WICKED

Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) once said something like this: "I don't want a man who is really wicked. Just one who could be wicked - but wouldn't!"

As men the world over have questioned the phenomenon that is "TWILIGHT" and wondered at the scores of women flocking to the books and movies and drooling over vampires and werewolves, I have chuckled to myself, knowing the secret that is the reason behind the mania. Let me enlighten you.

I can't speak for all women, but judging by the success of this pop culture story, I think I speak for many women in saying that there is something powerfully alluring about the man who "could be wicked, but wouldn't." That bad-boy danger, the tantalizing rush from walking at the edge of a precipice, yet knowing you won't fall. That is what draws us to reach out and love the tortured, beautiful, good men who are also vampires and werewolves.

I love WICKED. The play, that is. I love the story of friendship and changing, and the discovery that the "Wicked Witch of the West" from "The Wizard of Oz" story actually has a past you can understand and identify with. I love that beyond the "wicked" label, she was a person of great sensitivity, talent, passion, and love (and has a great singing voice). I love that things are not always as they seem, and that the shallow, dashing young man of the story gained a depth of understanding and he fell in love, not with surface beauty, but with the green-skinned woman who "could be wicked, but wouldn't." I love that he could tell her she was beautiful and that it "wasn't a lie, just a different way of looking at things."

If you don't already know, I got to see "WICKED" for the second time in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago. It once again held me entranced. Thanks to great friends for wanting to go see it with me!