One of the things I respect the most is doing what you want to do (without harming anyone)without apologies. One of the people who has always done what they want to do is Madonna. Yep, good old Madge. You see, I am a hardcore longtime Madonna fan.
My affair with Madonna started one afternoon, sitting in my room, in a rented room in a ninth floor apartment. I was flipping through channels, with the ennui that comes with being in a place that you don't consider yours, even if all your earthly possessions are contained in that room. And then, there was this thing on T.V., where this woman was singing a song that seemed familiar, coming down a wedding cake.
She looked amazing. She was the woman I knew existed somewhere: free, coy, sexy, shy, daring, old-fashioned yet uber-modern.
I was paralyzed. She came down that cake and then began dancing, twirling, rolling on the floor. I was in love. I run to the record store and bought her two CDs. I danced with her. I made love with her. I dressed like her. My grandmother's rosaries became a staple in my wardrobe, an underscore to the weird clothes I wore (and wear, darling!).
Since that day, she's been my main woman. I've grown with her. We're both 'of a certain age' now. And neither of us looks it. I still find her inspiring. She goes against the grain and is still unapologetically daring. She's criticized and vilified and her intents are scrutinized and demonized. Yet she's as fabulous to me as she was all those years ago. She's more sophisticated now. Her music, her stage presence and her songs have benefited from the experience and the money she now has. But her stance and her critique of society are still relevant. She makes political and social statements, she benefits and has benefited causes that the oblivious middle class does not dare touch, she's the handle on the closet doors to many a queer kid.
She may not be the young girl of Like A Virgin, but I am not the young guy living in that room anymore, either. And that's a good thing.
I still want to be like her: creative, political, sexy, and above all, free. She's still my woman and I hope I can do in a much lower scale what she's doing and has done all these years: making a difference.
Because I hope that at least one young person who feels disenfranchised and alone would recognize the queer streak in me. And realize that you can be all that you can be like in the army, but without the leash society tries to impose in you.
So you go, Madonna. I just made you $15 bucks with that Confessions Tour DVD. And I will keep on giving to you as long as you keep giving to me and to all those who hear you sing and see the light.
And you dear friend should go out and get it, too. Because even if she's not the greatest singer of all time, she's still relevant, interesting and poignant. And to stay like that in the fickle world of pop music is an achievement that should be celebrated by the people who care to think.