Remember the ’80s public service announcement where the dad confronts his son about the marijuana he discovers in his offspring’s

room, and where did he learn about drug use from? The son’s reply was, “I learned it from watching you, dad!”Well, I can say the same thing about listening to and watching Madonna throughout the years, minus the drug reference.

Everything I learned about life, I learned it from Madonna.

With her emergence on the pop music scene with the track, “Everybody,” in October 1982, Madonna encouraged everyone to “dance and sing, get up and do your thing,” and that simple plea was truly encompassing of the song’s title.

It was easy for gay listeners to embrace the raw sexuality that Madonna provided on her debut album, Madonna, especially with tracks like “Physical Attraction” and “Burning Up.” Even as a thirteen year old, I found myself gravitating towards her brand of danceable sex education.

There was just something special about her, and at a point when I was still in the closet (yes, at one point in time, mine actually came with hinges, a door and a lock!), it was like she was looking inside of me with an x-ray machine, pinpointing the spots that were the most easily accessible to help strengthen my fractured gay sensibility bones.
In essence, I felt like she was performing the soundtrack to my life; whether it was the hidden lust I felt about some guy in my gym class, or the hope that one day I could be in the know about telling someone, “Don’t you know that I’m burning up for your love?”

I can remember listening to “Like A Virgin” when I still was one - which seems like eons ago, and her “scandalous” writhing and rolling around on the stage at the very first MTV Video Music Awards, was something I had wished I had the balls to do - to just be so unabashed and comfortable in my own skin, sans the wedding dress, of course.
She was never ashamed of her sexuality, which I was at odds at up until the fated summer of 1985, when I decided it was time to tell it true. Madonna was everywhere that summer - on the radio, touring with her first concert and performing at Live Aid.

At the movies, she was stealing scenes in Desperately Seeking Susan, while her private life was caught in the media crosshairs for her nuptials to Sean Penn and in the pages of Penthouse and Playboy with early nude photos she had posed for (Note to all potential pop divas: make sure you shave your armpits prior to any “I was young and needed the money” photo opps).

Her response to the photos being used when she became a star was that she was not ashamed. And somehow, those words bolstered me to tell my parents that they had a gay son, which was met with the requisite “it must be a phase” response.

My mother even went so far as to buy me the Playboy and Penthouse with Madonna in them, because I pattered on incessantly about the whole hoopla it caused in the media - perhaps she hoped the sight of a nude “Material Girl” would help sway me out of wanting to find some boys that would kiss and hug me - fortunately, it didn’t take!
And in a sense Madonna became a beard for me, from that point forward, with my four older brothers who weren’t in on my secret - never mind the fact that I would drive my candy apple red scooter up and down the street, while singing “Holiday.”

Her likeness adorned my bedroom walls on posters and a calendar, a far cry from the days when my oldest brother occupied that same room with his plethora of Led Zeppelin posters, and much like her oft referred to ability to transform herself, I turned my bedroom into a shrine of sorts to my diva.

Eventually, I got to a place in my life where I was able to paraphrase her 1989 hit “Express Yourself,” and came clean with my brothers regarding my sexuality, right around the time she was coming under fire for hers with Erotica, her “Sex” book and the movie Body of Evidence.

Unfortunately, I did not have a Mylar cover, ala her “Sex” book, to cover me from the fear I had about completely coming out to all members of my family, but over time I developed a thicker skin and sense of pride about being a gay man.

And I do attribute a great deal of being able to be comfortable in my own gay skin to Madonna’s own “this is who I am, you can like it or not” attitude, which was reflected on a single from her last CD, Confessions on a dance floor.

I had the great privilege of catching her Confessions tour for a mere $350, which I earned by selling my spleen on eBay. It was certainly a far cry from the $35 being-seated-behind-the-stage-and-watching-the-show-on-a-monitor experience I had when I caught her Blond Ambition tour in 1990. This time around, I got a seat right at the end of her catwalk. At one point during the show, she looked directly at me, and I was like a queer caught in the headlights.

I looked into the face of my diva, and she seemed to give me a knowing look, reassuring me of my unwavering belief in her, lo, these many years.

And, as she continues to prove to be a venerable musical force to be reckoned with by receiving an induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (the ceremony is slated for March 10th), and recently inking an unprecedented $120 million recording and tour deal with Live Nation.

And, of course, her new CD will come out in late April, and a few titles have been bandied about - Licorice and or Give It To Me; I was kinda hoping she would round out the “Like A” oeuvre, since it’s her last disc for Warner Music Group. But her first single and video will be “4 Minutes To Save The World,” which features Justin Timberlake and Timbaland.

But, the biggest lesson I will take from my tutelage with her Madgesty is her uncanny ability to bounce back from personal and professional disappointments, coupled with the drive and determination she exudes, which serve as an invaluable lesson in the fine art of self belief.

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