Let’s step back in the Wayback Machine, shall we?  It’s 1983.  I’m listening to the radio when I first hear Madonna’s “Holiday” blaring through my boombox.  Catchy tune, I think between popping zits.  I immediately run out and buy the 45 and listen to it relentlessly.

Since there was no video released for “Holiday” and I was trapped in Iowa at the time, I had no idea what Madonna looked like.  In my head, she was a soft, bejeweled African-American woman … sort of a cross between Shannon and Amii Stewart.

And then I spotted her album cover in Sears of all places.  (Yes, Sears used to sell records, kids.)  Madonna was a white girl!  And she appeared to be dripping in lingerie and rubber bands.   I had made this mental image of Madge before I had seen her … and could NOT have been more inaccurate if I tried.

Didn’t matter what Madonna looked like … she became my touchstone.  Still is.  Oh sure, Cyndi Lauper had my heart too, but I spent a healthy amount of my allowance on Madonna’s music.  And posters.  And books.  And other assorted propaganda and paraphernalia.   Heck, I went to go see the movie “Vision Quest” because she was featured in it … for about 42 seconds.

Through my junior high, high school and college years, Madonna changed her look approximately every 12 minutes.  She went from tasteful to trashy in the blink of an eye.  And she was possibly the world’s worst actress.  Didn’t matter … I still went to see “Who’s That Girl?” and told everyone I knew to go see it.

Lady Gaga has usurped Madonna lately because, well, she’s everywhere.  But let us not forget that Madonna did it first BEFORE social media existed.  She was a real original … a trailblazer … an artiste!  She’ll always be my idol.  After I get done posting this, I’m going to go vogue.  Why?  Because I can.   And while I may not be able to remember where I parked my car post-gym workout, I still remember every word to the rap in that song.

Madonna is forever engrained in my essence.  Cone bra optional.