"This is a CRAAAAA-zy city," Carol Burnett said Saturday night in her Q&A; session at a packed Lyric Opera House.

By that point, the beloved TV icon must have felt she had wandered into auditions for a John Waters movie, having just confronted a woman, talking a mile a minute, who insisted on coming up onstage to show off the pedicure she had received for the occasion. Throughout the evening, several folks who managed to get called on added assorted notes of oddity to the proceedings, including one who asked: "Would you say 'hi' to my mother, who is sitting next to me, and my father, who is dead?" Others insisted on talking about themselves, rather than asking questions, and shamelessly begging for backstage photo ops or other favors.

You had to wonder after a while how many people came to see and hear Carol Burnett, one of the most richly gifted comedians to grace screen or stage, and how many came to claim some sort of ownership of her. (In the lobby, before the program began, it was hard not to notice that quite a few attendees, with no evident attempt at imitation, suggested characters from skits on the famed "Carol Burnett Show," including at least one Stella Toddler.)

Still, Burnett was a class act all the way through, handling the out-of-left-fielders with as much finesse as the few interesting questioners. She seemed truly touched by the prolonged standing ovation that greeted her entrance - she complimented Baltimore for being "a friendly city," too - and appeared to enjoy reminiscing about her old variety show that left such a striking mark on the television landscape.

Burnett stepped to the side of the stage periodically to play some clips from that show, and the crowd laughed anew, as if seeing Starlet O'Hara's curtain-dress or Tim Conway breaking up Harvey Korman for the first time. Curiously, Burnett did not choose any excerpts from the "Mama's Family" skits, which were easily among the show's most brilliant and affecting creations.

Even allowing for the strange and uncomfortable moments generated from the house, it was rewarding to be in Burnett's presence, hearing that unmistakable voice (yes, she did the obligatory Tarzan yell - very heartily, too, for someone who turns 77 this month), seeing those colorful facial expressions.

Of course, the event reiterated what we're missing on TV today. Asked what she would change about the medium (not all the questions were pathetic), Burnett replied, "I'd have fewer reality shows." It's disheartening to know we live in an age when Burnett's comic genius, consummate professionalism and disarming humility would probably not even get her past the front door of most TV networks now.

But it sure felt wonderful, for those 90 minutes at the Lyric Saturday night, to relive some great memories with the extraordinary woman who generated them.