Last night I was subjected to the Madonna concert at Madison Square Garden, where temperatures in the stands hovered around 127 degrees.

Rumor has it that she asked to have the A/C turned off. I have NO IDEA WHY ANY NORMAL HUMAN BEING WOULD DO THAT, but then again, "normal" is not an adjective often associated with Madonna.

If I sound grumpy, it's because I am. When one - or one's Boyfriend, as the case may be - pays serious $$$ to see the Material Mom perform, one expects the following:

1) Rigorous dance sequences
2) Innumerable costume changes
3) Songs I know the lyrics to (JUST SING "VOGUE" DAMNIT!!)
4) Lots of flesh

I know, I know. It's blasphemy to suggest that she didn't have, like, the most AMAAAAAZZZZING concert ever, ohmigod!!! After all, the NY Times and the Post didn't complain.

I'm a much tougher critic.

Sure, there were rigorous dance sequences - but Madonna only participated in a small portion of them, pawning off the hard work on her ridiculously chiseled, racially diverse, cargo-pants-wearing backup dancers.

Furthermore, the only classics she sung were Like a Virgin and Lucky Star (inexplicably set to the Hung Up melody). That really didn't do it for me. I wanted the entire damn Immaculate Collection.

And yes, there were costume changes, but the majority of the time she was completely covered, head to toe, in black equestrian-cum-S&M, Elizabethian style turtlenecks, jackets and thigh-high boots. I could not for the life of me figure out what was going on. First, it's a billion degrees.

Second, WHAT IS THE POINT OF HAVING 0% BODY FAT IF YOU'RE GOING TO COVER IT ALL UP?

I cheered when she stripped down to a pink leotard in the very last song. FINALLY.

All that having been said, the show may have been worth it just for the relentlessly flamboyant appreciative audience. The Stanford Blatch-esque guy behind me actually squealed: "Oh. My. God. I just CANNOT believe this. I am, like, sooooooo excited. OHMIGODDDDD. I LOVEEEEE HER. She's a LIVING LEGEND!!!!"

And - in my favorite moment of the entire evening - a lovely fellow in the front row held up a neon fuchsia sign that proclaimed in huge sparkly letters:

"MADONNA - You MADE me Gay!!!"

That. Is. Awesome.