In past years, an overflowing crowd, limited by barriers, would come on a Monday evening, so chosen, I suppose, because Broadway is generally dark on Mondays and the performers could fly in from New York in the morning, rehearse, do the show, and be back at their jobs on Tuesday, which, in some cases, who knows, might have been as singing waitstaff at Ellen’s Stardust Diner (love that place).

But, unless your name is Bruce Springsteen, your Broadway (or even off-off-Broadway) show hasn’t opened yet, so you can play the Pritzker Pavilion on Friday and Saturday night and not miss any time from work.

This also means that you can concentrate more on the Chicago performance, unless you’re still trying to memorize the menu from Ellen’s. It seemed to me that the performers, always in fine voice, were more engaged with their characters than in past years. Even the guest conductor, Lawrence Loh, pulled down his mask to chip in a few lines in one of the songs, to the great amusement of the crowd.

As readers may recall, my history of seeing (or not seeing) Betty Buckley is somewhat checkered, but Mamie Parris played Grizabella in the revival of Cats, so seeing and hearing her sing Memory last night can finally put that chapter to rest, unless Buckley breaks a dinner date with me.