Dear Madonna

I, like millions of other gay men, gleefully navigated to the video of Madonna’s new “single” off her latest, greatest hits. Say what you will about the Madge, but she has proven to have staying power in a notoriously fickle industry, and has consistently produced pop candy, while exposing the world to a ton of interesting collaborators.

She has teased, taunted and titillated. But now it has to stop. So, I’ve crafted this note to the former Mrs. Richie and Penn.

Dear Madonna,

Honey--we’re getting old. Touching your puss suggestively while groping your new model/dj/boytoy isn’t hip and cool. It’s kind of creepy. In a cougar creepy way. It’s not “keeping you young.” In fact, it makes you look even older. Being the only AARP member in a troupe of twentysomethings reeks of desperation. It’s kind of like that old people smell.

Don’t get me wrong. You can still dance your ass off. You are still amazing and magical. And I believe that there’s nothing wrong with being a role model for post-menopausal sexuality. But you’re becoming the female equivalent of the old guy in the trenchcoat.

When you simulated masturbation on stage during your Like a Prayer days, it was a celebration of your sexuality and I applauded you. Now it just seems . . . unseemly.
You can still be provocative. Jesus, I just saw Grace Jones perform live and one of her costumes was completely backless. And it was hot. But she didn’t touch herself.

I’m not saying you should act your age. I’m just saying maybe don’t act your daughter’s age either. Even though your boyfriend is, like, 20 years closer to your daughter’s age—I’m okay with that. Get it while you can.

Love,

O’P