My wife thinks it's hilarious that I even know who Adam Lambert is. I usually despise American Idol as an assembly line that turns out predictable, sappy pop. In past seasons, when Katy spent Tuesdays and Wednesdays glued to the tube, I viewed it as one of the annoying but inevitable facets of cohabitation--like snoring or dirty socks on the floor.

But once I heard Glambert sing, I was glued to the tube too. And when he covered Nina Simone on "Rat Pack" night, I fell head-over-heels in love. I haven't felt this way since my days of high school fag haggery, when I got crushed out on the boys who let me paint their faces like Boy George. The eyeliner! The voice! And that drag queen delivery! (In the Rolling Stone interview, he claims he's only done drag a few times. Actually, his comments struck me as a tad drag-phobic, but, whatevs, have you seen the way he purses his lips and tosses his head? There's a drag queen to be thanked somewhere.)

So, although I will probably ruin my punk rock credibility for life, I must confess to combing You Tube for visual evidence of Adam's pre-Idol queer subcultural activities. Here's my favorite, which features an outfit that screams "International Male Clearance Sale":

h/t to the music-loving novelist Sarah Bird. She may not have coined the name "Glambert," but she's responsible for making it a household name at our house.