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Fourteen Year Old Me is REALLY BUMMED 

It’s taken me 5 days to admit that I’m disappointed. Most people can admit this right away but I think I’ve been trying to pretend it’s just as awesome as I hoped it would be. Because usually, even if something wasn’t my favorite, I can often find a gold nugget of awesome that tips the scale into the positive. But this time I can’t! And it’s bumming be out, man! But…

I didn’t love the Broadway version of Newsies.

Sigh.

It hurts me to type that.

Fourteen year old Jill just ran to her room and cried.

***

You (probably) now realize why I’ve wondered how Sarah and I had any friends growing up. Miraculously, we seemed to draw from a well of equally (okay, maybe not EQUALLY) nerdy, but adorable, friends. Maybe we were just “cool enough” to not get thrown into dumpsters, but make no mistake: we were insufferable dorks.

One could argue that we still are.

(I could. I could argue that we still are.) (In fact, I shall. Someday. Not today.)

In all my memories, we were usually singing. Singing along to the radio in the car…singing in church…singing in talent shows or one very specific church-production musical, or in my living room, we were singing.

Note: it would be helpful if you would read that last sentence like Forest Gump. But instead of “I was running” replace that with “I was singing” just like he would say it because that’s how it sounded when I typed it.

Moving on.

Singing was just a part of life. Like talking or breathing, singing was just how we functioned. And 14/15 year old Jill and Sarah sang A LOT of Les Miserables and a SHIT TON of Newsies.

There were part assignments. There was harmonizing. There was singing on the top of our lungs because we FELT the music! As little as we knew about being miserable French, I suppose you could say we knew even less about being orphaned newsboys in the late 1800’s. Probably.

But that didn’t stop us from singing our annoying little hearts out. We seized that day…we carried that damn banner. With gusto. We even fell a little in love with all those dudes (some more than others) and so it all became…personal.

And since it was so very personal, I probably had the highest of high expectations when we found out there would be a Broadway musical. And, speaking for myself only, I’m afraid that 14yo Jill had UNREASONABLE expectations heading into the show. Even though 30-something year old Jill (I think I’m 37?) knew better.

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To be honest, after waiting FOUR YEARS of wishing, waiting and hoping, finally seeing it on stage was so, so, so good! I really did like it so much! But that really REALLY annoying 14yo Jill never really shut up or let go of those stupid expectations. Even if 37yo Jill really did love it, 14 yo Jill was super ‘meh’ about most of it.

Yes, I should probably get my inner 14yo to shut the hell up, but…

I guess I was just surprised that it still really mattered.

***

For reasons I can’t explain, I don’t seem to own Newsies. But by the powers of the interwebs, I rented and watched the original movie in all of its original glory yesterday (and today) and I will probably watch it again tomorrow. I have zero things to say for myself except…well, I enjoyed EVERY SECOND of that movie. I was reminded how much I loved David and Snoddy. How much my sister loved Spot Collins. I remembered MY part in the 3-part harmony of Seize the Day and I almost sang it out loud in front of all the strangers around me as I watched!

 

via GIPHY

Next time. I’ll do that next time.

More than that, I’m actually hopeful that I’ll have the chance to see Newsies on the stage again. Because the next generation is REALLY digging this version it would seem.

Apparently he smelled AMAZING. Just so you know.

Apparently he smelled AMAZING. Just so you know.

 

I can handle that.
    

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