My Not-So-Funny Valentine

Finally, I have an understanding of Barbara Streisand and her, so she describes it “art.” Yesterday after an apparently uncomfortably long, pun-filled, mildly humorous skit between Streisand and a bumbling Bush impersonator, one audience heckler was fed up and expressed his/her feelings by shouting them. Streisand replied by screaming, "Shut the (expletive deleted) up! Shut up if you can't take a joke!" To which the baffled heckler replied, “That was a joke?”

Her outburst effectively stopped further complaints from the fan who paid at least $250, evidently expecting singing without interruption by amateurish politically charged comedy skits. Streisand apologized for erupting like Dick Cheney on the floor of the Senate, and commented that, "the artist's role is to disturb."

Upon reading about the incident I had an Oprah “light bulb” moment of momentous proportions. I now understand Streisand’s “art,” because I’ve always been deeply disturbed by her music.

A diva loosing her cool on stage may seem to be an inconsequential tidbit in the scheme of things, but I’m certain it is only the first F-Bomb to be deployed in the current battle between Democrats and Republicans to seriously harm the mental health of the American Citizenry (and the Citizenship Challenged) in the carnage of the upcoming November elections. Score one for Liberals.