Sometimes I forget, amid all the talk of how enriching and moving and thought-provoking the arts are supposed to be, that the arts are really all about entertainment. I don't know if "Spamalot" counts as "arts," exactly, what with all the fart jokes and general buffoonery, but I do know that last night's performance at the Opera House sure put my husband in a better mood.
He was distracted and grouchy at the beginning of the Monty Python-based show, but after a few chuckles at the singing, bumbling knights onstage, and a joyous showering of confetti at the end, his good nature was restored.
So thanks, "Spamalot," without you it might have been a long night.
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