saigon thoughts

i've been pondering elements of the show that i'm working on, miss saigon. i think what i'm coming to appreciate is the dichotomy of simplicity and depth.
there is a simple love story,
but it has a little complication
and there are barriers
and every person is a human--that is, there aren't really any stereotypes and you can sense the depth and humanity in even the minor characters/chorus members.
there are conflicts based on religion, socio-economic status, patriotism, nationalism, racism, governmental bureaucracy, morality, drug abuse, multi-culturalism. oh, and don't forget love in it's various and wondrous forms.
as some of you know, i have a bad habit of telling too much of a story instead of letting you come to see it with a clean slate. so, i'll stop talking about the specifics of the show.
i'll just say again that i'm gaining greater appreciation for the dichotomy of simplicity and depth within the characters, the music and the show as a whole.

tickets on sale soon.

irony

as i'm getting steeped in rehearsals for miss saigon, a memory came back to me. i'd mostly forgotten about it, but it's fun and i wanted to write about how small the world is afterall.

the first (and only) time i saw a production of miss saigon was when i was in college. i had the hugest crush on a certain girl (name withheld for her privacy) and we shared a love for music theater. so, on a very expensive limb, i went out and got tickets for MS and invited her as my date. she agreed, though i think mostly because of the show, not me.
we had a great time and enjoyed the show. we didn't go out again and that's ok, too. we stayed friends until i graduated; after that, we lost touch.
well, fast forward many years--for one of our anniversaries, rhonda and i went to see a production of r&h's cinderella. we were having a great evening, enjoying the performances of deborah gibson (aka debbie gibson) and ertha kitt.
during intermission, i was chatting with rhonda about some of the previous shows i had seen in that theater, one of which was miss saigon. i told her the story of the girl on which i had a crush and we had a laugh about the way life goes on in directions different than we often imagine.
about that time i hear a timid voice ask, "jared?" i turned to the seats on my left and who should i see but crushy-girl and her husband. she remembered the production (and the evening) as well as i did and agreed that life goes in different ways.
but, i have to say after all these years:

• to crushy-girl--thanks for a lovely evening, but i'm happy with the way things turned out
• to rhonda--i love you so much and am quite thankful that my future includes you and not crushy-girl
• to miss saigon--i love you, though not as much as i love my wife, and i'm really glad to get to be a apart of lsc's amazing production