Insert Foot thinks Rolling Stone was right about Celine Dion.

I have a great Dick Clark story that I’ve been waiting for an excuse to tell. But let me set it up properly:

There was a big protest full of angry people this week in New York City. Which happens in this great big red, white and blue republic of ours. Peaceful protest is a beautiful thing, despite what certain reprehensible fascists would have you believe when it’s not in their best interests.

These protestors brought signs exclaiming they drove all night to be there. They demanded justice for their cause. Most came from Canada, which is still OK. They were probably protesting very politely.

Their cause: Rolling Stone magazine didn’t put Celine Dion in its top 200 list of the best singers ever.

Now, understand RS loves that people are protesting and writing about it. That’s why they make lists—to stir things up and try being relevant.

I won’t get into my issues with the list (of course I will). Courtney Love (130) is 17 spots higher than Barbra Streisand (147) and Ariana Grande (43) is one spot higher than James Brown. Seriously? Beyonce finished higher (8?) than Otis Redding (9, but should’ve been 1), Elvis (17), Frank Sinatra (19), and Marvin Gaye (20). No Madonna (not a great singer, but as far as impact? C’mon!) and Janis Joplin at 78? I didn’t see Ann Wilson on the list which, if true, should prompt some sort of congressional investigation.

I did, however, love the inclusion of Fiona Apple (111), Corin Tucker of Sleater-Kinney (155) and Ozzy Osbourne (112). And Jeff Buckley at 134 who would’ve been higher if not for his tragic death at 30 years old.

No Natalie Merchant, huh … OK, fine. But no Pat Benatar? C’mon … No Simon? No Garfunkel? No Geoff Tate? No David Gilmour?

No Celine Dion?

Nope. No Celine Dion. Which is OK because … really? What did she do? She sang the theme song from history’s biggest movie about a sinking ship. It was a great love story (I guess) that ended in tragedy (thank God) because Kate Winslet wouldn’t share a floating door.

I mean, it was a big, big deal in the late ’90s. It wasn’t her only hit. She sings carefully constructed music. Which, just to be clear, Mariah Carey (No. 5) does as well. But Carey influenced a generation of young women to try singing high enough to shatter incoming missiles. Mariah Carey influenced a style that—as annoying and awful as it is—is still stuck with us, no matter how hard we try outlawing it.

Celine Dion became a star from essentially one song. A schmaltzy one that old people loved. It made Dion a star. But was it a good song? Not really. Did she write it? Absolutely not.

Dion has a big voice, which she let loose. Great. Concrete Blonde’s Johnette Napolitano has a voice that could probably knock the moon out of its orbit. But she’s not on the list. The question is, does Dion meet the criteria to be listed among the greats, even with one incredibly popular song?

Did she change what we thought of singing? Did she change how people sang? Did she spur any kind of cultural, or even musical, change? Did she create timeless music that will be known for generations? Did Dick Clark like the show?

None of the above.

When Dion started her first Las Vegas residency in 2003, it was a big deal. I covered the premier for the newspaper chain I worked for because I was a music writer who saw an opportunity to go to Las Vegas without paying.

It was fun. Lots of celebs on a red carpet. Hottest ticket in town. Caesar’s built Dion her own theater that was ginormous.  Of course, “My Heart Will Go On” (But Yours Won’t Since I Pushed You Off That Door) was the show’s big climax. I sat next to Robin Leach at the postgame press conference … caviar dreams, rich and famous.

I later wandered over to a lounge with my then-wife and saw Dick Clark sitting in front of an unknown R&B band, as they finished the set. He wasn’t obvious but went up and talked with them and shook everyone’s hand when they finished, which I thought was pretty cool. As he was leaving, I thought, “Well, I’m still on duty and here’s my chance to ask one of the biggest figures in music history what he thought of the show.”

So, I did … and he looked at me like someone spiked his drink with toenail clippings. He rolled his eyes and (honest to God) started swearing. Which I wish I would’ve thought to record, because hearing Dick Clark drop F bombs, take some holy names in vain, and look disgusted for two minutes, was probably the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

He caught himself and told me sternly I wasn’t to quote him. Which, technically, he was supposed to do after I identified myself as a reporter and before he started swearing. But here was a guy who, as far as I knew, had New Year’s Eve named after him. I wasn’t going to argue with Dick Clark. I won’t even quote him 20 years later, when he’s too dead to come after me.

We chatted a bit more, he slapped me on the back, we took a picture together (that he, no doubt, wanted for his office wall) and parted ways.

Dick Clark was right. Speaking for myself, it felt schmaltzy. It felt manufactured. If I recall correctly (never a safe assumption), I was fair in what I wrote, because it was a big production that entertained a lot of people, which was her job. But it was Las Vegas, for Dick’s sake. It was hyped into a huge deal. But it certainly wasn’t greatness. It was cheese. And that was Celine Dion’s big moment.

I’m sure she’s a nice lady. And she is a very good singer. Or, she has a great voice. But RS was right not to include her, especially if there was no mention of Madonna, a Van Halen or KISS frontman, Joan Jett or flippin Ann Wilson, who has a legitimate argument as the greatest female rock singer of all time.

If Rolling Stone was a good sport, and actually had a sense of humor, it would put Celine Dion on its next cover with the headline “The 201st Best Singer, and explain why. Even Celine Dion fans might like that.

Follow music critic Tony Hicks at Twitter.com/TonyBaloney1967.