someone beat me to it

The day Luther Vandross died, i was watching the evening news when Roz Abrams (rumored to be a diver herself) announced that "Luther Vandross had only one true love in his life. . . (pause). . . music."

Then there flashed a picture of a lighter, demure Vandross singing, then bashfully ducking his head, smiling.

And it hit me. Luther Vandross had one love in his life that he talked about! He is a HUGE GAY. It was stunning to me. I felt like there wasn't a single star or celebrity who I hadn't accused of being gay, let alone not spotted a closeted one who was so clearly, clearly gay. I've been milling it over for weeks, racking up evidence, listening to all the tributes. But apparently its just one of those things that slipped under my radar while I watched him all those 8,700 times on Oprah. Maybe I was distracted by his stroke or by the strange way that everyone seemed to love his cheesy romance soaked lyrics (I'm not denying the man can sing. . . but the content was sometimes lacking).

Anyway, the Village Voice beat me to it.

"Though he never came out as gay, bisexual, or even straight, you had to be wearing blinders--as many of his fans, particularly female, must have been--to overlook his queerness. The sequined Liberace suits were a clue, as were the highly publicized bitch fights he waged on tour with Anita Baker and En Vogue. The dead giveaway for me was his admission that his high school grades plummeted because he was in anguish over Diana Ross leaving the Supremes. "

awwww, so cute. Apparently, he nurtured a longtime friendship with disco master Sylvester

and felt that the anguish of the closet is what fueled the success of his songwriting. So viscious is the closeted circle.

In honor of Luther, go tell your co-worker your gay. (I don't care if it's true.)