Thank you Mr. Sondheim, Week 31 in the Time of Transition

I was working at Strawbridge and Clothier in the Men’s shoe department. This was a branch in the Echelon Mall in Voorhees, NJ, a short commute to Philadelphia. I was a student at Rutger’s University in Camden, still a theater major, though I would finish with a degree in English. Paul Puccio, an English major at another college, who worked in Men’s Furnishings, introduced me to the music of Stephen Sondheim. I was 18 years old. He was enamored with Follies and Alexis Smith. He invited me over to his home where I listened to his original Broadway cast album with Paul narrating to a neophyte. I was changed for life.

The year was 1978. I had never heard anything like it. My New Jersey suburb was not void of art, but I hadn’t been privy to the musical stylings of Stephen Sondheim until then. The next year I would take a Trailways bus to New York City to see Sweeney Todd. I was enthralled. The double entandras, the dark humor, the rhythmic patter, and the soulful harmonies. I would finish out my college years living in Philadelphia listening again and again to a turntable set on one Sondheim musical or another.