Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 compared to Dance to the Music; Brahms Fourth Symphony versus Stand!

This time I wondered how many people at Fisher had been listening to (Sly and) the Family Stone the night before.

I take no credit for my catholic tastes; they're just part of me. My mother started me collecting rock and roll when she bought me a 45 of Elvis singing Love Me Tender. Living in Richmond, VA, exposed me to soul music as well as rhythm and blues and funk.

And where did my taste for classical music come from? Well, I’d credit my first boyfriend, Sandy, with jump-starting my interest. He studied piano and introduced me to pieces as varied as Scriabin’s piano preludes and Verdi’s Requiem. I thought of Sandy last night at the pre-concert mini recital when Orion Weiss played Brahms’ Klavierstücke, Op 118. This popular piece tickles lots of emotions; it is soothing and tender, passionate and lyrical – much like Sandy -- and Weiss played beautifully.

Of course the driving force behind my love of classical music is my husband. I've heard him conduct Brahms several times: the Academic Festival Overture, the Violin Concerto (Itzhak Perlman, soloist) and the first Serenade, among others. As the music director of the OK Mozart Festival for over twenty years he of course conducted lots of Mozart too, and I was there to enjoy plenty of it.

He and I share our love of classical music.

Brahms up above and Mozart to the right, yes. Sly, not so much.