Although I'm a child/man-child of the Eighties, I'm not a fan. And here's the reason: She failed to shock Kevin Costner. Mr. Whitebread. Robin Hood. Field of Dreams. That Kevin Costner.
I don't know if you remember, but when Mr. Costner went backstage after watching one of Madonna's performances (filmed for the movie Truth of Dare), he told her he thought the show was "neat."
Madonna: Thanks for coming.
Kevin Costner: We thought it was "neat".
Madonna: "Neat"?
Kevin Costner: Really neat.
How could Madonna fail to shock him with her provocative performance? I can only imagine him following up with "Now I'm going home to chain my wife down in the bed of our pick-up truck and spank her ass with a salmon." Oh, that's why not. The old spank-the-wife's-ass-with-a-salmon-trick. Madonna should steal that for her next show.
What that says is that Kevin Costner was not shocked or titillated or offended or anything. His excitement level was one step above "going to church."
To think that Madonna spent her life trying to find ways to shock the world, us, the sexually repressed and morally restrained, only to have Kevin Costner say all her effort is only "neat." That must have killed her inside.
Madonna never shocked anyone. Ooh, she wore lingerie on TV. She had fourteen-year-old boys masturbating to the "Like a Virgin" video. Hell, fourteen-year-old boys will masturbate to episodes of The Golden Girls. So the whole Madonna image made no impression on me. Although when I hear Bea Arthur's drill sergeant-like bark, I feel a stirring in my special place.
Yes, I bought Madonna's "controversial" and boring Sex book, but only because it was in the bargain section for $20 (I have the French language edition). Have you seen how much that thing sells for today? I should sell my copy before she gets any colder.
