Back in the spring of 1961 I was sitting, with my grandparents, in New York’s Majestic Theater watching a performance of Camelot. Yes, I’m really that old.

At one point, Guenevere, played by a young Julie Andrews, trilled into a delightful song and production number about spring: “It’s May! It’s May! The lusty month of May. That lovely month when everyone throws self control away.” She was so pretty and innocent and virginal. That was before we all found out she had a mean streak and could cuss like a ranch hand.