I voted 101 times for Adam last week.  I’ve never voted more than a dozen times in a season before this one.   Then I bought tickets to see the tour.  Next, I’ll buy an Adam Lambert t-shirt.  I probably should check the web . . .

I haven’t gotten all geeky-fan about anyone in a long time.  It’s kinda fun.  Now I know why all those twelve year-old girls do it!  What a rush!  It’s gotta be good for burning calories.

Last week’s Entertainment Weekly had a super-smart cover story–it claimed to be about Adam, but it was really about the silencing that surrounds so many gay or maybe-gay folks–and the impact it has on all of us when they can’t share their lives the way everyone else can.  Something I feel every day.  Probably many of you do too, living in a heterocentric world.

I confessed the other day to being a huge American Idol fan.  No matter what happens with the voting and the performers, I love the show.  Sure, parts of it annoy me sometimes (I suspect that’s true of all Idol fans), but overall, I love knowing that two nights a week there will be something fresh on television that isn’t so violent or scary that my sleep gets disturbed.  Not even the worst contestants in the early rounds of auditions freak me out as much as some of today’s crime dramas.   There’s a reason I write “contemporary cozy” mystery novels–I’m a wuss.

Anyhow.  About Adam Lambert.  The wonderful New York Times article last Sunday explored the impact of his sexuality on voting and–more interestingly (if anything can be more interesting than Adam Lambert)–about the radical shift in public consciousness regarding sexuality.  Some people wonder if a gay contestant can win American Idol.  Others wonder if his sexuality matters at all in the “post-Neil Patrick Harris era.”  No longer is coming out sudden death to an entertainment career.  We can all thank Ellen Degeneres for that.

All that’s important, of course, but what Mr. Lambert offers his audiences goes beyond further discussions of sexuality and changing attitudes.  I think his performances fascinate for a different reason:  when he performs, he lays it all out.  He decides what he’s going to do and he commits.  Creativity yanks the reins from caution and steers those performances down some very risky roads.  Whether I like his renditions or not, I can’t help but stand up in my living room and scream “yes!” from the depth of my soul because here is someone–gay or not–who is just all-out going for it!  All by himself.  No band members or team or cast surrounding him.  Just him doing his thing.  For a few minutes, I get to watch a person courageous enough to let all the scary “what ifs” come alive in front of the whole world.

And I ask myself, when was the last time I had even a few minutes that unconscripted by caution?  

When I feel all the unrealized potential start to rumble around in me, as uncomfortable as it makes me, I’m glad.  It’s still alive in there.  It deserves to kick up a fuss.  I need to listen with less fear.

Everyone–gay and straight–lives with parts of ourselves closeted.  Creative yearnings we dare not express, risks we can’t muster the nerve to take, life paths we long to explore but can’t because it would upset someone else.  Folks like Adam Lambert stand as role models to all of us.  Perhaps not models as popular as Danny Gokey, youth pastor and young widower with a shining attitude.  But models all the same.  Fortune favors the brave, as Paula Abdul tried to say during her comments in last night’s show.  I don’t think most of us live our lives like we believe that.  I know I certainly don’t!  And when I see someone doing it–at least, doing a much better job at it than I–I stand up and cheer.  

And later, aftering dialing in my vote, I sleep soundly.  With excellent dreams of tomorrow.