There's a reason why I love musicals so much -- they make me happy!

I treated myself to an afternoon showing of Hairspray and came out of there singing and smiling. It's great fun, great singing, great dancing, a great story -- definitely a movie worth seeing.

First, I love that John Waters and Ricki Lake have cameos. It's fitting that they paid homage to the original. Now, if they could only have found a place for Harvey Fierstein -- but then they couldn't have anybody drawing focus from the John Travolta incarnation of Edna Turblad, could they?

The new Tracy, Nikki Blonsky, is tremendously talented. She truly owned the role and I was bopping and bouncing around right with her.

I have been in love with John Travolta since the Vinnie Barbarino/Boy in the Plastic Bubble days but I was very skeptical of him as Edna Turnblad. But he camped it up just right and by the end, I loved him too. Travolta and Christopher Walken as Edna and Wilbur were really quite hysterical.

Queen Latifah as Maybelle wasn't much of a stretch. I immediately thought of her in Chicago. Yes, she is a big girl who can sing and sing well, but these roles really strike me as being glorified mammies and that, of course, is not a good thing. I don't think she should take another role like this one, no matter how tailor-made it seems for her.

The one absolute miscast was Amanda Bynes, who seemed out of place the entire movie. Alison Janney as her Bible-thumping mother, though, was hysterical. She's got the chops. Amanda, I've always thought of as quite limited. The guy who played her love interest, Seaweed, was just gorgeous. Such beautiful, velvety skin and a great singer as well.

The music and choreography are tight and the story, of course, is true to the times. I would definitely see Hairspray again, if for no other reason than that I know I'm going to walk out singing and smiling.

What's taken me so long to post here? Oh, the myriad of stories I could tell but they'd all lead back to one word: LIFE. Oh, and another: BUSY.

Anyway, had an experience this morning that I had to share, that has inspired my first post.

Let's call it, "Chipped plates."

I went to the Bongo Room in the South Loop, 1152 S. Wabash Ave., for breakfast. I had a hankering for some mixture of chocolate-banana pancakes and I knew I could fix that itch there.

As usual, I knew exactly what I wanted when I sat down: coffee, a half-order of Oreo-banana pancakes and a side of bacon.

The food, as usual, was great. No complaints about that. My complaint? I was served this lovely oreo-banana concoction on a shitty plate that was chipped in three places.

I made this gentle complaint known to my server, a young red-haired dude, who couldn't have cared less. I started out by saying that I lived in the neighborhood, just down the street, and have been eating at the Bongo Room for years -- at this location and in Wicker Park. I also mentioned that I work in media, in hospitality, and that I pay attention to presentation, that presentation is important.

I then told him that I don't eat on chipped plates at home -- I don't expect to pay to eat on a plate chipped in three places. Someone should be paying attention to such things and if they're not, they should start. The Bongo Room, after all, does not fancy itself as a dive where chipped plates are the norm. But somebody is not paying attention, clearly. The plate should be retired.

I got a glassy, blank stare and a fake smile from my red-haired server, and he kept it moving. Did I finish my food? Yes, of course, because I was quite hungry and it was good. But I could not stop staring at the three very deep divits in this horribly ugly plate I was eating from.

A bus girl came and picked up the plate. I told her the story and showed her the chips. She expressed that she was mortified. I said the plate should be retired. She agreed.

My tip was reflective of the fact that I did not appreciate being served on a chipped plate -- 10% of the subtotal. I told the server exactly that. Got the same glassy stare and fake smile.

I told the person who was acting as the manager because the manager was not in and she was appropriately mortified. She asked if I'd paid for my food. Of course, I already had. She expressed disappointment that my server had not made any effort at all to accomodate me. I shrugged. I told her that I just hoped somebody would be paying attention the next time and not serve anyone else on a shitty, chipped plate.

Bottom line: These restaurants have got to stop charging 4-and 5-star prices for 2-star service. They have got to stop, as the Bongo Room does, giving off a 4- and 5-star vibe for 2-star service. Sometimes I eat at Eppels across the bridge at 554 W. Roosevelt Rd. It's one of the best, inexpensive breakfasts you can get. No airs, no pretension, busy, but no lines to get in, no $9-$12 pancakes -- and NO chipped plates.

The Bongo Room could stand to take notes -- on service and presentation -- from their decidedly downscale brethren...