Long Live Rock 'N' Roll!

The Brooklyn Museum is huge.

At least, it's bigger than I expected. I feel like I'm wandering through a lavishly furnished labyrinth on my way to the "Who Shot Rock & Roll" photography exhibit. This is the Museum's current big draw, and it's a rainy Sunday during a holiday weekend, so of course it's crowded, and if you've read my previous museum post, you know how much I love crowds. There are also more kids running around than I expected. I can't imagine a rowdy 6-year-old is actually going to appreciate black and white photos of Bob Dylan and Iggy Pop, and thus begins that slow buildup of breeder-induced irritation I've lately become afflicted with.* Then I spot a Georgia O'Keeffe painting in one of the galleries I pass through.** This makes me smile. I take it as a good omen.

*As a former English major and an editor, I acknowledge the preposition ending this sentence, and I quote Winston Churchill on the topic: "That is the sort of nonsense up with which I will not put!"

**Yeah, I know I did it again.

I eventually exit the maze and arrive at my destination to be greeted by a giant wall-size poster of David Lee Roth's face. Not exactly sure what kind of omen that is. The exhibit inside is arranged somewhat chronologically, so, unsurprisingly, the first subject is Elvis Presley. There's a video of one of his SHOCKING (tee hee) sexually charged performances of "Heartbreak Hotel" and — because I'm a feverish, worshipful fan who finds parallels everywhere (never mind one who has played the entire "For Your Entertainment" CD back-to-back so many times that I can now play the strings section from "Soaked" on my oft-neglected viola) — my instinctive response is: ADAM.

Yes, we've had this conversation before: I love Adam Lambert. Not "I'm-totally-getting-a-sex-change-just-to-make-out-with-you" love, more just "it-makes-me-happy-that-you-exist" love. Like the way I love Habitat For Humanity or Häagen-Dazs Five ice cream. Only much prettier to look at.***

***His brother Neil, on the other hand, is "I-want-to-abduct-you-and-handcuff-you-to-my-bed" love. Really — big words and unbridled sarcasm are such a turn-on...

So, this glittery alien vs. 'The King': both labeled "controversial," for their innovative musical styles as well as for oozing sexiness. Hordes of foaming-at-the-mouth girl fanatics: check and check. There's a photo in the gallery of Elvis kissing an anonymous (female) fan, pre-fame; I know you've all seen those SCANDALOUS (tee hee) pictures of pre-Idol Adam kissing (a boy) on the Interwebz (or The O'Reilly Factor). They even kind of look alike. Or maybe it's just the hair...

I admit, maybe I'm reaching — who knows if he'll end up being as revolutionary in retrospect? But the boy has undeniable talent and distinct star quality, and he's definitely got things all shook up.

Reading the didactic labels (yes, I just learned that phrase today) for each Elvis photo, and with Mr. Lambert still on the brain, a line jumps out at me: "his blend of charm and sexuality." As a writer, my first thought is, "Yes — nailed it!" A spot-on description so succinctly put, I almost want to clap. I mean, there are plenty of hot guys who wear eyeliner in the music industry (I'm looking at you, Dave Navarro and Billie Joe Armstrong) that I'm sure many find more attractive than Adam Lambert (Dear Glamberts: Please don't kill me), but what hooked me is he also seems to be just a charming and, in the words of Chelsea Handler, "very normal" guy. As in — and this is what I believe may set me apart from the majority of his female fans — I'd rather hug him than fuck him. Not that any of us chicks even have that chance, but you know what I'm saying. And as I've stated before, I sometimes wish the Lamberts would adopt me, you know, just so we could play board games and stuff.

I conclude my visit 3 hours later, standing mesmerized for a good 15 to 20 minutes in front of the video for David Bowie's "Life On Mars."

I just can't get enough of guys wearing eye makeup.