When I was in college, here in New York City, I discovered Kander and Ebb when I bought a ticket to stand in the back of the theater to see Alan Cumming and Natasha Richardson (she should rest in peace) in Cabaret.
Last week, M and I went back to the Roundabout Theater, which had one again be turned into the Kit Kat Club, to see Alan Cumming reprise his role as the Emcee. This time I got to sit at a table in the front.

The theater was packed, and from what I could see, the only empty seats in the house were at our little table.
During the first half of the show, Alan Cumming, in character, walked through the crowd and sat himself right next to me.
He turned to me and smiled. I responded with what may have the world’s goofiest, giddiest grin.
The man is truly remarkable. I’m quite certain he’s over 50. The role is grueling. He spends most of the evening wearing next to nothing, if anything at all. And he killed it. He was so damn remarkable, that I’d go back again, and still drink what may have been the world’s worst gin and tonic (ok, two of them) just to see him.
I know the bar is low. I know that spending the evening out of the presence of children is enough to earn rave reviews. Really, I know it. I know that M and I could be sitting in the back of a burned out bus eating corn from the can, and I’d be jubilant. But talent on this scale is really something to behold, even if you are not a show tune nerd. New Yorkers, if you haven’t seen it, you should.