Ford’s Theater And Petersen House. Ford’s Theater: Mid-rendition of an ABBA offshoot orchestrated by the hell’s own symphony. “Super Trooper,” jackhammering inside my brainpan. Pain, woe, desolation and a need to end it all. I turn, eyes watering from the torture. “Isn’t it magical,” my date, once more proving without a shadow of a doubt that once the post-coital glow fades, all that is truly left is either loathing or love. In this case. “Dear God, it’s simply wonderful…” Loathing was winning over. I am once more struck why, in spite of so many of my friends clamoring for Broadway, I’ll always feel more at home in a movie theater. Nursing a big bowl of popcorn and watching how Captain […]