Was That A Protest....Or A Peace Rally?

Since the election of president-elect Donald Trump, the United States seems to be going through...a lot. Liberal media boasting that there was no way Trump could win, and that “Hillary has it in the bag” convinced most of the country that our next leader would be our first female president.

Clearly, that’s not what happened. But as the country is spinning in circles scratching it’s head pondering “how did this happen?” what IS happening concurrently, has the media in a frenzy and the rest of us splitting further and further from one another. Protests, riots, over turned cars and flag burnings. The midwest and south seem to be experiencing messages of hate and entitlement from Trump supporters who feel it is okay to name call and regress from social progress because “this is Trump’s America.”

Admittedly, I woke on Wednesday morning, feeling defeated, afraid and helpless. My Facebook feed was full of statuses of grief, shock, and anger. Protesting had already started. Hate was spewing from every screen. This was the worst feeling and I knew I was not alone.

That was the secret, I discovered. I am not alone. I should stop worrying so much about the things I cannot change, and take action in the things I can. Right?! So, I cannot change the electoral college. But, I can tell someone that I will stick up for them no matter what. I can show my support for the LGBTQ community and purchase goods and services from their stores. I can help immigrants by helping them decipher a map or a sign. I can prove that Latinos and the black community are important by speaking up when another person uses derogatory language. I can write messages in chalk on the sidewalk in my neighborhood letting them all know we will be OK and that everyone of us is loved and important.

Today, (Saturday 11/12) I awoke to a live feed on Facebook of thousands of protesters in Downtown LA. The media has made these protests seem violent. Fellow Republican friends make these protests seem unnecessary, too soon, and that the people marching are “whiny little bitches.” I wanted to see for myself. For a couple reasons, really. 1, Who doesn’t like to see a little drama (hello ‘reality’ tv), and 2, how many times do you get to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself?

However, I have felt uncomfortable with the language these protesters were using. #HesNotMyPresident and #DumpTrump seemed to ignore the fact that this was actually happening. I don’t like it because I understand that turning my back on him will not accomplish anything. Rather, it will only makes things worse because my side will never be heard.

My best friend and I made signs to carry at the protest filled with love. I really felt people needed to know that everything was going to be OK! We wrote out in bright colors,  “Free Smiles,” “Free High-Fives,” “Free Hugs,” and “United In Love” to help people realize that this may be happening and as long as we stick together, everything will be just that...ok.

We walked the mile to the subway station and rode into downtown, smiles on our faces and curiosity in our hearts.

What I wasn’t prepared for (besides the INSANE amount of walking...I wore chucks...bad choice) were the amount of people that just wanted to talk. I listened intently to their stories of shock and fear and how their mama’s raised them to be gentlemen. They told me about where they went to school, how they got to Los Angeles, and their confusion of lack of leadership in these protests.

But, when we finally reached the City Hall, there were police officers lining the top of the steps making sure things stayed calm. There were more onlookers across the street taking photos and people watching. Protesters gathered in a big circle listening to speakers discuss how to stay united. They spewed off organizations that support the groups that were most afraid of the leader-to-be. Onlookers and other activists stood by with signs that said “Electoral College Reform,” “LGBTQ Equality,” “Love Trumps Hate,”  and “Better Together.” People that asked for a hug whispered in my ear that it was a tough week and that that hug was the best part of their day. My response? “Pay it forward.”

People of all colors and religions marched in circles following the news helicopters to find the big crowd. They stopped on street corners, shared jokes, and laughed. They exchanged Instagram accounts. Dammit, they even took selfies.

It dawned on me that the people here were not expecting a revote, or for Trump to step down. Everyone came out because they were afraid in one capacity or another. Nobody wants to feel afraid and alone.

This was not a protest in Downtown Los Angeles today. This was a peace rally. A reminder to everyone that their fear must not consume them, rather, it should push them forward into conversations with someone else who does not look like them and get a little bit of understanding of how this beautiful world turns.

I went to this protest thinking I was going to see fighting, pushing, yelling, chanting and a lot of anger. I was delightfully surprised to see instead, that love was all around. It was in the signs, the speakers, the conversations and in those hugs that people desperately needed.

As I hang up the computer to go rub my sore feet before a stand up showcase show tonight, may I leave you with two thoughts?

One, if you aren’t sure about what you are reading or seeing, go look it up for yourself. This is painful to admit as I am part of “the media,” but the media really does a terrible job of giving you context or the full scope of news and news coverage.

Two, name calling only makes things worse. If you can’t have a discussion in real life or online with someone without calling them a: racist, biggot, misogynist, facist, uneducated, whiny, meaningless, stupid, or any derogatory name that you wouldn’t call your grandmother, then walk away until you are ready to listen as much as you talk.

Please, my Trump supporting friends, half of the country is still grieving. However silly you think these peace rallies and protests are, please know that they are helping us grieve and get to a point of acceptance.
I, for one, am sorry I missed something. Everyone at that peace rally missed it. Something very important. I implore you to fill the rest of us in. Calmly, and with a steady heart, discuss what it is you see in our president-elect. We want to stand with you; for two is always better than one.

If these aren't faces of hope and love...then I don't know what is!

Expanding my musical education, the Youngbloods "Get Together" embody exactly what I hope for in the country. Get together, try and love one another., however that looks to you. Volunteer, peace rallies, helping an old woman down the steps, reading to children, smile at a stranger...the little things add up. Just. Stick. Together. 

An Open Letter To My Birth Daughter And The Man Who Judged That Relationship

Last night, I met a man for dinner. This was not our first evening together laughing, joking, telling stories, and eating toys we thought were candy. He is handsome, easy to talk to and fun to dream with. The problem is that he disappears for days at a time. I thought our summer romance had dwindled and I let it go. Disappointed, I did the emotional work to move on.

Last night, there was an opportunity to meet this man for dinner; I had every intention of figuring out what happened, where he disappears to for days at a time, and why he says things like “I miss you” while on a guys trip in South America.

I finally got the courage to ask why he treated me so poorly during our evening and his response was a really ugly part of the human condition I haven't experienced in a while. He told me that because of my decision to place my daughter for adoption, he couldn’t see a long term relationship with me, but, loves spending time with me and wants to do so on a casual level. He explained that he feels like I abandoned my daughter and just gave up the most precious gift. His own experience with his mom who was 19 when she was pregnant with him was the sole basis of his judgement of my decision. She worked 3 jobs to take care of him and put his needs before her own. He said that my decision to place my daughter for adoption made it seem like I just abandoned her.

“Are you mad?” he asked. “No.” I replied. “Those are your feelings and you are entitled to them. They aren’t wrong, they are just feelings.” I spent the next 15 minutes discussing motherhood and how tough that decision was for me. I told him how I put her needs above mine to give her a life I could never provide. I explained why women like me are important in the world. I talked about how mothering is probably the toughest job in the world and how it looks different for everyone.  I told him the kids that are in my life get to ask questions they would otherwise be too embarrassed to ask their moms or single dads (not realizing I share with them 99% of the time anyway). Mothering is the most selfless job in the world and my decision was the first, most important motherly decision I’ve ever had to make.

He wanted to still continue to see each other on a casual basis or at the very least still be friends. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry,” I said. He walked me to the door, kissed me passionately and then I left. No more words. My left eye swelled up a bit with tears. I walked to my car and drove away screaming with the windows rolled up.

I’ve never felt more judged, used, relieved and proud of myself all at the same time. Judged because that decision had nothing to do with him and rather than try and understand what that experience was like, I was just dismissed. Used because he was going to continue to string me along and surface when he felt like having some fun female companionship. Relieved because it is over and I now know what the hell happened. Proud because I stood up for myself and was able to say exactly what I needed in the moment I needed to say it.

This experience was a reminder that there is still work to be done regarding educating people on what mothering looks like. People still don’t know about all of the options regarding pregnancy. Pregnancy does not mean you have to abort or keep it, rather, you can abort, keep it, place the baby for adoption (open or closed), co-parent with your own parents, let the father parent the child, or the father’s family parent the child. None of these choices are wrong. They all have consequences that the decision maker(s) must live with but these are choices that only the people in the situation can make. To be judged (eight years later) for any of these choices is not a me problem, it’s a him problem.

To my beautiful birth daughter,

Please remember, when someone judges you for the choices you make, it is because they do not understand your journey. Only you can do what is best for you and no one needs to understand but you.

Stand up for yourself but, be kind to those who are inquisitive and want to understand. These are the people who are trying to make the world a more accepting place. Without smart, patient people like you to explain what it’s like to be you or have your experiences, the world will never grow.

I celebrate you often! I am proud of who you are and look forward to continue to watch you grow from afar.

Love always,

Your ever growing-increasingly patient birth mom

To the man I saw last night,

Thank you for the much needed reminder that I have a lot of work to do regarding educating people and young women about all of the decisions that you have to make when you get pregnant unexpectedly. I fully intend to take our experience and talk to young women faced with tough decisions, inspire them and comfort them. Sometimes I forget that I have a powerful voice and that I need to use it. So thank you for that.

You let someone pretty amazing walk out of your life last night. I hope I left you with some wonderful life gifts anyway.

Eternally grateful,

A woman refusing to accept your judgement

Bonnie Rait "I Can't Make You Love Me"

I chose this song because you can't make someone want to be with you. I can only be myself, bright, bubbly, and beautiful, baggage and all. Hopefully some day I will be loved and appreciated for everything I am and stand for. I am a woman who makes mistakes, learns from them and grows, and a person who gives with everything she's got. 

Stand United Ladies:A Response To Trump & All The Other Creeps

After carefully thinking about Donald Trump and his lewd comments about women, I have many thoughts and concerns. First of all, what he said is disgusting. There’s no debate. Billy Bush was just as bad. However, what they said was meant to be in private. Anyone that tells you they have never said anything that nasty in private is lying or a damn Saint. I’m as guilty and perverted as they come.

I am not condoning what Trump did or said because he is a presidential candidate and should be held to a higher standard, but, there is something to the old addage, “Actions speak louder than words.” What Billy Bush did next on camera, forcing that woman to give Donald a hug after the conversation they just had makes it clear that Billy Bush believed everything Trump said on the bus and that that kind of talk and behavior was okay. It isn’t okay.

Next, whomever recorded and released that audio of Donald Trump and Billy Bush should also be fired. That audio was never meant to be recorded and that person is just as guilty as the rest of them as far as sexually harrassing and objectifying women.

Now that more information has come out about Donald and the women claiming they were sexually assaulted by the presidential candidate makes me believe that he too believes that he is so famous he can just grab whatever body part on a woman he wants because….money and power buys everything. What world does he live in?

Money and power don’t buy everything. In fact, the events that happened to me today, made me realize that women are not united and too many of us just put up with this kind of behavior because it’s easier, or because we don’t recognize the bullshit when we see it or perhaps we lack the confidence to stand up for ourselves and each other.

Today, I was invited I to perform on the set of a Public Access TV show for an upcoming Halloween special. I wore my Mario Bros hat, suspenders, big cartoon hands and asked everyone to call me “Maggio!” So clever, right?

I watch my friend The Burrito Lady get up and perform her material. Super saucy as she weaved in social stereotypes and other bullshit Mexican commentary. She nailed it! I was so proud of her.

Then it was my turn. I was nervous because I thought we had to be squeaky clean. I take the stage, sound check and I’m off. I told the  few clean jokes I knew but hadn’t told in a while. I flubbed up, but made jokes at myself. I actually really enjoyed the experience and made people laugh while telling mostly clean jokes about Fall, Apple picking and Facebook. At the close of my set, one of the hosts of the show said “Turn Around!” It was very clear to me that all they wanted was to see my ass. “No! I’m not doing that. It’s weird,” I explained and left the stage. This isn’t the first time I’ve been put in a position to showcase what men find to be the most important of talents.

Standing around and looking good is not a talent

The Burrito Lady and I sat around waiting to come back on for an interview. We were called in and took our seats across from the host who was covered in a mask for the Halloween episode. He asked Burrito Lady about her burritos and the open mics she runs. He told her that he can’t call her a “Lady” because she is so ‘naughty,’ reffering to her set. Which, yes, was a bit naughty, but he forgets these were jokes pointing out ridiculous racial stereotypes. He must have forgotten that these were jokes. She politely smiled.

The host turns to me and starts asking about my start in comedy and explain about my involvement with the first ever “CU Comedy Fest,” and how the lack of female performers in the festival drove me to sign up for my first open mic. The host then said to me, “You know why there weren’t many female performers? Because women aren’t funny.”

I stood up and began to walk off set.

“It’s a joke, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he shouts after me. The Burrito Lady had invited me to be a part of this, so for her sake, I sat back down, forced the smile and thought “five more minutes...hang on for five more minutes.” I thought that it couldn’t get any worse. Boy, was I wrong.

Later in the interview, I was describing something about my ex-husband when another talent off screen asks “How many ex-husbands do you have?”  “One?” I reply. “Oh, but you’re good and loose now, right?”  I took a breath and simply said, “Every single one of you is worse than Trump. You are all worse than Trump.”

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. We wrapped up the interview, I removed the suspenders and hat and waited for The Burrito Lady to walk to the parking lot. “This happens all the time,” she dismissed.

“But, it shouldn’t. It doesn’t have to.”

The entire experience was awkward. It was awful. My take away was that I was proud of myself for being able to recognize the bullshit when it happened, and had the courage to call it out. It was gross. I felt gross. Like everything I worked for in there was only important if my ass looked good. If you couldn’t say it to your mom or your sister or your wife, don’t say it.

This happens all the time. People say stupid, lewd shit. But for some reason, we, as women, are afraid to call it out.

Another time, I went to a bar with a girlfriend to watch football and enjoy a frosty beverage. Near the end of the game, a few gentlemen sat down next to us and we struck up a conversation about football, our favorite teams, players and fantasy football. When one guy found out my friend was a 49ers fan he said, “I like 49ers fans because they are all really sexual.” I saw the look on my friend’s face and replied, “That’s really inappropriate.” We got up and left. She told me later that she really appreciated me stepping up to say something and that she is working on having the confidence to stand up for herself and her girlfriends in that way.

It’s a damn shame that more of us don’t have the confidence to stand up for each other, let alone ourselves. Ladies….we owe nothing to anyone. But, we do owe it to ourselves to stop this crap in it’s tracks. If you can’t stick up for yourself just yet, stick up for your friends. No one, deserves to be talked to or treated like they are unworthy of existing other than to be a sexual toy.

My only regret is that there was a time when I made some nasty comments in private, joking about sex and race. Thank god they were in private. Thank god I've had a few friends call me out about it. I have apologized and could never act on those behaviors, but joking about it is certainly the first step towards action. Which is why, we need to start calling each other out when someone makes disgusting comments. Stand by the men in life who get it and never let go. Because once we stop treating each other as objects or possessions that can be categorized...just imagine all of the beautiful things we can make. That is a world I'd like to see. That is the world I want to live in.

Couldn't think of a more appropriate song. Stand up and be "Brave," and say what you want to say! Say it for your sister, your mom, your best friend, for yourself.

To Mark And Kelly!

I used to think that sitting at home alone on a Friday night might be the worst thing imaginable. The idea of being by myself with the freedome to do/eat/sing/watch/say/write whatever I wanted was scary. As if being alone made me a loser, unworthy of friendship or love. Like I didn't work hard enough for people to want to be around me.

Well, sitting at home alone on a Friday night isn't the worst thing imaginable. It's not the worst thing possible. In fact, it's not even that scary any more. The worst, is sitting at home, knowing that one of my most cherished friends got married today and I can't be there to support them and celebrate!

Mark And I at a house party circa 2003

My dear friend, Mark and I met almost 14 years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly became buds. We were roommates for a long time after he bought his first house. I was living the dream in the beginning stages of my radio career and he was climbing the corporate ladder for a local grocery chain.

Mark and I the day he told me "I found The One!" March 2015

I would get up to go to work and Mark would be outside, just getting home from an overnight management shift, beer in one hand, lawn mower in the other. He is one of the hardest working people I know. I mean, I worked hard, but I played just as hard. Mark was always my moral compass but never judgemental. Compassionate and curious and seemingly always worried. Mark, is the best kind of friend to have. The kind of person whose friendship you protect, whatever the cost.

Today, Mark married his best friend, and I missed it. The worst thing (to me right now) is the overwhelming sadness that I cannot be physically close to a very important person to celebrate this remarkable beginning with him and his amazing new wife. SO, I do what I do best, and send all my love and well wishes to you both this happy happy weekend and write about the rest.

To Mark And Kelly!

I remember watching the two meet at another very important person's wedding. They walked down the aisle together. They laughed as they shared a motorcycle ride for photos. They talked and danced all night. He comforted his new crush when she received news of her very sick dog back home. They didn't know it yet, but this was love.

To Mark And Kelly!

I remember Mark making a trip across the country for work and having stopped in the town where I lived in Illinois. I took him to dinner; we enjoyed burgers and beer while laughing and sharing stories. I was happy to sit across from a piece of my past; then the words just spilled out of his mouth, "I'm in love with her. I'm gonna marry that girl." She didn't know it yet, but this was love.

To Mark And Kelly!

I remember the first photos appearing on Facebook. Building memories together, watching them both travel back and forth across the country to be together. I can only imagine the late night phone calls they shared, the dreams, the hopes, the compliments. I was delighted to see Kelly found a job near where Mark lived! A man I struggled through young adulthood with, found a woman that made him realize just how special of a human he really is. They both surely knew it now, this is love.

To Mark And Kelly!

I watched you, beautiful Kelly, walk down the aisle today (thank you Facebook Live). The look on Mark's face, the look of excitement was childlike as if he couldn't help himself for you. The ceremony that was full of beautiful words and inside jokes let everyone know what you two figured out a long time ago. This, is true love.

To Mark And Kelly!

May you grow together, learn from one another, fight fairly, and laugh every day. I look forward to watching you build a life full of hope and happiness as your partnership continues to develop and you fall deeper in love. Cheers to Mark And Kelly!

For the rest of us sitting at home alone of a Friday night, let's never miss an opportunity to tell someone how important they are to you. Better yet, given the chance...show them!

To Mark And Kelly! May you count on each other like this for always. I couldn't be there in the flesh to support and love you both, but I was and am there in spirit.

To the rest of my family, friends, and fans, you are so important to me for so many different reasons. Remember, you are never alone on a Friday night. Thank you for reading and enjoy the remaining of your evening.

LA's Subliminal Message: GTFO

When I first got to Los Angeles, people would cynically tell me, “Oh, give it time, you’ll become jaded,” or “You’re so new here, of course you love it...now.” I’d secretly hate them and vow to never stop thinking about this land of opportunity I call home. I work here, I play here, I drink sweet potato coffee here. (That is a real thing and it’s better than pumpkin spice, I swear!)

The last few weeks, I’ve come down with a minor case of the blues. Not sure there is a real reason. I’ve just  felt uninspired, unmotivated, and quite frankly, a little hopeless. I haven’t wanted to write jokes. I haven’t wanted to sit through an open mic. It became easier to wake up and run 5 miles then binge watch episodes of “Shameless” until it is time to go to work. I have barely even worked at promoting my voice over business. (Which, is going really well...so I can’t even imagine how much MORE work I could get if I spent some time marketing myself again. All I can do is say “Thanks, past Maggi. You really busted your butt to help me out this month!”)

I know these minor blues never seem to last too long. In fact, my desire to create something has been bubbling under the surface for a few days. I’ve tampered with writing a new joke. I’ve written a few journal entries. But it doesn’t seem like enough. The craving to create hasn’t been satiated. So I decided to go for one of my famous photography walks. A long walk to clear my brain and just let the city inspire me.

Even The Flowers Try To Escape

During my 3 mile loop this evening, I found myself shooting a noticeably depressing pattern. Fences, gates, trespassing signs. “NO” came up a lot this evening. It dawned on me that LA, the place I call home, may have been subliminally telling me “NO” and “Get Out” this whole time. Everything has fences. Everything is locked away telling passersby to steer clear. It’s been in my face this whole time “You aren’t welcome here.” No wonder I’ve been feeling down. My city doesn’t want me!

Safe Trash

I mean, even the trash cans have fences. Does our trash need to feel safe? What do we need to feel safe from? The mountains of couches and forgotten furniture on the curb?

Here’s the thing, how could I encounter so many polite people this evening in a place so seemingly negative.  I crossed paths with nothing but, “hello’s,” “have a great night’s,” “what’s up,” and “My dog is friendly.” Is no one else affected by LA’s hint to “move along?”  Or, are we all passively noticing and just trying to make the best of it?

Questions circled my brain all evening. Is everyone an onlooker? Is anyone doing anything? Are we all just outsiders looking in? Is this why my comedian counterparts hate the people here? Our environment has been poisoning us with messages of negativity, whispering “You don’t belong here” or “this place is too good for you.” It’s no wonder everyone is so jaded here.

Outside Looking In

NO Playing Outside

It’s also no wonder that I’ve made some of the best relationships here. People who are warm, kind, generous in spirit and creative. My hypothesis? These people don’t see the blockades. They are too busy looking for the open window.

God Closes A Door, Somewhere He Opens A Window

 "Come To My Window" Melissa Etheridge
I chose this song because of this lyric: "You don't know how far I'd go to ease this precious ache, and you don't know how much I'd give, or how much I can take."
I'll look for the window of opportunity. And really, how much can I give? How much can I take? A lot. Just you wait Los Angeles. I'll crawl through that window and make it my 'b.' You'll see.










If you don't already, follow me on Twitter, Facebook or Snapchat @maggiontheradio for daily hilariousness.

What The Heck Am I Doing, Barbara Streisand?!

Tonight, I had the pleasure I witnessing a true legacy perform onstage. Barbara Streisand. A woman who has made a career out of being herself, knowing what she wants and never wavering. She is an original feminist. A loud Democrat. Phenomenal singer. Effervescent.

Truthfully, I didn’t know much about her going into the show. I felt like, she was just one of those “must-see” acts in our lifetime. Barbara really truly was/is a must see. Her “show” was pretty simplistic. A screen lit up a few images behind her, an amazing orchestra, and her voice. Her big voice.

I sat through most of this show wondering if in her 50 years as a performer, if she ever felt like I do; questioning every move I make and wondering if it’s enough. Am I doing enough?

Something strange has happened lately; I’m trying very hard not to beat myself up over it. I’ve grown shy of getting onstage to perform stand up. It’s too difficult because every open mic I have my soul crushed by other comics that don't care about anything anyone else is saying onstage. There is no comradery, no support, no fun. And I question why I am putting myself through this kind of lukewarm torture. I am letting myself settle into the things I know and understand--creating radio and working on my voice over business because it’s easy and comfortable and I’m successful at those things.

I sat through the show wondering if Barbara too, ever felt terrified of the very thing she wanted to do. If she ever questioned why she is doing it. Because I am terrified. I lost sight of what exactly my end goals are. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’d like a hole to crawl into now. Preferably close enough for pizza delivery but far enough away that no one would willingly make the trek out, even on a Sunday morning with no traffic.

But, after her show, I felt so inspired by her stories of her career that I came home and wrote 4 new stand up bits and several more jokes. The months of writer’s block...gone! I didn’t for one second wonder “Why are you writing this?” I just did what felt good and made me happy to stay awake until 2:30 am.

Are the jokes any good? I don’t know. I’ll try them out at an open mic next week. I’d even stretch to say I’m excited to try them out. The problem really is, I just forgot what the hell this is all for. Why do I want to perform stand up? What’s the end goal? How are any of the things I’m doing going to help me get there?

I just don’t know right now and that has to be okay. Is it the money? Hello no. None of this pays anything. Is it the fame? Maybe a little. Do I feel better when I've created something, inspired by a personal truth? Absolutely. The better part is when someone else connects with it. When someone says my words motivated them to do xyz...now THAT is the best feeling.

Can’t I just get paid to be creative? Can’t I just get paid to share my life and maybe help a few people along the way?

The answer is yes. I can. WIll performing stand up, writing sketches or hosting podcasts help with any of that? Maybe. I suppose. I don't know. But this is my path. No one else can pave it for me. These are the things that make me happy, albeit difficult sometimes. The heart ache, the self doubt, the endless curiousity, and painful uncovering of my past, the late nights, tough discussions and critiques….that’s the stuff you don’t see. What you see...is the finished product. The perfectly tailored 5 minute stand up bit. The 2 ½ minute sketch I wrote. The planned, inspirational blog post.

The point is, let’s stop beating ourselves up for living our lives. Not everyday is going to be the most focused, or full of creative genius writing, or great stand up sets. Barbara Streisand just got up every day and did what she loved. Whatever her passion project was that day. (You don’t become an EGOT winner without loving and doing lots of things!)

So to answer my own question, “Am I doing enough?” Most of the time, probably. Did Barbara ever have those feelings? I’d say most definitely. But she pushed through the doubt because she lived her life. Fully and passionately. We have to love life. Because, creativity is sparked by the people we are surrounded by. They can fuel your self discovery. Which may have been exactly what Barbra Streisand was saying this evening. “Be a person who needs people....For those are the luckiest people of all.”

From the Movie "Funny Girl" her signature song People

She had a mind reader, Babyface, Seth MacFarlane, and Jamie Foxx all join her onstage at some point, and I really thought to myself "Wow. Anything is possible." If you get a chance to see her perform, take it. She truly is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.