Tag Archives: Barbra Streisand

Jun 03 2012
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Informative

Coincidence?

Another day, another blog post? As patterns go this has not been mine but you will recall that in my inaugural post I mentioned that I would write when I had something to say and after what happened last night, I have something to say. As a matter of fact, if I don’t get this out I think I’m going to plotz! (if you don’t know, look it up).

I’m sure you remember that yesterday I wrote about my experience as a Barbra Streisand look-alike and the effect it has had on my life. Hopefully you will have also recognized how, at the end of the post I craftily embedded some discreet references to Ms. Streisand’s musical prowess, particularly as it applied to her work in “Funny Girl”, a movie which I must now reluctantly admit I had never actually seen. Until last night, that is.

I’m not sure how many of you are night owls like me, but if you are you will know that Saturday night/Sunday morning is not the best time to be trying to find something inspiring to watch on TV. As I flipped through the stations trying to avoid yet another Zack Braff movie (I like him, it’s just that three in one night is a bit much) there she was in all of her glory. Fannie Brice, a young Jewish woman making her way from the streets of New York to become the star of the Ziegfeld Follies, played spectacularly by none other than Barbra Streisand. She sang, she danced, and she was funny. Boy, was she funny! And I thought I was going to die the first time Omar Sharif showed up at our her dressing room door.

When I woke up this morning I got to thinking how ironic it was that on the very day I wrote a blog, not only about Barbra, but with specific reference to the songs from “Funny Girl”, the movie showed up on TV. Now I know there are lots of Streisand reruns. I myself have shed tears during “The Prince of Tides” and “The Way We Were” more times than I care to count. But this was not your run of the mill “Fockers” rerun. This was Funny Girl! From 1968! What are the odds?

As any good shallow person would do I have concluded that there is a direct correlation between my blog post and last night’s TV schedule. It may have been the Barbra Streisand tag I added to the post, I can’t say for sure. Just consider that on its busiest day this blog had 52 hits so you never know who could be dropping by. Some might label this conclusion delusional, whereas I would prefer to consider the impact I have had on mass media, and what is reality if not one’s own perception of the truth. This blog is making a difference in more ways than I could ever have imagined. Not to mention the boost this recent event has given to my self-esteem. And if you are still searching for a reason to be shallow, the ability to so easily build up your self-esteem could be reason enough.

Again, sorry for bothering you with two postings in a row but now that you have read what I had to say I am sure you can understand why I needed to write again. I’ll do my best to hold off for a few days but I can’t make any promises. You never know when something important like this is going to happen again.

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Jun 02 2012
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Informative

What you see is not always what you get

Just got off the treadmill where I was thinking, mostly because besides watching AGT (America’s Got Talent for those of you who are not fans) that’s what you do on the treadmill. You think. And since most of my spare time now is spent writing this blog I started to think about my last post and in particular, my assertion that when it comes to shallow people, “what you see is what you get”. I am nothing if not a woman of my word but in retrospect I find myself having to qualify that statement, as for most of my life I have been placed in the regrettable position of letting people know that what they see is not always what they get. As it happens, it would appear that I have an uncanny resemblance to someone better known than I and as a result I spend a good deal of my time convincing complete strangers I am not who they think I am. The conversation usually goes like this:

Complete Stranger: “Do you know who you look like?”
Me: “Angelina Jolie?”
Complete Stranger: “No! Has anyone ever told you that you look like Barbra Streisand?”
Me (with blank stare): “Who? I’ve never heard of her. What does she do?” (Cut me some slack here…it’s the 10,000th time!)
Complete Stranger: “She’s a famous singer. Oh right. You’re kidding. OMG! Are you Barbra Streisand?”
Me: “No, I’m not”

Not the most riveting verbal exchange and I have a funny feeling that had Angelina Jolie really been my double the conversation would end there. But Babs (I think I have earned the right to call her that) is somewhat more ambiguous. So while at this stage of the game I am pretty much tapped out of things to say, most people feel compelled to continue with, somewhat apologetically I might add, something to the effect of “well I think she’s beautiful.”  Which most often leaves me with the distinct impression that theirs is a rather unique opinion not shared by the general population.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not bothered by any of this. Over time I have developed an affinity for Ms. Streisand, her voice, her disposition and yes, even her looks. Not to mention the benefits I have reaped. Like the time I was checking into my hotel and the concierge, who was convinced I was a frequent patron he knew very well even though I assured him I had never previously been to this establishment, not only personally delivered my bags to my room but actually handed back the tip, insisting that it was his pleasure to be of service to me. Honestly? Do ordinary people get treated that way? I should think not.

But I digress. While I have become accustomed to these rather frequent interactions there is one aspect that I have to admit has puzzled me, because in all my years on this earth I have never felt the urge to approach a complete stranger and ask them if they know who they look like. So why, I ask myself, do so many people do this to me? The only logical explanation I can come up with is that even though they realize the chance of running into Babs at the Target check-out counter is on par with winning the lottery, they would just kick themselves if they were wrong and had passed up their one chance in a lifetime to say hello to “Dolly”.

I try to let them down easy, try not to disappoint. But once in awhile, even the luckiest people in the world have to face the stark reality that what they see is not always what they get. I just wish it wasn’t me that had to rain on their parade.

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