A lazy Wednesday afternoon in Manhattan, a client meeting behind me and nothing left to do. The temperature has soared to 70 degrees on a prematurely late-Spring-like day in mid March. What's an old queen to do? Despite the fact that it's weeks away from Memorial Day, the global warming weather had me hankering for a summer Martini. Feeling slightly guilty, I channeled Elaine Stritch singing Sondheim's Ladies Who Lunch and then, empowered, and rid of my momentary guilt over a daytime cocktail, I headed to the nearest bar. (Note to readers: if you're unfamiliar with Stritch, Sondheim or the score from Company, please leave this website immediately.)

For those of you aren't terribly familiar with my drinking habits, my winter Martini is with an olive and in summer it's a twist. That's how I keep track of the seasons.

Not much was open this early--even along Chelsea's infamous Man Mile, but I know the manager of View Bar and he has a soft spot for old broads in need of a midday cocktail. So I shouldn't have been surprised to run into one of my dearest and oldest friends also driven to drink by the bizarre weather. No, not Elaine Stritch--at 2 in the afternoon dear Elaine is likely still unconscious--but Madame.

You older queers are now seething with jealousy. Yes, Madame and I are like a log and a knothole and you're not. And you younger queers are about to be educated.

Madame is a superstar of gay history and thanks to hunky and agonizingly adorable Joe Kovacs, Madame is on the cusp of a huge second coming (every pun intended.)

Madame is the Mother Theresa of Queerdom, the old girl who put the hag in fag, the Diva goddess who wrote the rule book for Cher, Diana Ross and Bette Midler.

Back in the days when homosexuality didn't exist and there was no such thing as a gay man, Madame and her BFF Wayland Flowers celebrated gay culture on national television, on the stage and even on the big screen. Some of you younger boys and girls may know her from syndicated repeats of vintage Hollywood Squares. Wayland and Madame were Center Square stars planting a flag for the queer nation on national television. Madame ruled the set, bejeweled and bedecked in Bob Mackie finery and Harry Winston pastery. She was the Statue of Liberty of Queer America, brazenly displaying her huge proboscis of light to show us the way to gay.

Madame defined Diva, not Judy, not Marilyn. When Cher, Sandra Bernhard, Barbara Streisand and even that Ciccone girl looked for a role model they turned to Madame. When Bob Mackie lacked inspiration for his next outrageous creation, he called Madame. When Liberace ran short of sequins in just the right hues, he called Madame. Where did Bette Midler and Barbara Cook learn how to style a song? Madame. And before the AIDS crisis, if you wanted the ultimate toothless bathhouse hummer? Madame.

For those of you who think I exaggerate, take note that Madame is the only wood in the history of television to take home two Emmy Awards. Madame and Wayland Flowers were among the most welcomed and anticipated guests on such hit variety shows in the 1960s and 1970s as The Andy Williams Show and Laugh In. For four years, Madame hosted Solid Gold and in the early 80s actually had her own syndicated sitcom, Madame's Place. Madame is the only puppet in history to have headlined in Las Vegas and starred in her own show at Radio City Music Hall.

Painfully, Madame pulled a Greta Garbo and abandoned her much coveted center square position on Hollywood Squares some 18 long years ago. Along with Rock Hudson and Michael Bennett, she was another casualty of the virus wars.

But Madame is back in defiance of AIDS and in celebration of the best of gay culture. Seemingly lost in the mists of history, like many of us older ladies, she was revived by a much younger boy toy--in her case, the very handsome Joe Kovacs. Joe was the gentle hand, the warm embrace that provided the succor and inspiration that beckoned Madame home after her long period of mourning and self-imposed exile.

One need only watch Joe with Madame for a few brief moments to understand how he was able to charm and coax the great lady back into the limelight. As well as eye candy in his own right, puppeteer Joe's almost supernatural connection with Madame may single-handedly fuel a revival of the ancient art of puppetry.

(Just FYI, the first documented evidence of puppetry goes back to Greece of 500 B.C.. Madame claims to have been there and actually in the audience engaged in her own form of ancient Greek. At the same time, she also revealed to me the secret of her longevity: leaving "the surgery to that commemorative plate known as Joan Rivers," Madame rather indulges in a daily double dose of orgasms. Of course if I had Joe Kovacs' hand on my backside all day I'm sure I'd be doing the same.)

Joe and Madame remind us that all the technology in the world pales by comparison to the elegance and power of human chemistry, charisma, talent and imagination. In these days of computer generated special effects and over-produced Broadway and Las Vegas extravaganza, Joe Kovacs delivers true magic..

I met Joe through Madame and we're slowly becoming friends. I do find him to be a little scary. As you watch his face as he performs, your rational side struggles to NOT think of him and Madame as two very real and different people--after all, she's a puppet. But Madame's supernatural personality embraces Joe with some ghostly aura as he jumps between her and himself. She becomes the dominant player in that relationship making the experience of seeing Joe perform thrilling, fascinating and a little spooky.

Madame will be headlining at Fort Lauderdale's Art Explosion on March 17 and will then be appearing every other Tuesday starting on March 20 at New York City's Don't Tell Mama cabaret. Madame will also be the opening act for Joy Behar's Comedy tour in December. You can find full details of these and other appearances on her website, madameandme. And while you'll surely be seeing Madame on television again in the near future, I would urge you to catch her live asap because when the cameras and the TV censors aren't watching, Madame can be just a little bit inappropriate.