I wasn’t going to buy the tickets. The minute I found out that the musical Hamilton was coming to L.A., I jumped online to buy tickets. And then I saw the price and I immediately jumped off.
It’s no secret that the price of Hamilton tickets, be it in New York or now Los Angeles, has been crazy high. I’m not sure what I expected to find. It wasn’t like I was going to find them listed for 50 bucks a piece. I knew better. But I was hopeful nonetheless and was surprisingly disappointed when I saw the reality of what I knew the ticket prices would be.
I put seeing Hamilton out of my mind. Talked myself out of wanting to go. Being overly reasonable, as I have been known to be, I listed many reasons why we didn’t need to spend all of that money. There’s always–always–something more important to spend the money on. Yes, we didn’t need to see a musical that badly. Sure, it’s been touted as one of the best of all time. Sure, people have raved and raved and raved about how amazing it is. Sure, it’s won 11 Tonys and a Grammy and even a Pulitzer. Don’t need to see it even though it’s now playing right here where I live. 30 minutes away. No, I’m good.
Then I made the mistake of opening the Sunday paper.
On this particular Sunday, the L.A. Times Arts and Culture section was about Hamilton and only Hamilton. I read the entire section cover to cover. Then I set the paper down and immediately picked up my phone to look for tickets. Again.
“Didn’t you already do that to yourself,” my husband asked.
“Yes, yes I did. But I just need to look. Maybe tickets have gone down now that it’s closer to opening night.”
I laughed. He laughed too.
Then my husband said, “Why don’t we just go. Just you and I. Let’s not worry about taking the boys. They won’t appreciate it for the price. Let’s just go. Just us.”
See why I love him? I love him for lots and lots of reasons, but in these moments I love him a WHOLE lot.
We bit the bullet and bought tickets. I’m not gonna lie. Paying a lot of money to see anyone do anything feels crazy if you think about it too hard. So I didn’t. I didn’t let myself think about it because if I did I would be filled with regret. Regret that we should have spent that money on something more important or done something crazy with it, like, I don’t know…SAVE IT!
So I didn’t think about it. I let myself be excited. I let myself enjoy that we were getting to go see one of the greatest shows of all time. And guess what? It was probably the greatest show I’ve ever seen. No, not probably. It was the greatest show I’ve ever seen. I’m not even going to attempt to describe just how great it is. But as a huge fan of American history, having passionately taught about the American Revolution, this show made me giddy. Our seats were fantastic and due to my nerdy giddiness and anxious anticipation, from the opening number I felt like crying. (I inherited the “tears of happiness” gene from my mother.) I cheered and clapped and cheered and clapped throughout the whole thing. It was crazy good. Crazy. Good.
So what’s the lesson in all of this? Why am I sharing this story? It is to tell you this: Buy the tickets. Buy the tickets, friends. Maybe it’s not to Hamilton. Maybe it’s to a U2 concert or Sting or Cold Play or whatever artist or shows you’re dying to see. Maybe it’s a trip you’ve been wanting to take but keep talking yourself out of, or a fancy dinner out that feels unnecessary. Listen to me: Buy the ticket.
Maybe it feels indulgent. Selfish. It’s not. Buy the ticket.
Stop worrying about being reasonable. Sensible. Being sensible all of the time is no fun. I know because I’m always the reasonable, sensible one. Buy the ticket.
Don’t miss out on the experience. Participate in the excitement when you can. Don’t regret the opportunity to be in the middle of where the action is. Buy the ticket. Don’t throw away your shot.