OK, folks… it’s time for all my faithful readers to run screaming. I hope this week’s blog entries reach beyond my usual audience, because I’ve found that I am very much alone in my love of Rufus Wainwright.

Alone in my circle of family and friends, that is. Out there on the interwebs, of course, there are legions of people just like me, people who swoon at the romanticism and theatricality of a man who’s a little Cole Porter, a little Puccini, a little Michael Stipe… and all Rufus.

And yes, I’m secure enough in my sexuality to admit to swooning over a flamboyantly gay man. What of it?

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