What an incredible experience.  Liza fractured her spine last week and still showed up.  She had to sit the whole time which was more disappointing to her, I think, than us.  Michael Feinstein sang for us, then Liza came out and, as promised, they conversed and sang.  When one of her shoes slipped off she just kicked off the other one and there we were, in her living room.  

There were some wonderful montages of her, Judy Garland and Vincent Minelli’s films (apparently the bucket list never ends.  There are a few I haven’t seen and a few I want to see again.  Never realized he directed one of my perennial favorites – Brigadoon.). Liza sang a few songs, starting with “Yes” – so appropriate for anyone who has broken her back and still showed up, or anyone who is alive, or for this girl who is retired and saying “yes” to more than she can fit on her plate- oh well!.  She sang only about five or six songs and how lucky that she sang one  I’ve been singing in my living room since I was a teenager “What Did I Have?” from On a Clear Day.  Time to pull that one out for public performance.  She has such a delightful sense of humor and put a perfectly timed spin on the song, throwing in a kick or two from her chair. Note to physical therapist self: she still has amazing hamstring flexibility.

She talked about how she “knew I couldn’t sing” but “I can act.” She spoke of meeting Kander and Ebb who ended up writing so many songs for her including “New York, New York,” who told her something along the lines of “just sing songs that speak to you, and the audience will respond.” And they got busy writing those songs.   Another favorite they wrote for her which I have sung in performance: “Maybe This Time” which was written before Cabaret but fit Sally Bowles so perfectly it was included.

Perhaps that is why I have always loved Liza.   The songs she sang are the songs I want to sing.    They speak to me. I wear my heart on my sleeve, everyone knows this.  Listening to her talk last night, I know that she may be able to sing and dance and act all right, but her essential appeal comes from the fact that she wears a full body jumpsuit covered in hearts.   From her “aww- there’s Momma!” comments when Judy came up on the screen to her thanking the crowd profusely throughout the evening, she’s a sweetheart through and through.

Al smiled at me when she and Michael closed with the final verse of “New York, New York” and he looked over to see tears streaming down my face and the waterworks took over when she walked off the stage, her body looking more like one of my geriatric patients than Sally Bowles, but her smile and grace and energy and charisma made me weep.  I wanted to scream “don’t go!”

I knew I was not going to  see her perform like she did back in the day, but I just wanted to be in the same room, breathe the same air.   What I didn’t expect to walk away with was a master class in what this short life requires for fulfillment.

Say yes.