Tonight Chris and I are flipping between the NBA finals and the Tony’s. I like that we are diverse in our interests. Granted, I had to ask Chris if we were for the blue team or the white team. I never watch NBA basketball. All I really know is that we hate Lebron James. I didn’t hate him until that stupid “Decision” business—the most disgusting display of hubris EVER. (I stuck the word “hubris” in there for you, former students, if you are still reading this. Look it up if you don’t already know it. That’s right. I’m not out of teaching mode yet. Give me another week.) Anyway, Dallas is blue, so we are for the blue team. I can’t believe I’m pulling for a Dallas team. Yeesh.
Our other viewing selection, the Tony Awards, has been incredibly funny. The opening number taught me that Broadway’s not just for “the gays.” Thanks, Neil Patrick Harris, for that bit of hilarity. I’ve loved you since your Doogie Howser days, and I haven’t stopped. Then I discovered that if I don’t get to see The Book of Mormon soon, I may die. Must. See. It. Now.
Tonight’s not the only time Chris and I have demonstrated our range of interests. In April, we watched the NFL draft (something I was actually interested in) on a Thursday night, and then we went to the ballet on Sunday. The ballet, believe it or not, was Chris’s idea. I must remember that when he annoys me by spending WAY too much time in the yard. Who else would watch football AND go see musicals with me? Not many people, I’d say.
The Book of Mormon is hilarious. I’ve read the script online. But Neil Patrick Harris is my favorite. Of all time. No contest. You should see it (TBOM) immediately.