The Music Ignites the Night

"Rent," RENT Soundtrack

"What are you doing this Saturday?" said my dad over the phone last Wednesday, rain pattering dully outside.
My internal movie projector silently propelled itself into the future, where I envisioned myself wrapped in old grey sweats and a Snuggie on the couch, drinking a glass of cheap chardonnay, and (unsuccessfully) trying to convince Tim why he might actually really like this Lifetime movie.
"Uh...nothing. No plans."
"Good. Great. Wanna come to Sacramento?"
"What?"
"Sacramento."
"What for?"
"It's a surprise. I'll get you a plane ticket. You can leave Saturday morning, and I'll fly you back down on Sunday morning."
"Um, okay!"

So I flew to Sacramento last Saturday. After a quick hour spent pursuing the latest Us magazine and listening to Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix on repeat, I arrived in our state's capital. Jen had driven in from San Francisco and picked me up at the airport, and we were off to my dad's Woodland house. Once there, my dad wanted to give us the "grand tour." While small, the house is perfect for him (especially considering he spends so little time there). It's a three-bedroom cottage, although only one of the rooms is actually set-up for sleeping. You know, in a bed. The first bedroom was completely bare save for a plush armchair and footrest, perhaps from the Hoover administration.
"This is the sitting room," said my dad with a smile.
We continued on through the rest of the house, finally reaching the kitchen and a connecting door.
"This is the best part," said my dad, hovering above the connecting door's first step. "It's the wine cellar. Best part of the whole house."
"I didn't know you had a wine cellar!" I said, surprised I hadn't heard of this room before. We crept slowly down the dark and cobweb-encrusted stairs, each loose board creaking under our feet. "I feel like I'm walking into a Poe story," I said uneasily, heading further into the obscure darkness. Suddenly, a giant sheet-covered figure leapt from the depths of the blackened room, roaring loudly and rushing towards Jen and me. We both screamed in fright, and my brother pulled the sheet off of his head gleefully, laughing hysterically.
"Surprise!"
It took a few minutes for me to regain my composure. I had no idea Paul was going to be in Sacramento, and so naturally I figured this was the surprise my dad had boasted of earlier in the week.

We went to dinner at a great barbeque place around the corner from my dad's house, where of course Jen and I wore the extra cowboy hats we found lying haphazardly in the backseat of my dad's Tundra.

 

Afterwards, we headed downtown. We stopped by my dad's office, and then started walking down the street. 

"Where are we going?" I asked impatiently.

"You'll see."

"I looked up Arco Arena, but nobody's playing there."

"The Kings play there."

"But not tonight. Plus, I know you wouldn't take us to a Kings game," I said. He didn't answer, because he knew I was right. We continued walking, and suddenly we were at the Convention Center, where we turned in. We were inside the building before we were able to catch a glimpse of what was actually happening there. Surprisingly, no outdoor marquee was broadcasting the production. Beyond the box office and the front doors, a RENT poster hung invitingly on the wall, and my heart pounded.

"It's RENT!" my dad said, beaming. He held the tickets out to us.

We squealed. Hugged. Exchanged elated smiles and thanked my dad profusely.

"AND!" he added, barely able to contain his smile, "It's with the guys from the original Broadway show. The guys from the movie!"

"Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal?" we squeaked, our anticipation growing. My heart beat faster as I realized the two hours ready to unfold in front of me. Because the stars had aligned; because the gods were on my side; because I have an incredible father; because sometimes I am just really lucky, I was about to hear Adam Pascal's Roger belt "One Song Glory" again. I was going to witness Anthony Rapp's Mark lead a what-was-sure-to-be phenomenal ensemble charge "La Vie Boheme." I was going to fall in love all over again with Jonathan Larson's nearly-flawless script, melodies, lyrics, and message.

And of course, because RENT is as important to my life as Splenda and the ocean and oxygen, it was magic. I saw this performance less than a year ago, and yet I could see it once a week and have the same reaction every time. I still get anxious butterflies when the house lights go down. I still feel a surge of excitement and empowerment when Mark clearly announces, "December 24th, 9 PM." I still catch myself holding my breath when Roger effortlessly begins strumming the notes for "Your Eyes." Beautiful, poetic, heart-breaking, eye-opening, candid, and unparalleled, this play changed my life. Ten years ago. A year ago. Last week. And, I'm pretty sure it will continue to do so...

 

 

 

 It's time now, to sing out

Though the story never ends

Let's celebrate

Remember a year

In the life of friends