A few stray thoughts on Hamilton

I’m not sure if I’m late to this Hamilton party or not, but I don’t care. I’ll party by myself with Hamilton, dancing to confusingly historical ballads about the first treasury secretary all alone, surrounded by slightly deflated balloons. I’m afraid of balloons and will never blow them up fully. It’s going to be a weird party.

Anyway, lame parties aside, Hamilton is FREAKING. AMAZING. It’s one of those weird things where, the more I listen to it and learn about it and obsessively read about it online, the more I want to immerse myself in it. Drown myself in it. Shout it from the rooftops. “HEY HAVE YOU HEARD THIS?” I’ll yell at my entire city. The city will respond with nothing, because it’s uncaring and unfeeling, just like that dirty Aaron Burr. You killed him and we all know it now, Burr. But somehow we still love you, because you’re flawed and human and you loved your daughter and you know what I should probably just go listen to the whole Original Cast Recording again because it’s probably time for another listen.

Here are a few random thoughts I’ve had about this Lin-Manuel Miranda miracle:

  • If I’d had this sort of engaging medium when I was still in school, I would have done amazing on my history tests. Assuming the tests were only on Alexander Hamilton. Just kidding! I’ve learned so much about the entire Revolutionary War, way more than I’d ever actually learned in school. Hamilton made history seem like a real thing that happened, as opposed to a dry set of facts that I absolutely never fully learned as a child. And by child, I mean 20-year-old college student.
  • Lin-Manuel Miranda is a talented genius. Watching interviews with him, and just seeing his insight and positivity and talent and dedication makes me want to be a better person, a better writer, a better Tony award winning Broadway musician. Well, that last one might be specific to him, but whatever, I’m feeling his whole vibe. He thought one day, “hey, this old dead guy was pretty cool, let me just follow my bliss and write fun raps about his colonial dopeness” and he did and it’s awesome.
  • I don’t like musicals that much. I definitely don’t like plays. Well, that was, until this. I think Hamilton encouraged me to expand my horizons and challenge what I assume I will and won’t like.
  • Speaking of which, I certainly don’t love musicals that I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN. As of this moment, there is no way for me to see the play without spending several thousand dollars on transportation and tickets. Plus I’d need a time machine to travel to a point several months in the future when the tickets aren’t sold out. Yet, for some reason, I’m inexplicably obsessed with the music and choreography and cast and beautiful costumes and the playbill I don’t have. What.
  • I forget that I can be kind of pushy when I like something. I’ve pretty much hounded everyone I know to LISTEN TO IT PLEASE IT’S JUST LIKE 4 HOURS AND YOU’LL LOVE IT IT’LL BE WORTH IT PLEASE. Just get in my car. We’ll go for a drive. Oh, what’s that? Hamilton is playing and now we’re driving and you can’t get away unless you barrel roll out of this fast moving vehicle? Yikes, you should probably just fasten your seatbelt and open your heart.

Is anybody else in their own permanent private 18th century, weak-ballooned dance party?


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