Tag Archives: Barbra Streisand

Tuesday Time Warp: Waiting, Barbra Streisand and Glee

The wonderful Kathy over at Four of a Kind came up with a thoughtful and fascinating idea for a blog hop: “Time Warp Tuesdays”. “Time Warp Tuesdays” allow you to revisit an old blog post, reflect on it and decide whether your perspective has changed since writing the post.

This time, the theme is “Waiting”.

Kathy chose a provoking topic for her first hop. Waiting is a big theme for the ALI community. So much of our time is spent waiting for the next cycle, the next ultrasound, the next test, the next doctor’s appointment. It’s no wonder that Peggy Orenstein titled her memoir about her own journey with infertility “Waiting for Daisy”.

Once I started blogging, my own wait was over: I had just found out I had miscarried at eight weeks, and my twins (conceived after two and a half years of infertility) were almost two. But the two words I associate most with my own infertility journey are “waiting” and “hope”.

Here’s the post I chose: it’s about my Dad’s long wait to interview Barbra Streisand (that diva reputation is deserved), and my attempt to take on the Rachel Berry/Barbra Steisand school of thinking, specifically delineated in the song “Don’t Rain On My Parade”.

Don’t tell me not to fly, I simply got to
If someone takes a spill, it’s me and not you
Who told you you’re allowed to rain on my parade
I’ll march my band out, I’ll beat my drum
And if I’m fanned out, your turn at bat, sir
At least I didn’t fake it, hat, sir
I guess I didn’t make it

Here’s the clip of Lea Michele nailing that song. To the wall.

I was trying to gather the courage to create and post a video for Resolve’s National Infertility Awareness Week. I eventually did and posted it. It certainly didn’t set the world on fire, or win any awards. (In fact, it’s only ever been clicked on 55 times, so I guess I didn’t make it. But, at least I didn’t fake it.)

That song still is my marching orders. When I feel my feistiness falter or my energy flag, this song reminds me that what I DON’T do will have been perfect, but WAITING to take action prevents me, us all, from living, and living now.



Filed under Discovering joy, NIAW

Reflections on Being Surrounded By Barbra Streisands

Barbra Streisand is a go-to joke in my immediate family.  My father was flown down to interview her in L.A., during her publicity rounds for “The Mirror Has Two Faces.”   My father had interviewed many famous people at that point in his career, including a President of the United States.  He loves to tell us that no one kept him waiting longer than BARBRA.

Here’s his first-hand account:

“I flew down to Beverly Hills Sunday to catch an evening screening of Streisand’s new movie, `The Mirror Has Two Faces.’ The following day I waited around until after 11 p.m., even though the interview was scheduled for 6 p.m.

There was an eight-minute video about the filming of the movie that played continually in the room where journalists slumped, awaiting the golden summons to a one-on-one with Barbra. I watched it dozens of times, committing many lines to memory, before thinking to disable the machine when no one looked.

Great consternation when the sabotage was discovered. But then we got to watch ‘Monday Night Football,’ ‘Murphy Brown,’ ‘Melrose Place’ and other diversions.”

My family is extremely WASP-y.  I can say that without being disrespectful, I hope.  I grew up believing: You never keep anyone waiting, you need to be polite, you couch your opinions carefully, you don’t hurt people’s feelings.

I’ve been watching the first season of “Glee,” and honestly, I’ve been on the fence about it.  Until the episode entitled “Sectionals.”  Rachel Berry, the Barbra Streisand-ish character on the show, described as “wanting everything too much”, sings a Barbra Streisand song.  The song is “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” Lea Michele rocks the hell out of that song.  I thought about the song, a lot, over the last couple of days.

The lyrics might as well state the opinions of most of those who surround me now: they have an incredibly different philosophy than the ethos I grew up with.  I think their philosophy might well be summed up by this song.  It’s a scrappy, life-consuming song.  Here are the lyrics:

Don’t tell me not to live,
Just sit and putter,
Life’s candy and the sun’s
A ball of butter.
Don’t bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!
Don’t tell me not to fly–
I’ve simply got to.
If someone takes a spill,
It’s me and not you.
Who told you you’re allowed
To rain on my parade!
I’ll march my band out,
I’ll beat my drum,
And if I’m fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn’t fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn’t make it!
But whether I’m the rose
Of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose
Of life’s complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye,
I gotta fly once,
I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, life is juicy,
Juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir!
Get ready for me, love,
cause I’m a commer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart’s a drummer.
Don’t bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!

I’m gonna live and live now,
Get what I want–I know how,
One roll for the whole show bang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target and wham
One shot, one gun shot, and BAM
Hey, Mister Armstein,
Here I am!
I’ll march my band out,
I will beat my drum,
And if I’m fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn’t fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn’t make it.
Get ready for me, love,
’cause I’m a commer,
I simply gotta march,
My heart’s a drummer.
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!

My greatest fault (I have many) is that I am a perfectionist. I don’t want to say anything unless I amaze the room.  And I never do.  I can’t imagine believing that I had the right to fly – and that I simply have to.  In order to fly, much preparation would need to take place, and many people would need to approve. But this is B.S.

This is all an excuse as to my I haven’t posted my NIAW post yet.  I want to amaze the room with my words, but the truth is: I probably won’t.  I don’t have the golden voice of Lea Michele.  I don’t have the warrior spirit of Keiko.  I have not the eloquence of Stirrup Queens.  Or Stumbling Grace.

But, I’ve realized, that’s OK.  I don’t have to be perfect in order to take my turn at the bat. And yes, that’s a clue as to what my NIAW post will be about.


Filed under Barbra Streisand, Infertility, NIAW, Parenting After IF