Dear Evan Hansen, Here are 13 Reasons Why...

Ben Platt as Evan Hansen, photo by Matthew Murphy

Like many, I instantly fell in love with the new musical "Dear Evan Hansen". I passively listened to the music for about a month just enjoying the melody, guitar riffs, and lyrics. I started to piece the story together, but I didn't really pay attention to the theme until I binged on the show "13 Reasons Why" on Netflix, a show that hit me hard as a father, as a male, and as an overall human being. I jumped back into the music of Evan Hansen and the pain took root. 

Both Evan Hansen and 13 Reasons tackle teenage suicide, a theme that is not new, but has struck a chord in me as of late. Suicide is lonely, a personified version of Zeno's paradox (the belief that two objects never really touch). The choice of suicide as presented in both of these shows is a result of invisible person-hood. Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen) and Hannah Baker (13 Reasons Why) feel invisible for different reasons. While Hannah leaves behind tapes expressing "13 reasons" why she took her life, it was ultimately due to her traumatizing rape that isolated her identity. And with mystery surrounding Connor's death, we can infer from Evan's own failed suicide attempt that Connor isolated himself because he felt misunderstood and thought would be able to "disappear" without anyone truly noticing. 

My soul weeps for these characters because they resonate with so many real people. The popularity for Evan Hansen is not just due to the catchy beats or well rounded acting, but to the fact that people really do feel invisible. In a world of 8 billion? How can that be? 

The question that these shows ask is; "Do we matter?" With so many people in the world, it's easy to feel that your own uniqueness is drowned out. We look to imitate not the people with the best qualities, morals, or courage, but the ones who are most popular simply because they are not invisible to anyone. They are seen! Yet, even the most celebrated may still fall into this isolation (I.e. Robin Williams, Michael Jackson, Richard Simmons).  

Underneath the invisibility cloak that the world throws on us, our inner selves still define our existence, expressing our identity through "spiritualized matter". We cannot see that which is invisible unless through that which is visible, namely our own bodies. Hanna's suicide is presented as a release of invisible pain, something that she quietly (almost peacefully even) drifts away from. It showcases life as a prison sentence and the body as the incarceration of the mind, but never discusses the spiritual. Even Evan Hansen avoids the the spiritual element of the human person. That's where my pain sat for several weeks. I understand that religion has become tainted for so many, but you don't have to be religious to know that there is something hidden deep inside of you that cannot really be explained. There is an energy source that, rather than isolating us, intimately connects us. Call it your soul, spirit, God, or authentic self, but something is there that sets us apart. 

"Dear Evan Hansen's" solution to suicide: a stable support network. Evan starts a campaign for Connor to remind people that "no one deserves to disappear", playing on invisible person-hood. The campaign goes viral and inspires thousands. "13 Reasons Why's" solution to suicide: standing up against the culture of rape. The transformative hero of the show, Clay, literally stands up to Hannah's rapist and secures a confession from him after taking a brutal beating. 

There comes a responsibility when watching these shows, to not allow suicide to appear glamorous (as in the show Heathers). 13 Reasons portrays suicide as a way to get revenge on your enemies and Evan Hansen showcases it as a way to capitalize on one's own anxiety. We must remember that even if we feel invisible, we are not. We should draw out the invisible spirit of our uniquely unrepeatable selves. It is through our physicality that our invisible identity is seen. The best parts of us are hidden, only to be revealed through our physical choices, voices, actions, expressions, ideas, etc. 

Suicide is lonely. You are not alone. You are loved, whether you feel it or not. Open up your invisible wounds to several people you trust, not just one person, that way you don't put the weight of your existence on the response of someone who may not understand how you feel. Build a support network and remind yourself that you matter. No one deserves to disappear. Life is a tragically beautiful play and you have your role in it. Ask what it is. You may not fulfill that role for many years from now, but you can never bask in the spotlight of your destiny if you skip rehearsal.  

Dear McDonald’s - A Thank you Note

Thank you McDonalds for artistically telling us millennials that all along we have been eating second hand chicken turds processed inside a brown potato sack-like cover you call a breaded coating. 

(Drives up to the drive-thru)

Thank you for believing that we are gullible enough to fall for your artistic rouse thus allowing ourselves to once again be placed under your spell through your new commercial which acts as a reminder of how delicious our childhood obesity was beneath your Arches. 

(Places the order, "Only 20 piece huh? You don't have a 50 piece bucket?")

Thank you for insisting that we pass along our addiction to our offspring in hopes that they too will have a place to demand us to take them when our spaghetti sauce is runny or just anytime we put them in a car. 

("Okay, just give me two 20's and a four piece for my kid. Sauce?”)

Thank you McDonalds for your authenticity in admitting you have poisoned us for years by using the adverb "now" in your new chicken nugget tag line, "NOW with real white meat and no preservatives”. What about then?! 

("Sweet and Sour all day!")

Thank you for your consistently masked belligerence in your advertising through the use of Olympians who are probably eating a vegan burger cooked on Jason Mraz's farm instead of that heart attack you call a Big Mac. 

(Bites into a nugget and sheds a tear.)

And finally, thank you McDonalds for proving that you don’t need a clown in your ads anymore to remind us of who we are as your patrons.  

(Guiltily admits he preferred the nuggets with the GMO’s. Nothing like the classics.)

"Black Tap and the Experience Illusion"

So aside from the film industry, I am in the business of creating positive guest experiences through hospitable Storytelling. At the Biltmore Hotel in Miami, Florida, we create experiences that are so impactful, the guest is compelled to share their story with someone else via word of mouth or social media. Retrieving these positive stories is only possible through our commitment to serve with deep empathy and passion. The Biltmore has an outstanding product that demands outstanding service, else that product would be devalued. The stories we create are only as good as our service. If a guest reads a great story about our Fontana restaurant, decides to try it out, but receives terrible service, the experience is disparaged. Experts say we are living in an "Experience Economy", where experiences outweigh mere services and goods; but after what I witnessed last weekend, I believe we are moving towards a "Social-Experience Economy", where the digital experience is more profound than the live one. However, does this make the experience worth paying for?

Black Tap

Last weekend I was in New York City with my family. My sister had been psyched to try this place called Black Tap Craft Burgers and Shakes (+Black Tap) ever since she started following them on Instagram and saw them on Buzzfeed. They had been posting pictures of their food for a while and have become known for their gourmet burgers and decorative milk shakes. Even the Weeknd showed up... but not during our weekend. Sorry. His name... I had to.

The Weeknd enjoying his Cookie Shake +Black Tap 

Their social marketing campaign proved successful the moment we arrived. If we wanted a much-desired seat in this SOHO sweet spot, we'd have to wait in a two-and-a-half hour line just to get in. Two-and-a-half-hours, folks. As my wife's students would ask #isthisreallife?

Five of us, plus my two-year-old daughter, committed to this line. Anyone who attempts this with a two-year-old should check themselves into a mental hospital. Luckily, we have the coolest daughter on the planet and she held up for that long. So many times we contemplated just skipping the line, but something about the experience compelled us to stay (blame those Instagram filters). We wanted to try those decorative milkshakes, we stared at and discussed Black Tap's social media pages) and the closer we were the more the anticipation grew. (My wife would like me to point out that she was highly-absolutely-positively against this line from the beginning and even suggested other restaurants.) But the rest of us knew that the great reviews, the amazing pictures, and the long lines couldn't be wrong about this place.

Finally our time came, just under the two hour mark (how cool were we)! We were escorted into the pub and seated at the bar. They had hooks for our bags and outlets to charge our phones. There was a full bar with local craft beers. Amazing right? With our stomachs grumbling, our two-year-old breathing a sigh of relief to finally get to color, and our phones plugged in to ensure enough battery life to socially document every detail, we perused the menu and prepared to order. With all of the hype about this place we assumed the service was going to be top notch, but to our surprise, the service was mediocre and disorganized. It took us another 15 minutes just to order after waiting so long. My wife asked the waitress if she liked a certain burger and she just shook her head and said in a non-caring voice, "I don't know, I haven't had it." It was clear that, in order to keep up with the high demand, the company sacrificed service, the most important part of the experience. 

All the food needed to be ordered at the same time (drink, apps, meal, and shake) so the server would only need to touch the table once in order to move on to the next batch of suckers-- I mean customers. In my case this meant that they brought out my beer, appetizer, entree, and gourmet shake all at the same time. You had guests having to choose to enjoy their delicious craft beer or eat their meal, or dive into their milkshake before it all melted away because of the restaurant's lack of organization. I mean, it was all over the place. When my wife caught sight of the on-coming milkshake (which was making its way to us before our burger salads), she quickly asked our waitress if the milkshake could wait. After all, if a toddler catches sight of a gigantic ice-cream sculpture oozing with chocolate chips, how much of her dinner do you think she'll have? That's right: none. Plus add that to the tantrum thrown when said mountain of ice-cream is placed before her and we enforce that she should finish her meat patty. Yeah, as my wife would say, "hell no." Luckily, the young woman making the shakes caught sight of our anxious faces and held off on the shake (she later confided in us that she did this because she, too, is a parent).  

Finally, the big moment came: Black Tap Shake Time. After the ooh's and aah's of our dessert's entrance, I quickly realized the shake was mostly whipped cream and chocolate syrup. The straw was too short to start drinking it because the whipped cream was overflowing. I tried taking a sip at first and got smothered by the white foam. I started digging through this sugary mountain just so I could taste the shake. It had an ice cream sandwich stuck on the glass which was nice to toss in the shake, but then I lost all of the whipped cream in the after splash. The chocolate chip cookie was good... my daughter certainly liked it... but was it worth the two-hour wait and bad service? Besides, trying to drink this thing was ridiculous and we could have saved two hours by just ordering the shake to go and avoiding the $15 worth of  decorative glass.

The burgers were good, but not worth the wait. The space was poorly utilized as most of their downstairs tables were open (possible hype-tactic?). The company clearly did not know how to function with large volumes. The experience was downgraded to meet the high demand rather than upgraded to keep customers coming back.

Social-Experience

So many people were snapping photos of their food and posting them online, including my party. I asked my brother about his experience and he said that his burger was delicious, but he would never come back. This was a one time thing. He tried to justify the bad service however, saying that my expectations were too high for just a bar. Maybe he is right but in my experience, it's the service that changes the game from "one-time-thing" to loyal customer. 

It's amazing how much money people spend on the illusion of an experience. They see others post photos of these shakes and make the decision that they are worth standing in line for because participating in the online experience with others is attractive. To my disappointment, they were just shakes. In the experience economy, the consumer's experience is all that matters. Within the social-experience economy, however, it is about the illusion, something that acts as a social media status changer. The illusion experience makes the food taste better because your mind believes it has to be this good. The experience of posting it online and sharing it with celebrities like the Weeknd is what satisfies the consumer more than the actual product and service does. And to contribute to the social-experience economy, I've had more satisfaction writing this blog than actually eating at Black Tap. They got me. The big question is what will happen to the service industry if consumers only care about the illusion more than the live experience? Will the stories about the illusion become more impactful than the stories of genuine service? Instagram and Snapchat may have proven they have.

In case I wasn't clear, Black Tap is not worth the wait... but if you wanna chance it and participate in the social-experience it provides then be sure to grab a slice of pizza while you are in line and remember to not bring a toddler!

P.S. Miami Locals will enjoy Spring Chicken much more than Black Tap with no wait, tastier food, and decent shakes! 
If you are a carnivore and are looking for a good burger joint, check out my buddies blog! Burgersandtech.com

Sara Bareilles’ recent single comes from her new musical “Waitress”, with it’s story adapted from the 2007 award-winning Indie Film. The musical centralizes on a waitress, who strategizes a way to leave her abusive husband, but finds herself pregnant with his child in the planning process. With an innate talent for conceptualizing and baking beloved pies for her patrons, her identity lies sandwiched between her impressive pastry skills and the cowardly use of a man who can’t love. 

The song “She Used to be Mine” is the musical’s ballad baked into a melodic pie of brutal self reflection. Whether you have seen the movie or listened to the tracks released on Bareilles' new album, “She Used to be Mine” attempts to pry open that emotional coffin you buried a piece of your soul in. 

I’ll give you four minutes to listen to the song… 

Now here is a breakdown of how it relates to you (mostly me though…maybe you too). 

Brokenness

“She is broken and won’t ask for help”

Brokenness is something we can all relate to because well...we are all broken. Jenna, the main character, sings about her unwillingness to seek help within the shattered confines of her marriage. I’ve always had trouble understanding why some people stay in abusive relationships until I looked at my own self-pity. I can be extremely hard on myself especially when I fall into the common misbehaviors of my damaged character. I repeat mistakes, often wondering if I’ll ever learn from them. My brokenness is rooted in fear and am willing to bet that much of your brokenness is rooted in the same; fear of facing your past, fear of change, fear of responsibility, fear of your own thoughts, fear of pain, fear of being alone, fear of losing someone, fear of losing yourself, fear of being loved and not being loved.

Jenna is afraid for the entirety of the story. She is afraid of never being loved and never loving in return; true love, not feared love as coerced by her egotistical husband. That fear began when she lost her mother, a woman who showed her that baking can be as artistically enriching to taste as the Dome of St. Peter’s Basilica is to absorb with your sight. Tragedy is difficult to recover from once it sinks its roots into the heart with unpronounced emotional numbness. Once you are numb, it’s easy to stay in an abusive relationship. One is convinced that it is better not to feel anything than to face the internal combustion that is the grieving process.

Jenna sings, "Most days I don't recognize me." She is holding on to her brokenness by dwelling on a past identity. We are not always the best version of ourselves in our most fondest memories and sometimes those admirable traits we have will alter. While our core identity remains in tact, the surrounding elements will shift. By trying to get back to a single time in our past we don't leave room for the necessary transformation of our heart’s authentic self. But as Jenna discovers at the end of the play "Everything Changes”, including those traits that made up the identity she once desired. 

Life is Alive

“Sometimes life just slips in through a back door and carves out a person and makes you believe it’s all true.”

Wow, how brutally honest is this lyric? When looking back on my life I can say there have been times when life carved out an identity that was false and convinced me it's who I was. Without self confidence, I believed that the repeated opinions of others was all I was made to be. This lyric is all about taking control of life before it takes control of you. Life of course is alive. It’s a garden waiting to be pruned or else prepared to grow wild wherever it likes.

When I was 10 years old my friend’s Michael and Matt had a picnic table in their backyard. One day they were playing on it (or something) and it broke. Rather than fess up, they blamed it on me. I wasn’t even there! That did not stop their mom from forcing a false confession out of me. She sat me down in her kitchen and told me that I needed to admit what I did or I would never be able to play with my friends again. She promised their wouldn’t be any repercussions If I just admitted it. It would have been nice if Mike and Matt had given me a heads up about this, but they didn’t. So instead of embracing an identity of honesty and self-worth, I admitted to a crime I never committed just so I would not lose my friends. She convinced me of admitting to something that was not true and it rooted into my identity. I started having a fear of authority from that point on. This is an example of how “sometimes life just slips in through a back door and carves out a person and makes you believe it’s all true.”

Even at a young age, even when we may think it doesn’t matter, even at the loss of friend’s, one cannot forfeit their identity. The outcome is immense as one develops their character.  

The Back to the Future Syndrome

“If I’m honest I know I would give it all back for a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two.” 

I find myself thinking of times in my past that I would like to go back to and relive with the knowledge I have now. I want to prevent myself from making irrational choices in desperation of avoiding the pain of emotional consequences. I know; however, that because of former bad decisions I have achieved a much more valued character. I also know that because I persevered through those challenges I have become a better version of myself. I am a better person because of those mistakes. Yet, I still won't hesitate to travel back in time like Marty McFly and change my past even if it means affecting my future. That's what I call BFS or Back to the Future Syndrome. The goodness in our lives is shadowed by the dark scars in our past.

This song is Jenna's BFS moment. She cannot see the goodness residing inside her because she is consumed by thoughts of a "girl she once knew”. This is a plea for identity, an S.O.S. to the inner life, brought about by the unrecognized life force within her. We all have a life force that we have abandoned and are searching for again.

Jenna's life force is her unborn child motivating her to become stronger. Your life force may be an untapped talent, your passion for justice, or the yearning for unconditional love. Life forces are transformation makers. Jenna accepts that her old self is gone and a new identity outshines the old. Her transition from a motherless child to the mother of a child changes everything. Mother is who she is and how she now thrives as she sings to her newborn in the final song of the musical "And who I was has disappeared, it doesn't matter now you're here, so innocent...And I swear I'll remember to say we were both born today." She Used to be Mine is a song that wants Jenna to cling to the past, but the following song, Everything Changes prepares her for the new future, one that transcends her past self. Think of a snake, it cannot fit into its old skin once it's been shed. As Jesus put it, you cannot place new wine into old wine skins. You cannot cling to an identity you no longer have, but must seek for the transformative life force within. 

Bareilles bridges a gap between pop and musical that has been missing for a long time. The song speaks volumes in context of it’s story, but holds it’s own as a pop single. Enjoy!

Further Viewing

Jessie Mueller breaks your heart

Songs from Waitress Live Concert