Outside, after the show, there’s snow on 6th Avenue: soap bubbles shoot over the sidewalk and street from above the famous neon marquee. Children and adults hold out their hands to catch the wet bits of white as they float down. One little girl collects enough of the faux-snow to build herself a white beard and slick down her hair. Surprise, delight, flit across people’s faces—only now, unlike in the darkened theater, it’s visible. Like all things to do with the Rockettes, it’s an effect produced by hard work, but with results that feel, and look, like magic.
“It’s Quiet Uptown” is one of the slower, more contemplative moments in Hamilton’s second act, when Alexander and Elizabeth Hamilton mourn their eldest son Philip, killed in a duel. “I spend hours in the garden,” Hamilton sings, “I walk alone to the store. And it’s quiet uptown, I never liked the quiet before.” The bucolic estate Hamilton described—he named it “the Grange,” after his ancestral Scottish home—still stands, though it’s a little less peaceful than it was in 1802.
What better marks the arrival of fall than everything pumpkin-flavored? Get ready for pumpkin cakes, pumpkin coffees, pumpkin kale (yes), pumpkin condoms (double yes) — but we know what you really want is a beer.
And a bonus story from last year (it’s still good!):
Where better to celebrate Halloween than Salem, Massachusetts? A town infamous for its witch trials—by 1693 they had executed 19 people and accused over 200—Salem has softened towards the subject of the supernatural in recent decades, reinventing itself as an epicenter for magic and its enthusiasts.