The Book of Mormon at the Orpheum in San Francisco

The Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco Presents the Book of Mormon

Because I have the patience level of a chimp, my husband and I drove to San Francisco yesterday to see The Book of Mormon at the Orpheum Theater. The Tony-award winning musical is coming to Sacramento next March, but who can wait that long? The drive into the city is only 90 minutes, even on a Sunday afternoon. I was thinking about the trip to San Francisco when I drove to Folsom and back last week to preview a home I am listing shortly in The Parkway. It was 45 minutes each way from Land Park, and that equals the distance in time to San Francisco.

Elizabeth Weintraub in San Francisco at Farmer’s Market

Which means when my husband suggested we take the Capitol Corridor train, and then the B.A.R.T. into the city, I thought it would be simpler just to drive and, since he didn’t want to do it, I would. Although, I’ve got to admit the streets of San Francisco are often confusing with red lines and lanes for things like buses and taxis only, street cars, coupled with odd don’t-turn-here signs and let’s not forget the homeless rolling off the sidewalks asleep. Amazingly we drove directly to the Market Street parking garage, which was one of the nicest parking garages I’ve ever seen, featuring extremely clean, painted cement floors, floor-to-ceiling columns and an unusual orderliness to it, as though the garage exists in another dimension like The Twilight Zone.

Spinach salad with Salmon at Market Street Grille

We grabbed a leisurely lunch at the Hotel Whitcomb, inside the Market Street Grille. I chose the place because it was close to the Orpheum and located inside an historic hotel, and I love the feeling of older architecture, it speaks to you; plus the food was decent. Even the decor of the restrooms was lovely, an unframed oil painting of a rose in full bloom, the edges of each petal outlined in a shimmering gold held my fascination while I waited for the long line of tourists to enter and exit. I shot my sister in Minneapolis a photo of lunch, and she returned the favor with a picture of a PB&J sandwich.

Stage curtain at The Book of Mormon

Going to San Francisco, for me, is like going to Spain. It’s another country, reachable by floating across the magical harp. A perfect place to see The Book of Mormon. If you go to see the musical, and you’re not Mormon, you will laugh your fool head off. If you go to see the musical and you’re Mormon, you’ll still probably grin wide here and there because Parker and Stone just weren’t snarky enough. Oh, sure, there’s the Book of Mormon stuffed up where the sun doesn’t shine, the f-you’s aimed at the Heavenly Father, crapping, puking, sodomy, references to raping babies, but you can easily overlook that stuff when your eyes open wide in amazement during my favorite production number: the Spooky Mormon Hell Dream, featuring Gengis Khan, Hitler, Starbucks and Johnny Cochran.

You don’t have to be snarky with this musical because the story of Mormon does it all for you, all by itself. The truth is right there. There is nothing funnier sometimes than the truth. I found it hilariously stupendous and give The Book of Mormon 5 stars.