Well, here's a column sure to kill my chances of being invited on Oprah.
You see, Elton John's music was kind of a background to my growing up. Crocodile Rock. Bennie and The Jets.
When Princess Diana died, he turned Candle In The Wind into an anthem to the most beloved Royal of them all. The Queen of England made him a Knight of The Realm. Unstoppable, the modern Elton cranks out hit Broadway musicals like Billy Elliot.
Then it happened.
I was at the checkout counter at Walgreens and Sir Elton creeped me out.
An Us Magazine cover stared back at me, and I did a double take. It featured a photo of Elton and his civil union partner David furnish holding an infant next to a headline that proclaimed "Elton's baby!"
Go ahead. Sick the hate speech police on me.
It creeped me out because I'm sick of a culture that tells our children that any lifestyle is okay if it reflects who they are.
The idea that anything is morally unacceptable has disappeared.
The article tells us that Papa Elton and Dad David first tried to adopt a child from the
That's when Mr. and Mr. John went the surrogate mother route, complete with a donor egg united with unidentified sperm.
Unidentified because they didn't want either dad known as the biological father, so as Elton breathlessly exclaimed, "We both donated!"
Don't we want the best for children, including a dad and a mom? Elton's millions won't fill the void in the momless house.
The New Testament warns it is better for one to have a millstone tied around one's neck and be thrown into the sea, rather than lead children into sin.
Sir Elton, I love the music. And no one can wear a pair of giant sunglasses the way you do.
But please quit creeping me out. You and Us magazine can get along fine without the millstone.