Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Live to Tell Everybody my Borderline Love Profusion

I was looking for something the other day and came across an album.  And by album I mean an actual 33 RPM record album.  It was on the very bottom of the bin, buried under my 4th grade report on the Bubonic Plague and an envelope full of my Girl Scout patches.

Like A Virgin.

I don’t know if I can properly convey the extent to which I was obsessed with Madonna.  To my young eyes, she was the epitome of cool.  I remember watching the video for “Burning Up” on MTV at my cousin’s house in New Jersey, mesmerized by her energy on the screen.  In the 6th grade my female classmates and I choreographed our own dance routine to “Lucky Star” to perform at our school’s talent show.  That same year I cut the fingertips off of my lace Easter gloves, much to my mother’s chagrin.  In the 8th grade I begged my mom to give me a perm (she was a hairdresser) so I could match Madonna’s waves in “Desperately Seeking Susan” (and how I coveted those studded boots!  Let’s just say the result kept my hair in a banana clip for the remainder of the school year.

If only it ended there.  The lace tights, black rubber bracelets, and bright red lipstick followed me through high school.  In the 11th grade some friends and I choreographed a dance routine to “Causing a Commotion” for the talent show at our youth group convention.  That same year I was devastated when Madonna cancelled her concert, to which I had tickets, due to issues with her throat.  When “Evita” came out, I cried in the theatre and felt some weird sense of pride that she had finally redeemed herself in the eyes of everyone who said she had no talent.  When Jayson and I got married, our first dance at the wedding reception was to “Crazy for You.”

I can’t say that I’m completely free from my Madonna mania.  Although I don’t agree with her lifestyle choices, her music still moves me to dance.  I admire her perseverance, her courage in life, and her work ethic.  She was never a role model, but she was certainly an influence.  I guess I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone.

If only I still had my record player.

OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.

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