Tony Tony Tony Tony Tony

I’m a little tired today. That’s because last night was the Tony Awards, the only awards show I actually watch. I even contemplated buying a TV so that I could watch them from the comfort of my sofa this year. You see, CBS and the Tonys are a little behind the times and don’t have the broadcast available for streaming. And my darling little TV set stopped working when TV went digital. (I had cable then, so it still worked.) So the bump and I took the long walk all the way to the building next door where the fitness center is located. Yes, I spent more than three hours in the fitness center yesterday evening just so that I could watch the Tonys.

And it was worth it. Neil Patrick Harris is a brilliant host. I think we’re all wishing we can be as elegant as Cicely Tyson when we’re 79. And local boy Jerry Mitchell brought home the award for Best Choreography. The bump was pretty quiet for most of the show, at least until Motown: The Musical did there number. And then it heard that Detroit sound and started dancing to that Michigan music. Good to know that the bump is already showing Michigander pride. (It danced a little during the Kinky Boots number, too, which I attribute to the fact that that’s the show Jerry choreographed. Again, the bump recognized the Michigan ties.)

And since I’m sure you’re wondering, I did walk on the treadmill for about 45 minutes of the broadcast. And the rest of the time, I sat on the weight machine. (Except, of course, for when I was running to the bathroom during commercial breaks.) And the whole time, I was keeping my fingers crossed that no one else would suddenly decide they really wanted to use any of the equipment. And no one did. One of the maintenance men came into the building, but that was the only other sign of life.

I do think I’ll need to buy a new TV for next year’s broadcast. My mom has declared that she’s not coming to babysit for three hours on a Sunday night just so that I can go to the fitness center to watch the Tonys.

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