Thank you, David Bowie. Here’s What You Did For Me…

January 14th, 2016

With the passing of David Bowie, I have been thinking a lot about why is it that these artists, these people I don’t even know who have died recently have effected me so much. The death of Scott Weiland crushed me. Many felt like, ”Yes, but he was a total druggy.” One person posted, “Congratulations Scott on being sober for 24 hours.” Meaning, 24 hours after his death he was sober. Not real nice and not something I am into.

So, I started pondering, why did I cry when Scott Weiland died? Why did I shed a tear when Bowie died, or David Jones? Why am I obsessed with knowing everything prior to his death, or after? Was he cremated, where is his funeral? No funeral? WHAT?

These musicians bring me back to a place in time. They bring up a memory that was so sweet and I can remember an entire scene in high fidelity, like from a movie where I discovered my love for them. I can remember what I had on, I can remember that I was looking at the food on my tray and I can remember plotting.

With David, I can remember being in the cafeteria in high school, sitting there eating my French onion soup and thinking, “I have to get Aladdin Sane. Maybe someone will get it for me for Christmas. Maybe if I ask for more work around the house, my parents will give me more allowance.” Then, that night I called my brother. This was always a wise move once. “You know, I really like David Bowie.” I can’t stop thinking of ‘Panic In Detroit.’ Do you know of him?” Which when I think about it now, was kind of hilarious. Did my brother know of him? Yes, yes he did. My brother is twelve years older than me. He knew of him and somewhat laughed and proceeded to tell me how David Bowie had been Ziggy Stardust. I couldn’t put it together how he was the guy who sang, “Modern Love.” Needless to say, I received the album a few weeks later, thanks to my brother. My brother loved music as much as I did and was more than willing to show me the way when it came to introducing me to some of the greatest. Back then…

Bowie transitioned and went from this Ronald McDonald hair colored interesting cat, to wearing dapper suits and singing about little China girls. I was obsessed. One eye green, one eye brown…only lead to his appeal. He was like no one else.

The biggest thing I remember that he did for me…and yes, I mean, “he” did for me, was to make me feel like I was not a total outcast. I was transitioning into something other than having long hair (that many people still remember) and also just not really wanting to fit in with the sheep of highschool. I got my hair cut so short and had it shaved on the sides and in the back. I started becoming even more artsy. I listened to U2, INXS and Simple Minds and was thinking more about art. I entered theater in 10th grade and loved it. I was drawing more, listening to so much music and experimenting with fashion. Turn to the left.

David Bowie made me feel that anything was possible. If this guy can go on stage and wear a kimono and platform shoes, or high heels and dangling rhinestone earrings, and a full face of makeup than it is possible for me to be and do what I want with my life. Yeah, that’s it! I don’t have to fit in, I don’t have to hang out with the cool girls and wear Jams. Jam shorts. I despised those shorts. Hawaiian bright shorts? No, instead, I decided to wear the Michael Jackson glove a year before…which, as we know is SO much cooler. NOT! I wore pink converse and rhinestone earrings. David Bowie inspired me to ‘do what you want, be who you are and it’s okay. Don’t worry what others think.’ And, that was it. Pink Floyd’s lyrics helped me here, too.

The awkward days of worrying over “who am I, what is acceptable,” were over. What a relief. I was becoming who I am today. A free thinker.

And so I love him. As do countless others. I still have those rhinestone earrings.
The death of these artists is sobering. We realize we are mere mortals and if greatness like David Bowie, Natalie Cole, or Scott Weiland can just become ashes to ashes…we can too. Even more importantly, they take a little bit of us with them when they die. A part of us goes with them. Just like a part of us goes with our loved ones who die. These musicians are like family, too.

Who’s next?

To the David Bowie’s of the world. The Scott Weiland’s who bring a song, a video, a mood and moment into our lives that we will never forget. A romance, a kiss, an album that gets us over a past relationship, a song that becomes a lifeline.

A song we rock out to, laugh at and fall in love with every time we hear it;

“I’m an alligator, I’m a mama-papa coming for you
I’m the space invader, I’ll be a rock ‘n’ rollin’ bitch for you
Keep your mouth shut, you’re squawking like a pink monkey bird
And I’m busting up my brains for the words.”

Ashes to ashes. Unfortunately.

Thank you, David Jones. Thank you to all of the artists that have inspired me and lifted me up over the years. And, have given me names for my JEWELS.