Back in February, my Big Hollywood colleague and super-funny-dude Tim Slagle wrote a series of posts on the Broadway musical “Avenue Q”.  The show was going through a mini-crisis/publicity stunt because one of the big punch lines to the song “For Now” was no longer valid:

A song called “For Now” has the puppets reassure each other that most things in life are temporary, like hair and sex. Until recently, one of those temporary things was “George Bush.” Knowing that Obama was to be shortly inaugurated, the producers and writers were perplexed for a replacement. I know it should be obvious to everyone else, but Broadway producers don’t think like you and I. So they threw a contest to decide a better verse.

Two weeks later, Slagle followed up with the big announcement of the new lyric:

So what did they decide to use? The winning lyric is: ”George Bush WAS only for now.”  Brilliant. I guess like “South Pacific” and “Bye-Bye Birdie,” some vintage musical theater is better when presented in the time frame that it was originally written. “Avenue Q” will now be forever remembered as a Bush-era production, although the impact has noticeably waned. ”We now know that although George Bush’s presidency was only for now,” show creator, Robert Lopez noted, ”the comic potential of ‘George Bush’ seems like it may last forever.”

Not so fast. This week, “Avenue Q” did something that Broadway shows rarely do.  They closed their production and re-located to an Off-Broadway house.  During the process of re-opening the show in a smaller venue, the writers took the time to really give some thought to the “George Bush WAS for now” lyric and they have finally found their perfect replacement.

It seems that the real purpose of this line is not to get a huge laugh.  No, it seems that the real purpose is to find the worst possible, evil, racist, homo-phobic, war-mongering, lying, right-wing boogie man and insert their name into the lyric to ridicule and diminish them.  Circa 2004 that person was President Bush. Today, the only person that fits that description is, well, not really a person at all.  You see, the writers of “Avenue Q” have apparently been paying very close attention to the White House’s latest full-court press against… the press!  The new lyric is:

“Fox News is only for now.”

I’m waiting for you to stop the hysterical laughter and applause at this brilliant, Sondheim-like lyric.

Fox News, the highest rated news outlet for over a decade.  Fox News, the network whose 3 AM show out-ranks CNN’s prime time fare.   Fox News is only “for now.” But “Avenue Q” is forever.  Uh, huh.  I expect that Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly will be reporting on the tenth anniversary of “Avenue Q”’s closing.

Let’s face it folks, after having to close its Tony Award-winning production on Broadway, revamping the financial structure of the show, begging the actors’ union to allow them to reduce the performers’ salaries (which the spineless union allowed) and moving to a theatre half the size of the tiny little Golden which housed the show for the last five years, I think it is clear that “Avenue Q” is only for now…. BARELY!

(Applause. The air is titillating.  The mood rambunctious.  The atmosphere tense.  Over the loud speaker we hear, “3, 2, 1 and …”) 

Joy:  Hello, Victoria.  So, I hear you’re a Tea Partier!  (Sarcastic smile.  Eyes roll.)

Victoria:  Oh, well… 

Joy:  I suppose you like Sarah Palin!  (Sarcastic smile.  Eyes roll.) 

Victoria:  Oh, well, I love her, she is so… 

Joy:  She is so dumb!  (Sarcastic smile.  Eyes roll.) 

Victoria:  No, I don’t think that… 

Joy:  Just like George Bush.  He was an idiot!  (Sarcastic smile.  Eyes roll.) 

Victoria:  Oh, no…he protected… 

Joy:  Ha, ha!  So, I suppose you aren’t a big fan of President Obama! 

Victoria:  Uh, …Tort Reform. 

Joy:  Because he is so charismatic, and well spoken and sexy… 

Victoria:  Tort Reform?! 

Joy:  And his wife’s arms!!  So you don’t like his Health Care Plan because you are a racist?! 

Victoria:  Tort Reform. 

Joy:  See?  You are.  You didn’t vote for him, did you?! 

Victoria: Um… huge tax increase, insured illegals, rationed and low quality health care, lack of doctors, tax funded abortions, collapse of the middle class, death of freedom,  Cap ‘n Trade/Tax – Bad, Marxist agenda… 

Joy: You don’t just play a ditz on TV!  You are a ditz!  We’ll be right back after this commercial. 

(Hair and Makeup come to the set and tidy up the middle aged faces.) 

Joy:  So, we’re back with Victoria who does not have a show, and I do!  So…why do you hate Obama?! 

Victoria:  Well, I don’t hate anyone, I’m just concerned about our country becoming… 

Joy:  He is such a good speaker! 

Victoria:  … Communist.  Van Jones was not an accident.  The safe schools’ czar, Kevin Jennings has a gay agenda for our innocent children.  Socialized medicine does not work… 

Joy:  (To camera) You see?  I can’t even have one conservative on my show until they start yelling, and cursing, and bitching!  What is it with you people?!  You are so full of HATE!  Remind me, never to have these stupid A–holes on my show again!  (To producer off stage)  Get me Janeane Garofalo!  She is a genius!  Jesus! 

Victoria:  How can you take Jesus’ name in vain if you are Catholic?

 Joy:  What?  Oi Vey!  I’m not even Jewish!  I’m gonna puke!  Take me to a commercial!  Save me! 

(Applause and fade to commercial)

You know… kind of like when Bush was trying win a war in Iraq – and all those left wingers stood behind him.

And that’s my first point: The right has every right to gloat over Obama’s humiliation, because, thankfully, NO ONE DIED. Unlike, say during the Iraq war, where, whenever there was a roadside bombing, the progressives did their own special victory dance – using the consequences of war to gloat over an embattled president and an unpopular country. I didn’t hear much of the smarmy press calling them out.

So, if I take pleasure in watching Obama’s big fail, it’s only because it proved a point I made before he was elected: that being likeable, in and of itself, does nothing for America. To protect our nation and further our interests, our leader must reject the need to be loved by the world, and embrace being feared, even hated. I know that’s hard for our guy. Being a self-proclaimed “citizen of the world,” he enjoys the accolades of Libya, Venezuela, Iran, Cuba and Russia. With friends like that, who needs enemies.

But hey – screw the Olympics. Maybe Obama should now focus on bringing the World’s Fair back to Chicago. If there’s one thing that could make dictators like us more, it would be temporary structures filled with stuff from other countries. They look positively magical, even if they’re flimsy and fall apart in a strong wind.

Which sounds familiar.

And if you disagree with me, then you’re probably a racist.

Tonight we’ve got Jim Norton, S.E. Cupp, Mark Prindle and Ron Geraci!

What is wrong with our leaders?  Are they worried that they won’t be invited to those cool Ramadan parties?  The Islamists have been actively at war with us for 30 years and generally at war with western civilization for well over a thousand years, and still we pay lip service to these people in a way we never did with Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan or the Soviet Union.  Is it because the Muslims commit sadism and murder in the name of religion and not country?  If anything, I would think that would make their evil acts all the more contemptible.

Still, I would contend that Hezbollah and al Qaeda are not as dangerous as America’s liberals.  The Islamic terrorists can only kill so many people, but those on the Left are doing everything in their power to eviscerate America.  Cap and Trade can destroy our industrial might; Obama’s trillion dollar stimulus programs combined with his delusional health care plan will not only bankrupt our nation, but lead inevitably to a rate of inflation that will impress even Jimmy Carter; and the budget cuts directed at our military and our missile defense system will make us increasingly vulnerable to our various enemies.

The problem is that liberals are not only nuts, but inconsistent.  They very much want to send our military to Africa to stop the savagery in the Sudan, but didn’t want to see it employed against the equally barbaric Saddam Hussein, Pol Pot or Ho Chi Minh.  Funny how you never hear them insist that we have no business in Darfur because Sudan didn’t attack us on 9/11 or point out that we have no compelling interest in sub-Sahara Africa.  But that’s to be expected when people get their information from Bill Maher and Jon Stewart and their talking points from the likes of Bono and the Dixie Chicks.

Clearly, the Left wants America to be a toothless tiger, rather like the U.N.  What they fail to grasp is that as America goes, so goes freedom everywhere.  Or perhaps they think the French will do a better job of policing the world.  The French, alas, can’t even police Paris.

Speaking of liberals, the irony is that so many of them who never believed God even existed are now convinced that He is alive and well and going out on date nights with Michelle.

Getting back to Muslims, there are people who would insist that we should distinguish between those who cut off the heads of their innocent victims and those who just want to live and let live.  Well, I keep trying, heaven knows, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

For instance, recently I read about a stomach-turning incident that took place in Phoenix, Arizona.  It seems that four boys between the ages of nine and 14 lured an eight-year-old girl into a shed and took turns raping her.  While that was pretty damn loathsome, what was even more disgusting is what took place afterward.  In the little girl’s presence, her father, a Muslim refugee from Liberia, told the police, “Take her.  I don’t want her.”

It seems that in what passes for their culture, the child had brought shame on the family.

Now I understand that any country that keeps electing people like Bill Clinton, Barney Frank, Barbara Boxer and Barack Obama, the killer B’s as it were, doesn’t have terribly high standards, but assuming we have any at all, will someone please explain how degenerates like these get into the country?

For instance, consider the uproar from the left when Don Imus opened his silly yap about the black women on the Rutgers basketball team.  Now compare that to their response when David Letterman made his smarmy cracks about Sarah Palin and the governor’s 14-year-old daughter.  The liberals immediately sprang to his defense, pointing out that Letterman is nothing more than a TV personality and is therefore free to make offensive jokes without fear of censure.  So what do they think Don Imus is?  The secretary of state? 

Or consider how choleric those on the left become any time that Dick Cheney defends the former administration.  Well, if Obama and his cronies didn’t constantly attack Bush and Cheney and their policies, the chances are the ex-vice president wouldn’t feel compelled to set the record straight. Furthermore, Jimmy Carter never stopped bashing George Bush during the eight years he was the president, and yet nobody on the left ever suggested he shut up.  On the contrary, he was hailed at the 2004 Democratic convention, and even had the honor of being seated next to the patron saint of left-wingers, Michael Moore.  Speaking of Carter, how is it that he, who is always volunteering to monitor elections anywhere on earth, including the Westminster Dog Show, wasn’t in Iran, making sure that Ahmadinejad got 110% of the vote? 

Liberals never got tired of telling us how much George Bush was despised by those in other countries, although, for the record, I kept asking the loons to name those countries, but could never prompt a response.  I assume even they were too embarrassed to mention Iran, North Korea, China, Yemen and Russia.  Instead, they kept insisting that America should be more like Europe.  Inasmuch as conservative politicians are winning elections in England and all over the continent these days, the people finally waking up to the unmitigated disaster socialism is, I could now join in the chorus.  But, of course, so far as leftists are concerned, I’d now be singing a solo. 

I have to wonder, though, how much non-Muslim nations trust our current president.  It’s one thing, after all, to travel to other countries and talk a lot of diplomatic flapdoodle, but when Barack Obama takes every opportunity to tell the world how awful we are — or at least how awful we were until he got elected — it has to make people wonder if, like his missus, he had never been proud of America prior to his canonization by the media. 

It doesn’t make things a lot better when he makes obviously foolish remarks, such as insisting that the U.S. is one of the largest Muslim nations, and that Muslims played a major role in the creation of our republic. 

That one really had me reeling, so I went back to my trusty old history book and looked it up and, sure enough, he was correct.  Right there in black and white, I discovered that among the most influential of the Founding Fathers were Abdullah Washington, Mahmoud Adams and Osama bin Jefferson.

The big topics of the week were Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the presidential fly killing:

The election of Mahmoud was compared by the talk show hosts alternately to the 2000 Presidential and the 2008 Minnesota Senate elections. Fallon claimed that now that his opponent lost, he’ll go on to make a documentary about Global Warming.  David Letterman actually did a joke almost every single night, changing the punchline from Florida voting machines, to Pat Buchanan, Al Gore, Al Franken and Jeb Bush.  Bill Maher used Norm Coleman then criticized his audience for not knowing who he was talking about. The funniest line was Ferguson’s who claimed that Iranian politics have finally gotten as corrupt as Chicago.

Ferguson and Conan get the Writers Over Shoulders Award for making a joke about the fly being eaten like a lizard.  Ferguson speculated that it would be done by Cheney, while Conan put a computer animated tongue in the president’s mouth, snapping the fly off his wrist. Kimmel gets an honorable mention for putting a sound effect of flatulence behind the video so it looked like the President was trying to fan the odor away.

The Most Overused Person as a Punchline goes to Thomas Prusik Parkin, the man who dressed up like his dead mother to collect her social security check. David Letterman accused both Elton John and Barry Manilow of dressing like their mothers on alternate nights. The funniest line he said was that he was so good at dressing up like an old woman that Ashton Kutcher wanted to date him. (He told a similar joke the following night, saying if he wanted to look like an old woman he should have dressed up like Madonna.)

John McCain buying a hybrid was another big story of the week getting attention from Conan, Fallon and Letterman who used it for ageist jokes. Letterman claimed that a Hybrid to McCain would be a horse and buggy while Conan claimed that to McCain, hybrid meant an AM/FM radio. Fallon claimed that seven months ago he couldn’t use a computer, but now he’ll have a hybrid and a twitter account; perhaps he’s the new Benjamin Button.

Jimmy Fallon reached all the way back to an administration that predated his talk show career to deliver the Lamest Attempt at an Obama Joke, claiming that George Bush tried to one-up the new President by killing a fly himself, but it took 20 minutes of clumsy two handed swatting. There were also a couple Bill Clinton as a predator jokes during the week. But the Oldest Presidential Reference goes to Stephen Colbert, who ran Richard Nixon’s quote about Bohemian Grove being “faggy.”

Most of the week’s Obama material centered on the fly. One exception was Jon Stewart who derided the President for trying to fix Health Care in the middle of a war on two fronts and trying to keep the nation from looking like it did in the Grapes of Wrath. But the Funniest Obama Line goes to Conan who claimed that while President Obama was on the phone talking to Phil Jackson and Dan Bylsma, Joe Biden got to talk to Tito Jackson and a real penguin.

The Most Interesting Interview of the week was Governor Mike Huckabee on the Jon Stewart Show. Governor Huckabee very clearly laid out the constitutional pro-life position for the Daily Show audience. Stewart, was defenseless against a rational case for the rights of the unborn, especially since Huckabee’s position was not based in religion, zealotry or misogyny–the straw men Stewart usually attacks. His audience also appeared stunned, as they were not able to perform their trademark trained seal-clap more than a couple times during Stewart’s humiliation.

The Angriest White Man is still Bill Maher, who after a brief flirtation with moderateness, struck back at those of us who congratulated his criticism of Obama. In a remarkably unfunny rant, Maher warned Republicans:

And as far as you folks on the right, who think that we’re now somehow in league: we’re not in league. I was criticizing Obama for not being hard enough on the corporate douchebags you live to defend.  I don’t want to be on your team, pick another kid.

Gee, all we did was compliment him for being fair.

Besides Letterman, perhaps there might have been another threat issued down to a host last week. It seems David wasn’t the only one, who had to apologize to his “sponsors.”

Look at his life. Borgnine was born to Italian immigrant parents in 1917, spent 10 years in the Navy, including all of World War II, then bummed around as a second string character actor for another decade before snagging an Oscar in his first major role. The closest thing to life experience one of today’s stars has is a three week stint at $5,000-a-day rehab resort getting seaweed facials and talking about how his daddy never told him he loved him during group therapy while secretly gobbling the vicodins he smuggled in inside the liner of his Louis Vuitton cosmetics case.

You want retro cool? Forget posers like George Clooney and his pathetic attempts to relive the Old School dream with his Ocean movies, skinny ties and succession of cocktail waitress girlfriends. Ernest Borgnine is a 33rd Scottish Rite Mason, was in From Here to Eternity with Frank Sinatra, and was married to Ethel Merman. He married Ethel Merman! Try and top that for retro cool, George. Borgnine not only founded the Old School but is a Professor Emeritus.

What are his politics? Who knows? While his most recent political contribution was to George W. Bush in 2004, Borgnine comes from a time when actors concentrated on acting. He is very active in supporting Navy veterans, but you won’t hear him spouting off about his specific views. He’s a generic patriot – there’s probably a yellow ribbon on the back of his Caddy (you just know he drives a Cadillac) and anyone he sees messing with the flag can probably expect to feel one of those meaty Borgnine paws hard across his pie hole.

But can he act? Hell yes. There is that aforementioned Academy Award for 1955’s Marty. Marty is the heartbreaking story of a homely 30-ish meat cutter and his delicate romance with a plain-Jane schoolteacher. Borgnine is fearless as Marty, lashing out at his own looks and his inability to connect with women in a way no modern star ever could or would. It is a brave performance in a way you simply do not see today, and a performance that is a credit to both Borgnine’s talent and lack of ego.

Marty is about real people and real love, but if it were remade today – and lacking either vampires or a graphic novel pedigree it never would be – you can just imagine the Hollywood weasels’ notes:

Instead of this lonely butcher thing, which is a downer, how about making Marty a swinging TV reporter looking for The One?…And can we rename him Gavin? And let’s make the girl a model – is Kate Hudson busy? We’ll need a non-threatening gay friend for her. And let’s get Gerard Butler as Marty, I mean Gavin. Awesome. I think these changes are really going to test well.

Borgnine’s ten minute supporting role as the general who gives Lee Marvin his suicide mission at the beginning of The Dirty Dozen is like a master’s class in acting. In just a few minutes, he shifts from deadly serious to comic and back while holding his own against arguably the toughest guy ever on screen. Watch his face and his expressions and reactions, then compare his technique to that of today’s actors, whose “performances” seem to consist largely of them standing there staring vacuously and radiating their unnatural beauty. No contest.

–

Ernest Borgnine has been in classic Westerns like The Wild Bunch and Bad Day at Black Rock, got capsized in the original Poseidon Adventure and even showed up on SpongeBob SquarePants. Sometimes he was a maybe bit too versatile – this Italian-American portrayed “Ragnar” in The Vikings. Still, he epitomizes the concept of the working actor, with roles ranging from big budget films to parts in what only one grading on a generous curve would label as B movies. He’s had several TV series and a ton of guest shots, including a part in the finale of ER and a memorable appearance in a classic episode of The Simpsons. And if you check out his IMDB site, you’ll find over 200 entries and see that he has three more movies coming out. The dude is 92!

You can have the soulless, polished Berluti loafers that are the stars of today – I’ll take the scuffed character of the old bowling shoes reeking of spilled Budweiser and the feet of a hundred guys with names like Sal and Bob that is Ernest Borgnine.

Jon Stewart makes Arlen Specter look principled.

Like Pee Wee Herman, Jon Stewart launched his intercontinental ballistic missile, and he could not put the missile back on the launching pad. In his case, the only thing that seeped out was stupidity.

Jon Stewart, for those who are not “trendy,” “hip,” or “cool” (brie-cheese-eating-elitist-snobs according to the Tygrrrr Express dictionary), has a nightly political television show where he presents the news with all the accuracy and fairness of the Jayson Blair Times.

Yet he is slightly different from the JBT. The JBT wants to be taken seriously, despite being leftist, boring, and usually wrong. Jon Stewart wants to be taken seriously when it suits him, and as a comedian when that benefits him. He straddles like Bill Clinton, only with his trousers on. On the one hand, Stewart claims to offer intelligent political insight. Yet when challenged a couple of years ago, Stewart took the defensive posture that his show was followed by “crank calls by puppets.”

This is not about “Crank Yankers.” This is about acting like a cranky wanker.

Jon Stewart had his CW moment when debating the absolutely brilliant Cliff May. I know Cliff personally. He is no partisan hack. He is a serious policy analyst with expertise in matters of national security. People who attend his lectures are better off for it.

Cliff May debated Jon Stewart on torture, and the only thing that was definitely tortured was Stewart trying to keep up. Cliff May did not use coercive interrogation methods on Jon Stewart, but he certainly put him in an uncomfortable stress position. Stewart was twisted into a pretzel by the time the debate was done.

Here is May’s recap of the events.

May asked Stewart if Harry Truman was a war criminal for bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Stewart hemmed, hawed, and fumbled his words. For a man who lambasted President George W. Bush for malaprops and syntax fracturing, Stewart sure looked like the pot calling the kettle African-American. In fact, he looked like President Obama without a teleprompter.

He eventually blurted out that, yes, Harry Truman was a war criminal.

Then came the backlash from the millions of people that understand that America is about Jimmy Stewart, not Jon Stewart.

Jon Stewart then apologized on a later show. It takes a tremendous amount of courage to apologize after a backlash occurs. After all, free speech is not free. Just ask Dr. Laura. Jon Stewart may have come to understand that some of his sponsors do business with Middle America.

Yet, this is about something deeper. Why does Jon Stewart give latitude to Harry Truman while skewering George W. Bush?

Because ideological bigotry requires that liberals and Democrats be exalted while Republicans and conservatives are skewered. Actual issues are irrelevant.

(For those that are part of the Jon Stewart love orgy, Ideological Bigotry is my groundbreaking new book that exposes leftist hatred. Middle America gets it. You should as well.)

Jon Stewart realized that he criticized a Democrat. It is better to be a hypocrite and anger people that you already detest than to be consistent and anger people you love. It is not possible to unite everybody on your side, but it is possible to unite people against you.

So let me offer some common sense that will be self-explanatory to Middle America.

Harry Truman did the right thing. He made an impossible choice that none of us will ever have to make. His job was not, as some liberals insist, to save the world. His job was to save America. We were under attack. By killing many innocent Japanese civilians, he prevented millions of Americans from being killed. He did the one thing a president must do. He kept us safe. As an extra benefit, millions of people worldwide were saved.

George W. Bush also did the right thing. He also made the impossible choice. He also responded to an attack on our soil by going everywhere terrorists were harbored and protected.

We were attacked by Japan, but Harry Truman took the fight to Germany. Germany never attacked us. So what? They were part of the problem.

We were attacked by Al Queda, but George W. Bush took the fight to Iraq. Iraq never attacked us. So what? They were part of the problem, as are Iran and Syria.

More people died at the hands of Harry Truman than George W. Bush. The numbers are not even close. Harry Truman took measures more brutal than anything George W. Bush ever did. Harry Truman ordered the most unimaginable response.

So if Harry Truman was right, then George W. Bush cannot be a war criminal.

Jon Stewart knows this. To deny this is to be intellectually dishonest, or as I say in my Tygrrrr Express dictionary, “a liberal.”

Jon Stewart once remarked that when George W. Bush was right about something, “My head may explode.”

Well, feel free to spontaneously combust, Mr. Stewart. George W. Bush got the biggest thing right that he was asked to do.

Jon Stewart has his right to free speech because George W. Bush protected and defended that right.

Yet Jon Stewart allowed fear of being called a hypocrite to overrule common sense.

He then realized that nobody has a right to earn tons of money from “free” speech.

Jon Stewart was not protecting free speech. He was protecting very expensive, highly paid speech.

It is at that moment that he decided to “apologize” and defend his bottom (left) flank.

He had the courage of his “convictions,” which was to defend his rumpus from financial harm.

Real courage would be Jon Stewart offering an apology to George W. Bush while he is still alive to hear it.

Whenever I’m feeling a little down, Streisand’s rousing, patriotic rendition of “Before the Parade Passes By” (from the Hello, Dolly! soundtrack) is the next best thing to shooting up a Diet Rockstar.  The movie may be deadly, but that track is classic Barbra: starts out quiet, plaintive, then slowly builds to an almost militaristic crescendo of chorus, trumpets, beating drums – and Babs, screaming her head off above it all with a heroic, never-ending high note that sounds like a war cry.

I know - that’s so gay.  But for me, the song is musical comfort food – and proof of the power of the human spirit: a rusty Main Street USA antique, shined up and brought back to life by a disadvantaged ugly duckling from Brooklyn, with a voice straight from God, who beat the odds.  That’s when Streisand was still one of a kind.

But that was 1969.  This is now.  Today, “Before the Parade Passes By” would probably be called something like “Whenever the Trans-Cultural Community Gathering Happens to Reconvene.”  And it would probably be sung by Sheryl Crow.

But I digress.  In the massive Malibu mudslide of post-9/11 celebrity Bush-bashings and anti-war ravings, it’s easy to forget that one of La-La land’s first star bloggers, Barbra Streisand - who, to her credit, started out way back when as a JFK-era Democrat - was once a unique and groundbreaking entertainer.  She was also an underdog.  The little girl with the unapologetic schnoz (and the even bigger voice) smashed the 1950s WASPy standard of female beauty and clawed her way up from the gay clubs of Greenwich Village to star on Broadway and win every major show biz award, including two Oscars.

Streisand was the first unabashedly Jewish leading lady to play love scenes opposite superstar hunks like Robert Redford and Ryan O’Neal, and even Egyptian-born actor Omar Sharif.   Her on-screen kiss with Sharif probably did more to provoke Arab-Israeli dialogue than any of Obama’s grand words.  (”You think Cairo was upset?” she quipped when Funny Girl was released in 1968.  “You should have seen the letter I got from my Aunt Rose!”) 

Musically, Streisand was a true diva, who could turn an ordinary standard into a three-act mini-drama in itself – the pop equivalent of an operatic mad scene.  Like Judy Garland and opera star Maria Callas – who both came from broken, dysfunctional homes – Streisand lost her birth father before she was two and endured a difficult relationship with her stepfather.  She grew up feeling like she didn’t fit in, harboring a tiny seed of anger to combat overwhelming sadness.  That kernel of rage eventually grew into an all-out, three-alarm fire in the belly, the kind that fuels many great performers.

From the start, I wasn’t so much into the sensitive, people-who-need-people Barbra as I was the show-stopping Godzilla who could obliterate her competition with one loud, elongated belt.  No matter how much Sir Cecil Beaton adorned her, she was still a street fighter.  

Streisand first stormed my consciousness during a network broadcast of Vincente Minnelli’s lavish but butchered On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (1970), an unlikely musical about past life regression (well before Shirley MacLaine got in on the act).  Barbra’s exuberant closing rendition of the title song as she is superimposed against a vast, heavenly sky – all Dusty Springfield hand gestures, Arnold Scaasi couture, and vocal sonic blasts – blew me away.  Nearly 40 years later, despite its bombast, the song has never been sung better.

As a lonely gay teenager, I was bolstered by her striking combination of emotion (feminine) and seeming invincibility (masculine).  Streisand’s raw histrionics and police siren strength gave me hope that one day I’d be grown up too, living an independent life, free of shame.  Perhaps that heightened duality is what qualifies performers like Streisand and Garland as “gay icons.”  At the risk of sounding like a stereotype, her defiant voice helped me get through a lot of dark days.

Delving into Streisandiana, I soon discovered she was equally adept at bringing humanity to a range of non-singing roles.  She went all “street” as an insecure prostitute in The Owl and the Pussycat (1970), turned on the coy quirks as an eccentric genius in Peter Bogdanovich’s What’s Up, Doc? (1972), and gave an atypical, understated performance as a neglected housewife with a rich fantasy life in the forgotten Up the Sandbox (also in ‘72).

While the last film remains something of a blur to me (I haven’t seen it since its first run), one particularly bizarre scene stands out.  Barbra’s character is about to make love with Fidel Castro (don’t ask me the details) when, suddenly, the Cuban dictator removes his shirt to reveal a pair of female breasts.  The significance?  Anybody’s guess.  But probably to show a softer side of the beloved tyrant.  In another subplot, Streisand gets mixed up with some colorful Black Panther types who are planning to blow up the Statue of Liberty.

Those were the days when we could still joke about such things.  Rebelling against the Hollywood jingoism of The Green Berets, long-haired studio execs were exploiting the counter-culture, turning it into slick, subversive propaganda for impressionable young Americans like me.  By 1975, the post-Watergate, post-McGovern election loss, left-wing victim belief system was as much a part of the show biz establishment as the March of Time newsreels had once been.  All my favorite stars – Streisand, MacLaine, Jane Fonda, Warren Beatty – seemed to drink Kool-aid from the same “Democrats good, Republicans bad” trough.

I’ll never forget, for example, seeing Shirley MacLaine’s wonderful one-woman show at the legendary Palace Theatre in New York (I think it was 1975).  The lyrics of her opening number, “Remember Me,” were tailored to drum home her liberal martyrdom:

“In Washington, my name was on the enemies list!

Because I was a Democrat, they slapped my wrist! 

The candidate we needed was The Excorcist!  [big sh*t-eating smile]

Re-mem-ber me…”

As a clueless 15-year-old, dazzled by show biz razzmatazz, I assumed this sentiment signalled an enlightened path.  MacLaine and Streisand both had campaigned for anti-Vietnam Presidential candidate George McGovern (I loved Barbra’s Live Concert at the Forum album – a fundraiser during which she proved her hipness by smoking a joint on stage between songs!).  And wasn’t MacLaine a sophisticated world traveler who had been granted a glimpse of utopia on a much bally-hooed, ladies-only trip to Mao’s People’s Republic of China?

In her second memoir, We Can Get There from Here, MacLaine shared how her brief junket in totalitarian paradise made her take a good, hard look at her own egotistical, Western artistic needs. She described how, in China, she came to feel “a sense of strength, a common bond among these people, joined together in a common task.  They were not producing junk to sell for profit in some second-rate department store.  They were feeding China…. it slowly dawned on me… perhaps we were simply blank pages upon which our characters are written by parents, schools, churches, and the society itself.”

And perhaps by the guilt-alleviating delusions of spoiled actors and actresses?  MacLaine, of course, went right back to the spotlight.  And I kept on devouring her books (but lost interest by the time she became a mouthpiece for preachy space aliens and light beings).

(Both MacLaine and Streisand also campaigned for vaguely radical New York congresswoman Bella Abzug, whom Babs described as a “very special lady… dedicated to peace.”  For the record, I’m here to say there was nothing “peaceful” about Abzug, who once stormed into my family’s apartment in the middle of the day, mistakenly thinking it was for rent.  After imperiously casing the joint - without once making eye contact with any of us, the actual tenants (a.k.a. “the people”) – La Abzug marched out without even a perfunctory apology.  It was more than a little frightening.)

Meanwhile, my favorite singing dark horse was changing, gradually drifting further and further away from my devoted commoner’s ear.

By 1975, when Streisand reprised her Oscar-winning role of Fanny Brice for Funny Lady, the dreary sequel to Funny Girl, rumors of divatude were becoming all too common.  One item claimed that Barbra had ordered award-winning cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond to allow her eight-year-old son to frame some of the shots.  (Zsigmond was soon replaced by James Wong Howe.)

Around that time, I happened to meet respected stage and screen actress Estelle Parsons, one of Streisand’s costars in the comedy For Pete’s Sake.  When I excitedly asked Parsons what Barbra was really like, she paused.  Then she gently offered an anecdote about how, in the middle of shooting one of their scenes together, Streisand had abruptly announced she would deliver all her lines to actor Michael Sarrazin instead, essentially cutting Parsons out of the moment.

“You just don’t do that,” Parsons said nicely.

The Barbra Streisand-Kris Kristofferson rock-n-roll remake of A Star Is Born opened the following year, accompanied by a frenzy of bad publicity.  Both New York and New West magazines published a scathing article by the film’s director, Frank Pierson, which detailed the exasperating experience of working with the now-legendary “perfectionist” and control freak.  Even Kristofferson said, “Filming with Streisand is an experience which may have cured me of the movies.”

Critic Rex Reed called A Star Is Born ”stupid, cacophonous and unnecessary” and likened the faux rock songs to the sound of trash can lids being banged together.  (At the screening I saw, a man sitting behind me, clearly dragged there by his wife, groaned loudly during one of Barbra’s most dramatic moments, “God, what a dog!”)  Still, the movie pulled in nearly $100 million at the box office, and Streisand was rewarded with a second Oscar, for writing the Best Original Song, “Evergreen.”

I was glad for Barbra, but even at that young age I didn’t think “Evergreen” deserved any awards.  The song was just another one-note Top 40 ballad, with no drama, no story.  I missed the formula of Barbra’s old repertoire, the predictable-but-oh-so-satisfying rollercoaster rise and fall of her interpretations.  But musical tastes were changing, and Streisand wasn’t about to let the parade pass her by.

Not even I could bring myself to see her next film, the tacky boxing comedy, The Main Event.  But there was no escaping the horrendous disco theme song that was so beneath Babs’s talent.  Suddenly, Barbra didn’t seem to be calling the shots anymore; she seemed to have given up and given in – pimping out her unique voice just to stay in the game.

It was over.  I was done.

I didn’t go out of my way to see another Streisand film until The Prince of Tides (1991), which she both starred in and directed.  Based on the novel by Pat Conroy, the non-musical drama about the relationship between a Manhattan psychiatrist (Babs) and a tormented Southerner (Nick Nolte) was pretty heavy stuff - except whenever Barbra’s legs and nails got in the frame.  Pushing 50, Barbra seemed determined to prove to the world that she was still “hot.”  And yes, she looked great.

But she had sacrificed an otherwise serious film in order to be ogled by, as Norma Desmond put it, those wonderful people out there in the dark.  Was there no one advising this lady?

Looking back – i.e. her liner notes for the album Lazy Afternoon - Streisand seemed increasingly preoccupied with her personal feelings (as opposed to musical interpretations), her looks, and in particular her nails.  By the mid-1990s, almost all traces of the resourceful underdog from Brooklyn had been lost under a golden patina of narcissistic New Age softness.  During the making of Yentl, Streisand had been outspoken about reconnecting with her Jewish roots.  How had that reawakening given way to this cautious wax figure?

Again, I felt let down.  Someone who had once been a lifeline seemed to be disappearing before my eyes.  Where was my old street fighter?  While Judy Garland remained true to herself to the bitter end, a riveting mess – and the ghoulish “lost” recordings of Maria Callas, while harsh, continued to serve as phrasing blueprints for less-intelligent opera singers – Streisand’s vocalizing lost much of its spontaneity and intensity.  It seemed the more she shared select intimacies about her “self,” the more untouchable and less compelling she became as an artist.

Did success spoil Barbra Streisand – or, like many Americans, was her focus forever changed by the attacks of September 11th, 2001?

Shortly after that dreadful day, the star began using her official website, www.barbrastreisand.com, to post her now-infamous “Truth Alerts” (”for clarifying significant errors in credible media so that such distortions do not become accepted as truth, as might be the case if they were unchallenged”) and to blog about current events (i.e. against fear-mongering conservatives mostly) – paving the way for the likes of Rosie O’Donnell and, more recently, Gwyneth Paltrow.

Here are some relatively benign samplings (taken out of context, yes, but characteristic nonetheless):

*  “The fact that nearly every major news institution in this country is owned by a large corporation indicates that liberal media simply does not exist anymore.”  Excuse me, Ms. Streisand, but have you watched CBS, NBC, MSNBC, ABC, CNN or read the NYT lately?

*  “The press does not criticize Republican actors Ronald Reagan, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Charlton Heston for expressing their strongly-held political opinions.”  Excuse me, Ms. Streisand, but I never once heard anyone in the press do anything but call Reagan senile, Schwarzenegger stupid, and Heston a bigot.

*  “Who is Sarah Palin?…  I know she’s a beauty pageant runner-up who is a gun totin’ extremist in her views on the environment, religion, women’s choice and the separation of church and state.”  Excuse me, Ms. Streisand, but please see response to first excerpt.

*  “The idea of a liberal media bias is simply a myth.  If only it were true, we might have a more humane, open-minded, and ultimately effective public debate on the issues facing the country.”  Excuse me, Ms. Streisand, but the lack of humanity, the close-mindedness, and the increasingly lemming-like state of our populace isn’t all the fault of one channel (Fox News).

In addition to shilling for Dennis Kucinich’s impeach Cheney resolution, Barbra also offers the great uninformed (that’s you) links to some of her favorite even-handed websites such as the Daily Kos, Crooks and Liars, The Huffington Post, Truthout.org, and the Center for American Progress.  (Guess she blanked on Big Hollywood.)

In 2003, Babs was back in the headlines when she sued California environmentalist Kenneth Adelman for $50 million.  His crime: taking an aerial photograph of her Malibu estate and posting it online – along with 11,999 other such shots - as part of the California Coastal Records Project documenting erosion.

Claiming the single photo jeopardized her privacy, the woman who established the Streisand Chair on Global Climatic Change at the Environmental Defense Fund – and who, according to Prince of Tides author Pat Conroy, “lives like Marie Antoinette” - achieved the exact opposite: more than 420,000 curious people clicked on the website for a glimpse of her mansion.

Backfiring of this magnitude became known as “The Streisand Effect.”

Then, in 2006, Barbra made news again during her umpteenth farewell tour.  Between songs, the star indulged in a drawn-out Bush-bashing comedy skit featuring a ”W” impersonator (not Josh Brolin).  (Note: two years earlier, Streisand had been the first Hollywood star to threaten to leave the country if Bush won reelection.  She didn’t follow through.)  Fans, some of whom had taken out loans on their homes in order to afford the best $1000 seats, wanted to hear the great Streisand sing – not lecture them.

But when her audience voiced its disapproval, what did Barbra do?  She lashed out with a very un-New Agey “Shut the f*ck up!”  Here’s the video:

–

Yes, the street fighter was back – only this time she wasn’t fighting for the hoi polloi, she was trying to shout them down.  All of this was having a real Streisand Effect on me.

For instance, I wondered why this world-famous Jewess, who breathed damning fire onto the leaders of her own country, didn’t instead use her high profile to denounce the barbaric ideology that had declared war on us.  Why wasn’t Streisand out there, front and center, raising her vocal cords in support of women in Islamic countries, who aren’t treated as well as American pets?

Why wasn’t she defending the gays – without whom she wouldn’t have a career - who were daily being shunned in Dubai, brutalized in Palestine, executed in Iran?  Gay marriage is great, but how about fighting for our lives?  Between AIDS (which Babs has raised money for) and Islam, the battle isn’t over yet.

Had no one invited Barbra to join Nicole Kidman, Michael Douglas, Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis and 76 other Hollywood hot shots and lend her name to a full-page newspaper ad condemning the civilian casualties in Israel and Lebanon caused by Hamas and Hezbollah?  Just asking.

Maybe the so-called “War on Terror” was too closely linked with Babs’s own personal Taliban, the Bush administration.  In 2006, the singer cancelled a performance in Jerusalem for an event honoring the 60th anniversary of the Jewish state.  Streisand offered no reason why she bowed out, but the Israeli newspaper Maariv quoted unidentified officials who suggested she had changed her mind because President George W. Bush was planning to visit at the same time.

A diva of her stature could shed plenty of light on the new wave of anti-Semitism sweeping the globe and on the millions of people still living in the dark shadow of militant Islam.  That’s a Streisand effect I’d like to see.  But maybe that’s too much to ask from the self-proclaimed feminist who reportedly demands that fresh rose petals be scattered in her toilet bowl when she’s on the road.  Then again, maybe she’s just scared (you can’t sing very well if you lose your head – literally).

Finally, in December 2008, Babs came face-to-face with her longtime nemesis - the war-mongering Leader of the Free World she hailed as ”frightening” – at the Kennedy Center Honors.  But “W’ turned out to be far from the monster she’d been fantasizing about for so many years.

As she confessed on her website: “It was just as surprising to me, as it apparently was to the press, that upon meeting President Bush and extending my hand to him, he said to me, ‘Aw c’mon, gimme a hug and a kiss,’ and then he proceeded to embrace me…. I must say, I found him very warm and completely disarming… even though I think he was kissing me hello as I was kissing him goodbye.” 

Still, Streisand couldn’t resist getting in one last dig about his wink (”which he must have passed on to Sarah Palin”).  Did she ever stop to consider just how many of her die-hard fans probably voted for the man?

Having avoided the hyper-immortality that comes with junkiedom and early death – that kind that keeps Garland, Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf selling records from beyond the grave - Barbara Joan Streisand, formerly of Brooklyn, has instead blossomed into a healthy, wealthy high priestess of a new Democratic regime that’s no longer of the working people (unless they’re “undocumented,” of course), but serves mostly to soothe the collective guilty conscious of the Oprah class.

What’s the saying?  “Old limousine liberals never die, they just fade away.”  (The real Marie Antoinette didn’t have that option.)  Celebrities today are the vanguard in a new kind of bourgeois revolution – the real downside of capitalism run amok.

Barbra Streisand is now just another privileged star whose work – like that of Rosie O’Donnell, Tina Fey, and 9/11 Truther Christine Ebersole - this gay fan, for one, can no longer enjoy.  Because once a performer, no matter how great, trades in the stage for the pretentious platform of liberal evangelism, there’s no coming back.  The peasants aren’t that forgiving.

But thanks for the memories.

Walking past the outdoor patio of a gay club just the other night, I noticed all the patrons’ heads turned in the same direction, transfixed by an image on the big video screen inside.  It was Streisand, belting out the the final scene of On a Clear Day – still fresh, vibrant, powerful.  Nearly four decades later, that nostalgic clip of the amazing 28-year-old misfit could still silence a room.

That’s the way I choose to remember her.

Major General David Blackledge is not a superhero. He’s a human hero. 

In February of 2004, Major General Blackledge’s convoy was ambushed in Iraq. The interpreter, who was sitting next to him, was shot through the head. Taking fire, the vehicle rolled. But the survivors were able to escape. He sustained a broken back and ribs, with other injuries requiring eleven months of recovery and physical therapy.  

Fifteen months after the ambush, Major General Blackledge was deployed back to Iraq. While in Amman, Jordan for meetings, he was in one of three popular hotels that were struck by terrorist bombs. The explosions killed over 55 people and injured over 110. He suffered a neck injury. 

On the way to Arlington….

Major General Blackledge has demonstrated his courage during three combat tours (he also fought in the Persian Gulf War). He has been awarded five Bronze Star Medals as well as the two Purple Hearts he received for combat injuries. 

Major General Blackledge also has shown courage on a different front. He has been open about his struggles with post-traumatic stress after both incidents in which he was wounded. He’s the first U.S. Army general to acknowledge suffering nightmares, flashbacks and a short attention span.  

Because of his bravery, other soldiers have been empowered to step forward and talk about their experiences. He helped to erase the stigma.  

Major General Blackledge participated in the Road 2 Recovery’s recent “Don’t Mess With Texas Challenge” to support injured members of the military who have given so much to their country. The ride began at the Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio and finished 345 miles later at the Texas Rangers’ Ameriquest Field in Arlington. 

 
Riding with the USO’s Jeff Hill

“Road 2 Recovery provides our wounded warriors an opportunity to set challenging goals and then meet or exceed them within a supportive environment,” said Major General Blackledge, who is now Assistant Deputy Chief of Staff for Mobilization and Reserve Affairs. “The extended, multi-day rides like the Texas Challenge re-create conditions that military members are accustomed to, such as accomplishing a difficult mission as a team and the bonding that occurs from sharing a common experience together.

“An aspect of the long rides that I totally underestimated was the overwhelming support, generosity and gratefulness demonstrated by the local communities and veterans organizations. Participants come away with a greater sense of their own inner strength and capabilities, they learn to focus on possibilities rather than limitations and they gain a greater appreciation that they are not alone. The Road 2 Recovery program is truly uplifting and life-affirming.”

 
Throwing out the first pitch

Major General Blackledge pedaled his Jamis cyclocross bike, which has a steel frame and a little wider tires than a traditional road bike to give him more cushioning because of the lingering effects of his combat injuries.

Although he only recently received medical clearance to get back on a bike, Major General Blackledge welcomed the opportunity to offer encouragement and hope to soldiers who suffer post-traumatic stress with his first-hand story of recovery. 

“Hey, I’ve been through this. I’m not just telling you something that I’ve read off slides or a pamphlet. This is something I’ve experienced. It’s important to come forward if you’ve got these issues. No one should have to deal with this on their own. The help is there. This is no longer a mystery. The medical and psychological practitioners know how to get you through this and help you out.”

He said “Road 2 Recovery recognizes that bicycling does wonders for those with psychological injuries. I’m hoping through this program and others, we can get this message out. These are wounded warriors just like the ones with physical wounds. This will help them heal.” 

Major General Blackledge, who has a quiet, but strong demeanor, was raised in a family with a rich tradition of military service. His father retired after 30 years in the U.S. Army. His grandfather, who served with General Douglas MacArthur, was captured by the Japanese at Bataan and died in a slave labor camp.  

Major General Blackledge is the proud father of three daughters. His wife, Iwona, an officer in the U.S. Air Force, has also served two tours in Iraq as a critical care nurse. 

An avid cyclist, Major General Blackledge was one of the founders of the West Point Cycling Club. He also has competed in triathlons and the American Birkebeiner, a grueling 54-kilometer cross-country ski race in Wisconsin. 

“There’s just something magical about being on a bicycle,” he said. “Maybe it goes back to when you’re a kid and you first learn to ride a bike. You feel a sense of freedom. That feeling just stays with you.”

Story by Sharon Raboin

For more Info see: TheRoad2Recovery.org, and join us on Facebook