When It's Too Important To You

My whole life I've been fortunate to work in industries that afforded access to talented artists and celebrities, first as a journalist and later as a public relations rep. I've literally met hundreds of A-list stars. I am an avid, perhaps rabid, film fanatic and so I always enjoyed talking with filmmakers--everyone from John Travolta to Francis Ford Coppola. But the three people I've most admired over the years, I've never had a chance to meet: Barbra Streisand, Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio. I've had a couple of close calls and missed opportunities, but something always fell through. I think I wanted it too badly. My whole life seems to be afflicted by this pattern. Most things come easily to me. But when I desperately want something not a shot. It came back to me in spades this weekend when Streisand's latest concert special aired. We had a minor rain, but apparently it was enough to cause my satellite dish to black out every three or four seconds--that's less than one Streisand high note. So my plan of keeping the special on my DVR for instant access washed out. The DVD comes out on Tuesday, and I am eager to purchase for many reasons, including the fact that I was serendiptiously interviewed for it outside Staples Center in L.A., both before and after the closing concert of her 2006 tour. If my rule of thumb holds true, I've probably wound up on the cutting room floor. Still the points I made I still believe in, even though cheerleading for Streisand is no longer in vogue. Everyone most enjoys the music they grew up with. As a child of the seventies, for me that's Streisand. People may not remember or youngsters cannot grasp what an unparalled and perhaps unprecedented entertainment force she was three decades ago--an industry unto herself, and the first woman in Hollywood with real influence. In my interview, I credit her with my cultural awakening. As a rough-and-tumble street kid from Chicago, I didn't know much about much. One afternoon with nothing to do we stumbled into the only movie theater near our home and saw "A Star Is Born." I was immediately captivated by this person, who came off as truly exotic to me. I bought the soundtrack. That led me to buy another Streisand record. Soon I was discovering Cole Porter, Harold Arlen and George Gershwin. I was digging into clever writing from a time when it took more to be a lyricist than the inability to conjugate. Whether I make it onto the DVD or not, I hope Streisand at least heard my testimony. I owe her a debt of gratitude.