FOUR BOWIE MOMENTS
I have to say, this is the first time I've been truly shaken up over the death of someone I've never met. Previously, I wouldn't have said that about any musician, artist or celebrity of any kind. With a heavy heart and ringing ears (it's been a Bowie marathon), I'm reminded of some of the moments of my life that are forever entwined with the Thin White Duke.
One Christmas, my aunt got my family a copy of the Jim Henson classic Labyrinth. I don't know exactly how old I was, but it's safe to say I was young and impressionable. As kids we watched it on repeat. I remember one night sitting down to watch the movie, and this time, I found the whole Helping Hands scene terrifying. My mom told us that we were done Labyrinth in our household, and I never saw the VHS tape again. The movie, however, I've watched since.
I must have been no more than 10 years old. You remember the singles cassettes where they have the radio and karaoke versions on the same tape? Slipping into a wide-legged stance (seemed Bowie-esque right?) and shaking my hips, I can remember the magenta flower wallpaper pattern that wrapped the room. Bowie wasn't even my parents' thing. I don't remember how the cassette got to me.
The song's storyline bears a striking resemblance to the Twilight Zone episode, "Probe 7, Over and Out", and will forever be linked in my brain. They don't match up entirely, but I can't experience one without thinking of the other.
During college, one of my favorite Columbus haunts had a pretty legendary juke box. Though newer versions existed, it was of the old school kind with a limited album capacity. You had to be on first-name terms with the owners to get your favorite CD included in the mix, and my college friends were. Though no sway was needed to include this Bowie album, and "Ziggy Stardust" was a nightly anthem.
Cheers to the person who served as an inspiration for all us weirdos. Rest in peace, David Bowie.