Believe it or not, I’ve never been a Madonna fan. I mean, yeah, “Everybody” was kinda cute in a minimalist way, and I’ve shaken a tailfeather to some of her other songs at clubs, but I’ve never actually bought anything–unless you count that one Jellybean Benitez single where she sang background vocals, though that seems like a stretch.
My reluctance to embrace Madonna/Esther/the MG has always been an enigma–to my friends and also to me. But today, I learned that my aversion, like her love, is totally justified. In an article that’s not even really about her, I found this:
After recently sitting close enough to Madonna at a restaurant in Mayfair to see the svelte star’s lunch of a single boiled egg, I wonder if the saying Blondes have more fun is really true.
Now, anyone who knows me knows I’m not a picky eater. I’ll eat nearly anything you put in front of me–vegetable, animal, and occasionally, mineral. But there are two things I simply cannot stomach: a Japanese pickled plum and a hard-boiled egg. (NB: Jonno shares my egg hang-up. In fact, it was one of the things over which we bonded early in our relationship. We celebrate 11 years next week, so, you know, take it for what you will.)
Even worse: not only is Madonna eating the damn thing–in public!–but it’s the only thing she’s eating. That just seems reckless and masochistic. Either the botox has rendered her totally insane, or she’s not from this planet at all.
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