30 till 30: Day 2

I was obsessed with musicals when I was a kid. My Fair Lady, South Pacific, A Chorus Line, Oklahoma, Bye-Bye Birdie...I'd listen to nothing else.

My family sat through epic performances by the children's theater company I joined. They patiently watched me play Elsa in The Sound of Music, the Artful Dodger in Oliver, a pregnant hooker in Kurt Vonnegut's God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater. All the standard roles.

In college, musicals started to annoy me. Since then, I haven't been able to listen to one without wincing. Except for a few nostalgic favorites—see above—I don't have the patience to sit through that kind of show today.

Unless it's free. Last night, I took advantage of some press passes and went to see Hairspray at the elegant Orpheum Theater. And I have to admit, it was kind of awesome.

The lights! The songs! The costumes! The hair! All around us, delighted schoolgirls and flammable men applauded and whistled and danced in their seats. So now I'm not afraid to say: Every decade or so, bring on a good musical. I'm in.