When I was ten years old my mother picked me up early from a friend’s birthday party.

“Dad has to work late,” she said, “and we bought two tickets to a musical so I’m taking you.”

I didn’t know what a musical was, but I was happy to be going somewhere with my mom.

Our seats were in the last row of the gallery, far above the stage.  Even at that distance, I was transfixed by Mary Martin and Ezio Pinza performing Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific.

One of the songs. “Happy Talk,” resonates...