Three Times A Lady

The air was ripe with excitement and anticipation.

20,000 well-dressed people were seated in Chicago's cavernous United Center waiting for the legendary Barbra Streisand  to take the stage for what we'd heard would be a spectacular 3 hour show. Everyone knew it would be a polished production punctuated by a lush orchestra. But at 70 years old, could she still 'deliver the goods'?

If you aren't new here then you've seen Barbra mentioned from time {wink} to time. Perhaps you've even read my special Barbra story...

When we were teenagers, my best friend Stacey and I swore if Barbra ever went on tour, we'd quit our jobs and follow her like Deadheads follow The Grateful Dead. Of course back in the mid 80's there was no hope in sight that Barbra would ever overcome her legendary stage fright and give up those goods. She hadn't toured since 1966! When she finally did conquer her fears and hit the road in 1994, I was a struggling young waiter and the closest stop on her tour was Detroit. Forget the increasingly (and exceedingly) high price of concert tickets; I'd have to take a weekend off from work and pay for airfare! I could either fulfill a lifetime dream or pay my rent. I paid my rent and waited for the HBO special.

When she decided to give it another go 6 years later, there was no question I would be there. A plan of action was quickly put together and implemented. I flew into Los Angeles and met Stacey there for one of the most exciting evenings of my entire life. I'll never, ever forget sharing that experience with him. Or going to Canter's deli on the way for patrami on rye and the best rugelach in L.A. for desert! I clearly remember leaving the venue that night amongst a silent crowd of thousands- everyone still too mesmerized to speak. Once we hit the street, Stacey lit up a joint. Two older ladies passed by us and one said to the other "At a Barbra Streisand concert?" Her friend quipped "Sure, why not."

In 2006 while I was living in Chicago, she did it again.

There were allot of folks griping because they had paid steep prices for tickets 6 years before under the guise that she would never tour again. But this new tour was devised as a way for her to raise money for her charitable organization and in doing so, she raised millions and millions for excellent causes. I was more than happy to do my share! This time I was able to host a pre-concert soiree at my place, complete with tasty noshes and Barbra's favorite libation- Bellinis. Jeffery arranged for a limo for the whole gang to be transported to and fro worry free. It was all-so chic. Stacey and I were interviewed by Rosie O' Donnell's cameras for a documentary that never saw the light of day, and I wore fur pants. Yes I did.

Flash forward to this past Summer. 

With her 70th birthday just behind her and her 50th anniversary with Columbia Records just around the corner, Barbra announces a special 2 night stint at Brooklyn's brand spanking new Barclay's Center. It would seem that the borough's most famous export was coming home for a first time ever concert event! Then several weeks later, the Brooklyn shows unexpectedly expanded into a mini tour. The morning of the announcement my reaction was calm and resolved. After a lean year it didn't even occur to me that I would go. I couldn't justify the expense. When tickets for Chicago went on sale Jeffrey called and said "Are you crazy? That's what credit cards are for! It'll be your Christmas and next year's birthday present. We're GOING!" And the next thing I knew I had a ticket.

In the press and gossips (and even online fan forums) there was much speculation about Streisand taking on such a venture at her age. Could she still cut the mustard? Would her voice hold up?

Welll, I was there in Chicago this past Friday evening and I'm here to tell you that she not only delivered the goods once again, she exceeded expectations. Her tone sublime, her legendary phrasing of the lyrics as impeccable and poignant as ever...and in some instances like never before. She hit and held all the necessary notes- caressing or belting. The buzz at intermission was all about how her voice seemed to be in even better shape than it had been in 2006. Clearer and stronger. How was it possible? I could go on, but you really ought to read Miriam di Nunzio's spot on review from the Chicago Sun Times here.

When the concert came to it's rapturous conclusion and we all met up at Gate 3, the look on everyone's faces was that of pure bliss. Barbra Bliss. It wasn't so much the awe of being in the presence of a living legend, or even the sheer delight of having had an exceptional musical experience. It was quite simply, Barbra herself. She imbued the evening with so much warmth that you had no choice but to part ways with a glow. She's never been a mere songbird. She's an activist, a humanitarian, a mother. To see her in concert is to be wrapped in the cloak of all those things. Did I mention she looked like a million bucks in Donna Karan? She did.

I could be wrong, but I seriously doubt that she'll ever tour again.

She has a couple of almost certain film projects coming up, and by the time she were to get around to putting another show together, she could easily be in her mid seventies. After seeing her this past weekend, I can't help but think about how fortunate I was to be there for this last, magnificent hurrah. Thanks Jeffrey.

The kid who never dreamed he'd be able to see his idol even once, has been three times lucky. She's truly ageless...and yes, evergreen.

The Killer Bee Club: Elizabeth Gilbert

Elizabeth Gilbert muses on the impossible things we expect from artists and geniuses -- and shares the radical idea that, instead of the rare person "being" a genius, all of us "have" a genius. It's a funny, personal and surprisingly moving talk. Enjoy it, if you haven't already caught this excellent TED Talk.

Card Carrying Member

As the season of hibernation grows near, I'm vowing to get reacquainted with my inner reader...A visit to my dear old friend The Library feels like a good way to break the ice.

The Killer Bee Club: Maya Angelou

Illustration by Benjamin Jancewicz

This short clip from a recent interview with Dr. Angelou illustrates why this Killer Bee is a national treasure.

Can you imagine? Can you?

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Musical Treat Of The Week: Double Dip!

Sometimes it's good to know what you're getting for Christmas!
Alber in my stocking has been promised, and I'm very excited.

The new "Matt Alber with Strings Attached" dvd promo looks absolutely gorgeous...

STRINGS ATTACHED TRAILER from Greg Sirota on Vimeo.

Sneak Peek!
This version of Velvet Goldmine is stunning...

VELVET GOLDMINE from Greg Sirota on Vimeo.

Quote, Unquote #18: The Value System

"The value you place on yourself is the value the world will give you. If you want to be compensated for your talents - value your time. If you want to be a valuable business - solve valuable problems. If you want to be a valuable lover - give your love away with no expectation of return. If you want be valuable to yourself - choose people who do the same."

- Jackson Kiddard

The Original D.I.Y.

by Cassandra McShepard

When I was younger I went through a period where I didn't want anything home-made, even though my mother was a professional seamstress and was capable of constructing anything, and I do mean anything. I wanted to dress like my friends, so I didn't want to wear anything that didn't come from the store. Now, being the loving mother that she is, she indulged this foolish whim with one shopping trip which resulted in a pair of too short jeans from the Wooden Nickel, and an ill-fitting top from Gimbles-Shuster’s bargain basement...

You see I've been 5’9” since I was twelve, and back then store-bought clothing wouldn't accommodate my long frame. My mother knew this of course, but she wanted me to learn it for myself. The next time I went back to my mother to ask her to make an outfit for a class field trip, (which I’d often done and she would sometimes sew through the night to accommodate my last minute request) it resulted in a sewing machine and loving “Do It Yourself.”

Man, had I offended her? Who knew mothers had feelings? 

Well I learned that they did, but that wasn't all that I learned. I really did learn how to do it myself. Now of course my mother helped me. She would show me how to trim a pattern, how to measure it and make allowances where needed to ensure that it would fit my then size 10 hips (and size 6 waist), as well as how to lengthen it so as to be long enough. Because she sewed for people she always had fabric and she would let me pick from some of her 'choice pieces' (this was a phrase of hers).

Of course I always wanted to rush through it, but she would check my seams and make me do it right, saying “It should look as good on the inside as it does on the outside. You should be able to wear it inside-out”. Which I thought was incredibly silly. Who would wear a dress inside-out? Like so many other jewels my mother gave me, this too became invaluable. As I went on to design for entertainers exacting a high price, and saw many a seam checked.

D.I.Y. 

My mother could have coined that phrase, for it was what she believed in. She taught me to be independent. Independent of the hair salon, the nail salons, the clothing salons. Her mantra, “Learn to do with excellence anything that you would pay to have done”. Well I took her advice, and I am now the ultimate Do It Yourselfer. As a matter of fact I do it for others too. All the time. Because of the wings my mother gave me, I have earned income as a Clothing & Jewelry Designer for such artists as the late Phyllis Hyman, Nancy Wilson, Abby Lincoln, The Manhattans, Frankie Beverly & Maze…I worked as a stylist doing hair & make-up for a nationally published magazine. I am very capable of doing my own nails. Yes, the left hand is done as well as the right. I build furniture and make window treatments. I am a personal trainer, motivational speaker, television talk show host, and on occasion, professional songstress.

But am I special? Nope, not in the least. I’m just free, free to do it myself. You see at an age when I was still listening, I was told that I could-  and just in case you're still listening, so can you! You too can D.I.Y.

Because I promise you, this is what I know so far;

Something happened. We have advanced ourselves into dependency. Why learn to do it, just pay to have it done? We have become so reliant upon others! Instead of encouraging our children to learn simple skills we have crippled them. Where we used to have to be D.I.Y’ers, we have now become the ultimate consumers. Sadder still, many of us seek our worthiness in the amount of that which we are able to consume.

Because I am a D.I.Y’er, I work very hard. My jobs though are not drudgery, I enjoy the work I do! I have turned all of my passions in to dollars... and all because I was told to D.I.Y.

So I’ll give to you the same gift my mother gave to me.

You will never know what you are capable of doing until you at least try to D.I.Y! Whatever you choose, pick something thing that you are paying someone else to do for you and just try it. Let me know how it works out! cmcshepard@yahoo.com

Cassandra McShepard has more hyphenates than Chins in a Chinese phone book. She's currently enduring Wisconsin Winters so that she can co-host the incredibly popular morning television talk show, Real Milwaukee. You can catch more of her on Cassandra McShepard Television.

COVERGIRL: Cassandra McShepard

If you're a newbee here, you may not know that I represent renaissance woman (and force of nature) Cassandra McShepard. If you've been buzzing around this hive for awhile, then you're fully aware of all the exciting things that have happened (and that are happening!) on our exciting journey together...

Yesterday the very talented Rick Swearingen of Mortensen Photography, photographed her at my house for the November cover of Wisconsin Woman Magazine...I couldn't help but want to share a few these gorgeous shots with you here!

That Autumnal Feeling

It's what comes before that "holiday feeling".

PAMELA ANDERSON Untitled Abstract I 36 x 36
Acrylic, Spray Paint on Canvas (and yes it's for sale)

Break out the sweaters! Start roasting the squash!
Don't panic, there's still 85 day's till Christmas!
Forget March madness. I'm clearly in a Fall frenzy.

Autumn is truly honey to this Bee. I'll gladly trade you August for 2 Octobers. If October were a man I would marry him. Handsome October. It's always so good to see you.

This fall finds me a bit more fractured than usual. The toll of reinventing a business while trying to juggle clients and manage Cassandra has left me a little weary this evening. It's deliciously cool and crisp, perfect for a fire in the place...but I don't think I have the stamina to see one through. The blaze beneath the pan of Jiffy Pop will have to do. For crying out loud, I was painting floors until 2 this morning. Today my body was like "Bitch, please." But I shall soon reap the fruits of my labor, and I will as promised share them with you here. Our grand reopening is November 16th. Keep you're eyes peeled.

There's a new computer in my life. She's still in the box. And I'm sure that's where she'll stay to until after we have our "soft opening" this Friday. Anyway, she's got a lot more 'joie de vivre' than this old girl I'm typing on right now, and we're going to make little movies together, her and I. The virgin effort will be something I piece together from the footage I shot over 11 days in August, on Lake Orlando with Cherrie and Cassandra. I can't wait to share my little slice of heaven with you!

Are you enjoying the Special Guest Series as much as I am?!

If you've missed any, you can access all of them in the Bee My Guest Archive. While I've missed the therapeutic benefits of writing, I haven't missed the pressure of solely supplying all your entertainment! All kidding aside, I want to make this a permanent and prominent feature...so PLEASE! Would you bee my guest? I'd sure like to have you. Write something. Draw something. Film, or sing something. Share your stories with me, here. We'll sweeten the honey pot, you and me.

Alright then beezers, there's a cool pillow and a cozy comforter calling my name. I'm leaving my window cracked open tonight. I've got a date with October at midnight. Ciao.

P.S. If you don't buy Pamela's painting I will. Even if I have to do it in 63 installments.

Musical Treat Of The Week

It's been a long time coming...

"Quote, Unqote" #17: Look Both Ways

"One thing I know for sure is that with time everything becomes clear, questions are answered, what's broken is restored, new trails are blazed, hearts are mended, love returns, and you look over your shoulder, with a tear in your eye, at life's utter perfection."

 ~ Mike Dooley

HOW MYA SAVED JACOB

Originally posted on July 20th, 2010

I was on an airplane making my way to California when I read this touching story about an extraordinary relationship...here's an excerpt:

Mya senses something wrong. Sitting in the back of the SUV as they barrel down a back road, she detects a change in the air. Jacob is driving, on their way to camp in the Grand Canyon. Though Mya met Jacob only a month ago, she knows him better in some ways than he knows himself. With his ‘yes ma’am’ Southern twang and lanky, broad-shouldered, 6-foot-3-inch frame, he can seem like a big, easygoing guy. But there are times, urgent times, when Jacob needs Mya.
 

Outside the window, the desert hills that stretch as far as the eye can see might as well be in the Middle East. A car comes up behind their SUV-the first car they have seen for many miles-and it passes them, kicking up a whirlwind of dust. Mya doesn’t even look to see Jacob’s shoulders tighten. She leaps into the front seat just before Jacob slams on the brakes. They skid to a stop, and in an instant Mya is on top of Jacob, licking his convulsing body so hard she almost seems to smother him.
 

In reality, this highly trained black Labrador accomplishes just the opposite. Her care leads him out of his dark terror and back to the dusty road...

For the whole( tearjerking )  story, visit Spirit Magazine :
How Mya Saved Jacob

Musical Treat Of The Week

Danny & Annie

A very special love story...

Danny & Annie from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

The Passenger

A sweet lesson on patience...

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away- but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly...

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.'

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired, let's go now'. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said. 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.

It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.