The Lion King

I don't go to live theater very often so when I do it's a big deal. A big emotional deal. Mr. C. is not a fan of such entertainment. This afternoon I treated myself to "The Lion King." I thought I knew what to expect, but was completely overwhelmed when the lights went down, the curtain went up, and the music began. What appeared before me was magic; singing, dancing, costumes, lighting, strange animals, melodious languages (sounded like Xhosa and Swahili). The energy poured off the stage. My seat was transformed into a rocket that took me into another world conceived and brought to life by the fevered imaginations of Tim Rice and Elton John. I went willingly, joyously. I had a great view, made even better by the fact that the two patrons in front didn't show up (it was advertised as "SOLD OUT") so no tall gents (or ladies) with big hats to obscure the action on the stage. I laughed, I cried, I cheered. I left humming and happy.

Next to me was a little girl of perhaps 8 or so. Just as the show got underway she said to her Mom in a worried voice, "This isn't real, right Mom?" Well, yes and no.