When I was a teenager it felt like I’d live forever. By 18 or 19 I had lost that feeling of invincibility, but transferred some of its essence to a select group of celebrities whom I admired. David Bowie was one of those lucky few. Brilliant, enigmatic, mysterious … in my mind, mythical … it felt like Bowie would live forever.
I had a chance to see the Ziggy Stardust tour in NYC, but for some reason it didn’t work out. Funny how I can’t remember what kept me from going, but if I had seen Bowie in 1973, I’m quite sure I’d have no problem recalling THAT experience today.
Then in 1974 I had a chance to see his Diamond Dogs tour when he came to Indianapolis. “But I want to see Ziggy,” I thought. (A friend who had gone to the show I was too “busy” to attend told me how “completely blown away” he was.) I’ll just wait until he comes back around with that show.
Here’s the thing: Bowie never came back around with anything. Rather, he broke barriers and blew our minds for another 42 years … and every time I might have seen Bowie live there was always something keeping me from going, any sense of urgency lulled to sleep by my fabricated assumption that he’d be around forever.
When I saw “The Man Who Fell to Earth” (I think at the Harvard Square Theatre — still one of my favorite movies) I remember saying to myself I MUST see Bowie live someday.
Monday morning when I awoke to the news of Bowie’s death (which felt shockingly untimely) reality hit: “Planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do …” I’m never going to see Bowie live.
Vickie and I were just saying last week that we had to see Bowie on this next tour … and I was confident that we would because, even as recently as last week, it still felt like Bowie would live forever. And he will through his music. We still have that … here’s his latest masterpiece.