This is a column about a diva. We don’t have enough diva’s anymore, not in the bigger-than-a-story kind of way. Today’s crop of names like Mariah and Beyonce and Rihanna and Khardashian are only minor specks in the firmament of divas, hardly worth our interest. Only the unfortunately named Lady Gaga has anything resembling the star-power of divas past. There is no one today like a Barbra, or a Bette, or a Mae, or a Chita, or even, a Cher. Or, a Liza. Liza is where this column begins.