Smash Recap: So, About That Bollywood Number

Someone, I’m not sure who, said it’s not so much that you change when you get famous, it’s that the people around you change. Much in the same vein, it’s a fact universally acknowledged that it’s not always such a good idea to meet your heroes.

True, it sometimes happens, when the circumstances are right and you have arrived at that delicate balance of meds that Judy Garland spent a lifetime trying to achieve, that you have with your idol a soul-changing conversation during which you realize that the reason you’ve loved them since that owlish, eczema-plagued period (known to some as early adolescence) is because they are truly your artistic soul mate, the only person capable of understanding a sensitive soul like yourself. More likely — and I may or not be speaking from personal experience here — you end up on the wrong side of 30, quivering and selectively mute in the heavily guarded anteroom of Pee-Wee Herman’s Broadway dressing chamber, as the great man himself leans in, so close you can breathe in the powdery scent of improperly applied rouge impregnating his red bow tie, and in the voice of a kindly department store Santa says: "And what’s your name, little girl?" Read More...


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