It was Elton's "Tiny Dancer", I suppose, that first endeared him to me. And then there was that "I'm bisexual" announcement he made in the 70s, a bold career move for those times. And yes, I was quizzical at hearing he'd gotten married but shrugged nonchalantly when his strait-jacketed nuptials proved temporary.

A female roommate who paid daily obeisance to Elton made sure his singing tugged at our hearts for a full year, filling our domicile with his songs, swelling to their best. Elton John, more than I'd have once imagined possible, had become a staple in my life.

When he stepped forward with other top entertainers during the Eighties and helped provide "That's What Friends Are For"—the profits for that single going to AIDS causes-- Elton tugged at hearts everywhere again. He proved himself as much an activist as any great innovator could be when he visited and kept confidence with Ryan White, an AIDS-stricken boy. Elton, it had become clear, would last as a star.

Recently, on a trip to Atlanta, my host pointed to a huge tower-top where Elton lives at least part-time as a star should-- in the sky. "Candle in the Wind," the top-selling single of all time—another gift to charities-- was behind him, and he was buying a new house in the south of France.

Whether dazzling us on stage or in what we call "real life", Elton has never seemed either stationary or dull. Hence he socialized as comfortably with Princess Diana as he now does in the corn-fed environs of everyday folk— those Georgia peaches who've befriended him.

To all, it seems, Elton John has become more than just a singer. He's a way-shower, a man who takes brave and sensible stands. Boy George can snip at his heels and call him a "Queen," but Elton is also a Grand Camp—in the Liberace tradition—one who isn't afraid to dress ridiculously and, while delivering musical delights, to poke fun at himself. George needn't help. As musical royalty, Elton is plenty big enough for the job.

Besides, as he once related, there's another queen in the game, Her Majesty, Elizabeth II. At a birthday party for Prince Andrew, the staid British monarch asked Elton if she could join in the dancing while "Rock Around the Clock" shook palace rafters. "Of course you can," he laughed, "you're the queen!"

In fact, how many queens can say they've performed the Scottish Highland Fling with the Queen Mum, Great Britain's still-living and beloved World War II monarch? Elton can.

Elton sees himself as writer of ballads. Not far off from a poet, it would appear, and more popular by reason of the musical intonations he adds. He isn't afraid to work. His forays into creativity—without fear he'll be in over his head—are testaments to multifaceted drives. He writes for theatre, for example, contributing melodies and words for major stage productions like The Lion King and Aida.

Elton lives with David Furnish, who he "loves very much." And, though they live apart, he continues to hug longtime friend and song-writing buddy, Bernie Taupin, on whom he early developed a "crush"—and who later, he says, became like a brother or best friend.

Elton admits that the two of them—he and Bernie-- are quite different – like "chalk and cheese". But that's also why these two loving friends have continued to enjoy each other's company—igniting surprises that can only stem from sharing differing views.

His now-ended bout with drugs that began in 1976, says Elton, found his creativity on the wane. He'd thought, he said, that they might have added coals to his creative fires, but discovered they were extinguishing these fires instead.

Now in his fifties, Elton John has earned his place as a gay icon across the world. His music, ever entrancing, grips audiences because it remains not only melodic and rhythmic in the best sense, but ever-new. There's self-knowledge and genuine kindness in Elton John's face and in his musical expressions, additional badges of merit he's fought hard within himself to win.