I have been holding in the story, a real personal moment, the memory that started my deep love for the music of David Bowie. When I was growing up in the 80s, my mother used to play a ton of cassette tapes in her car. We would go on road trips up north and she would play The Cars, The Beach Boys, Heart, and so many other bands I loved, she also randomly tortured us with a single of ‘This used to be my playground” by Madge. The songs would bounce off the highway when we were in traffic. Nothing ever as clear and beautiful as when she would play David Bowie. She had a thing for him. I would close my eyes when ‘Space Oddity” came on, I would rock out to Fashion (a true fag from the get go), I would dream to his music as we climbed across the Lompoc mountains. Then of course there was Labyrinth, starring David Bowie’s giant codpiece. I was always a huge fan of both his music and his style. In the 90s, I went to Huntington Beach High during the day until 1, and then I would be at the Academy For The Performing Arts all afternoon—studying vocal techniques, musical theater, and even took playwriting classes. I was a classically trained vocalist who had a 4 1/2 octave range. My Mother wanted to be a folk singer, and my father is still a singer/songwriter, who had famously been in Dick Dales band when he was in high school. In the 90s I used to make her mix tapes of various musicians and bands I admired, and music has always been incredibly important to me. So, on one of the tapes I made my mom was ‘Space Oddity.’ I can remember so many times when I would sing and harmonize with her the car, and who ever forgets to clap? She took the first one, (guitar solo) (Clap,clap) and I took the second one (Guitar solo) (Clap,clap). It is one of the few moments in my life I can feel and see perfect in my head. In January 2000, my mother passed away from a staph infection of the lungs. I plunged into despair, and started doing drugs to numb my pain… but there is nothing that replaces your mother, the only person you were ever connected to physically. I coped, I grew, I preserved. I remember hearing Space Oddity again one day and it was hard to hear with the absent (clap, clap), but I realized that the song has always brought me closer to her. I can still experience those moments in the car in my head, and Bowie’s voice was always right under mine, and he still clapped. I know this story seems odd, and disjointed, but when he passed earlier this week, I fell apart because there was silence in my head. I imagined how distraught she would have been, and I cried FOR her. The first time I have cried for her in years. I have a magic feather still…. The recording is still here to make me feel connected to both of them, even though both of them are gone now. The music lives, and will always live, and through that, they live. Next time you hear Space Oddity,, clap for me.


'I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do'

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