Friday, March 4, 2016

Making Me Happy, 3/4/16

Happiness Friday!

If I'm not careful, these posts could turn into a broken record of "Susanna loves Hamilton and Sleepy Hollow." But Sleepy Hollow has really hit its stride, not quite to Season 1 levels of awesomeness but solidly entertaining, ever since it came back from its midseason hiatus. If you've ever been a fan or are thinking of trying it, you should watch to improve its chances of getting renewed for Season 4.

And this song from Hamilton, wherein Hamilton helps Washington prepare his farewell address, has been much on my mind as we move through the election process. (Something which is NOT making me happy. I don't think I've ever been as scared by my own country before. People! Please. Vote courage. Vote compassion. Vote civil liberties. Vote for a generous, open-hearted, open-minded America. History has its eyes on us.)

This particular performance is at the 2015 George Washington Prize Dinner at the Gilder Lehrman Institute, hence the modern suits instead of colonial costumes:

"One Last Time" from the musical Hamilton from The Gilder Lehrman Institute on Vimeo.

And, fanfic being fanfic, because both of these obsessions of mine are rooted in the American Revolution, someone wrote a crossover. (Actually, several someones.) As an added bonus, it's quite well-done: Don't Be Shocked When Your Hist'ry Book Mentions Me. Basically, Crane and Abbie follow a lead that takes them to a crypt under Trinity Church in Manhattan, where they find Hamilton--the real historical one--in a state of suspended animation similar to what allowed Crane himself to come back to life in the 21st century. The newly revived Hamilton steps into modern Manhattan a couple months into the musical's run, leading to this gem of an exchange toward the end of the first installment:
“I scarcely recognize it,” said Hamilton, looking up and down the street at the changed face of the city. Grief settled over his features, once again. “What sort of place could I have, in such a world?”
A bus came to a stop just past them, pulling up to the corner. It had Hamilton’s face plastered over its side, near ten feet tall, with his name in letters half as big.
“What on earth,” Hamilton said, staring.
“Apparently there’s a play? A new one. On Broadway,” said Abbie.
“I want to see it,” Hamilton said immediately.
Abbie pulled out her phone, and after a minute’s tapping her eyebrows went up. “It’s sold out,” she said.
“The next performance, then,” said Hamilton.
“It’s sold out until May,” said Abbie.
“Ha!” said Hamilton. For the first time he looked a little less distressed. “I don’t suppose Madison could sell out a play for so long.”

There! Next week I have to think of something to be happy about other than Sleepy Hollow and Hamilton. Maybe. I hope.

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