My wife made a comment to me the other day that implied that maybe she thinks I’m addicted, or perhaps overly enthusiastically engaged with the extremely famous musical, Hamilton. Yes, that one.
I made some comment where I slyly—and aptly— worked in a quote from a song and when she didn’t know what I was talking about, she was like, “Is that Hamilton...again??” which she has said a few (many) times before. Why, I never. She was right, but that’s not the point.
What I will admit is that, since it hit Disney+ on July 3 and I was finally able to see it—I never got a chance to see it live anywhere—I’ve watched it...a lot. That doesn’t make me an addict. So what, I watch or listen to it, one, maybe two times a day doing any manner of work or putting together whatever, that makes me an addict now? Pshaw. Shucks, I haven’t even written about it yet—at least not in the traditional sense. But my honor is on the line here.
Here are 10 things I do that make my wife think I’m addicted to Hamilton though I think I’m just expressing my enjoyment at the high entertainment value. What do you think?
1. I add “...and Peggy” when folks list names of people (and they don’t say “...and Peggy”).
I mean, who doesn’t do this? Isn’t life always better when niggas named Peggy are part of the conversation? This is of course in reference to Peggy Schuyler, one of the coveted Schuyler Sisters: Angelica, Eliza...and Peggy.
2. I probably sing “Dear Theodosia” 10-15 times around my wife over the course of the day.
To be fair, Leslie Odom, Jr. KILLS this song. And really I just sing the same part to her, “...my father wasn’t around (my father wasn’t around)....” Now, my father WAS in fact around, so there’s no personal connection; it just sounds beautiful so I sing it to my wife so she can catch some of this beauty.
3. Like everybody else who has seen this joint, I like to point out that I, too, would like to be in the room where it happened whenever apt.
I mean, who wouldn’t? I’d be mad as hell if I wasn’t in the room and somebody moved the nation’s capital from New York City to Washington, D.C.
4. I randomly catch myself saying, “John Adams” with a sneer and disgust.
Look, the King’s moments were so awesome they’ve influenced my thinking. I literally don’t know jack shit about President John Adams except he was the 2nd president and had a son (or nephew? I should look this up) who would become the 4th president named John Quincy Adams. But because of the King, I feel like John Adams was probably wacksauce.
5. I haven’t had the chance to do it yet, but I plan on singing, “you ain’t neva gon’ be President now…” as soon as one of my boys does something untoward.
6. I may or may not have stepped into a room and sang, “Alexander Hamilton, my name is Alexander Hamilton” in the past 5 minutes (no matter when this publishes).
I can neither confirm nor deny if this has happened (a few times).
7. I sing “It must be nice, it must be niiiiiiice to have Washington on your side…” pretty much all day long.
In my head, it’s Denzel not George, but it’s probably nice—decade-dependent—to have either on your side.
8. I have turned one of my sons, who is 5, onto Hamilton and he has now taken to trying to watch it on his iPad by himself (I stop him, there is language after all).
9. I have looked up and listened to all projects by Leslie Odom, Jr. who has become one of my favorite artists period, along with anybody with singing parts in the show.
10. If I have to put something together—literally anything from bologna sandwiches to IKEA or Wayfair furniture—I will watch Hamilton on a loop until I’m finished.
That’s not addicted, right? Helpless maybe, maybe never satisfied, but not addicted, right?
DISCUSSION
I was running earlier this week and “Yorktown” came on (I have it and “Wait for It” on a couple of my workout playlists) and I started smiling and picked up my place. I also said “HERCULES MULLIGAN!” out loud at that part because I love that part.