I have been crying for over a week now. At some point you think life will give you a reprieve from death and sorrow. Then you wake up and turn on your phone and the first thing you see is DAVID BOWIE DEAD AT AGE 69. Having just been to the memorial for a dear friend that life took too soon, also from cancer, the day it happened I did not see the news until Monday morning. Learning of the death that you and your husband joked for years would "put you in your own rubber room," is a horrible way to start the week. It seems that everyone has written about his death, I won't be one of those "Readers Digest" writers and say "Hey let's talk about his life!" I have always hated the happy cynicism of reporters and journalists. So today I'm just me, who along with seemingly endless amounts of people around the world are mourning the loss of a man who changed it.
The very first single I ever owned (stole from my sister) was "Space Oddity." I played it until it broke. I was in kindergarten the first time I heard the voice that would guide me through life. By the time I was old enough to go out and buy my own albums one of them was "The Man Who Sold the World." I saw the name David Bowie on it and thought I would give it a whirl. It is still one of my favorite records and gets played on the console on a regular sort of schedule. One of the first times I remember seeing the face of the man who sold the world was on Christmas Day. He was singing "The Little Drummer Boy" with Bing Crosby (that duet still confuses me to this day.) My mother was disgusted; I was in love. He was so graceful and handsome, and that was the moment I knew I had to go out and buy every album this man had ever made.
I listened to David Bowie all the time. Even through those years of being a diehard punk rocker. I saw so many people play throughout my punk rock years that I got razzed pretty hard about. I remember one evening going to see Ray Charles play with the Symphony with my mom and sister and getting dropped off downtown afterwards to see whatever band was playing that night. Watching David Bowie on television, on MTV, on Night Flight where they played the first copy of "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars" along with URGH and other punk/new wave films. I got to watch him command an audience in what looked like a really fancy onesie for a fashion forward baby. I saw girls and boys, crying and screaming along. Dancing like he was singing just to them. That movie did two things for me. It made me really listen to music, not just the stuff the cool kids liked but ALL kinds of music. It broadened my horizons musically. The other was fashion. I took away from that movie that I didn't have to try to look like anyone else, all I had to do was wear what I liked. Those two things have stayed with me all through my life. That is the first thing I have to thank David Bowie for, not being afraid to be yourself in all facets of life.
When "Let's Dance" was released in 1983 I bought it. I didn't LOVE it but I bought it. With years gone past I have learned to appreciate it, but I still don't love it. I have skipped some pretty vital stuff, sorry I'm a bit off my game. Bowie did Broadway. He was not the first actor to portray "The Elephant Man" but the second. As much as I love John Hurt in the movie with the same name, being a drama kid I was so enamored by the fact that he did it live...on stage. He was a wonderful actor which he proved in films like "The Man Who Fell to Earth," "Merry Christmas Mister Lawrence," and I will throw this in because it has such a cult following, "Labyrinth." He was the quintessential renaissance man in my eyes. This is another thing I learned from David Bowie, don't be afraid to try new things in life. This lesson was taught to me by many people, on a personal and professional level. Another lesson was don't be afraid to be witty or clever.
Every interview with David Bowie has a different tone. In the early years you got the sense that his was uncomfortable on a person to person level. That he preferred to be on a stage in front of thousands instead of just one. As he grew older the mask came down with admissions of ego problems and difficulty with the press coming out. He was charming and funny, even to the point of self-deprivation. If you can laugh at yourself, you can laugh at anything. If you make a mistake in life don't try to deny it, make fodder of it. Allow people to see who you really are, even if half of your life has been spent playing characters. I would suggest going to the Conan O'Brien You Tube channel and watching the clips they put together of the guest appearances he did. They show a man who is happy and content enough to pantomime himself.
As you can tell I could write a book (who knows maybe I will "Reflections on David Bowie in 2000 chapters", the condensed version) but I'm going to try and wrap up. As I mentioned, he was a voice that guided me through life. When I used to feel sorry for myself, and sometimes still do, I would listen to "Rock n Roll Suicide" on repeat. "Just turn on with me and you're not alone, give me your hands," has gotten me through some hard times. The death of my father had that song on the turntable for a while. The song "Heroes" to me was always the song that would be my wedding march, "we can beat them, forever and ever" was the most romantic thing I ever heard in a song. On April, 19th 2002 I walked down the aisle to "Heroes" with Jesse Akiyama Sundvall. It was one of the happiest days of my life. There are others but those two stand out the most at the moment.
How did I mourn his passing? One of the ways is by writing this article, I'm not crying and that is a good sign. The other was to go to a good old fashioned dive bar "Ego's" with some good friends and sing the song's by David Bowie that I love. I am happy to say that we were not the only ones there doing this. There are concerts and tributes going on all over the world. In Austin we changed Bowie St to David Bowie street in tribute. I know there are people who don't get it, but to make my point I will mention something that happened at my work. I was speaking to a girl who barely knew who he was, she said "David Bowie was never supposed to die." It all made perfect sense to me. We are not his family, for whom I have nothing but respect and a feeling of heartbreaking loss for. We are not his close friends either, but when we think about David Bowie we believe that he is our friend. Some in the absence of family may even think of him as family. The point being that there was something in David Bowie that spoke to us, on a deep and personal level. So the loss we feel is justified. Remember, you're not alone.
