Big Girls Don’t Cry on the London Stage

What do I know?  I grew up on a farm in NJ.  The closest I ever got to a Broadway musical (aside from those shows at the Flemington–or was it Lambertville–circular theater) was, as a child,  falling asleep to the strains of Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma, Peter Pan, and whatever other records my father brought from  the NYPL.

Although I earned two degrees in the Big Apple, I never did get to a Broadway show….
When we were recently in London though, my husband, who grew up singing and dancing through the 60s in Chicago, took me to JERSEY BOYS– something, as a flute student at Juilliard, that had passed me by unawares.
No one goes to London without seeing a show. So we went.

Turns out that some of Franki Valli’s  songs had filtered in somehow  between my scales and arpeggios: Big Girls Don’t Cry and She-e-e-r-i Ba-a-a-by and Oh What  a Night…

Oh what a night!

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