Hi everyone, and I guess happy new year, since I haven’t posted since last November (bad blogger, bad blogger, I know!).
So I feel really crushed by the news of David Bowie’s passing. As I just read somewhere on the Internet: ‚It never occurred to me that David Bowie could die.‘ That’s exactly how I feel.
It reminds me of what it was like when my parents passed away. My dad went when I was only 15, which is not that illogical if you do the math that he was already 54 when I was born. My mom died 15 years later, which made a little more sense in terms of numbers, but of course it hit me just as hard anyway. You don’t expect parents to die. They were there before us, they brought us here, they were always around when we needed them (and, annoyingly so, even when we didn’t). How the hell are we supposed to deal with the fact that they’re gone? It’s impossible. All we can do is slowly, gradually and grudgingly, get used to it. The loss remains.
So that’s what I felt like when I read of Lou Reed’s death in 2013, and I feel the same way about David Bowie’s passing away today. Both of these men were larger than life, iconic geniuses to me; I learned to love their music as a teenager in the Eighties, and incidentally it was David Bowie’s album Station to Station, especially his sensual and heartbreakingly beautiful rendition of Nina Simone’s ‚Wild is the Wind‘ that brought me a lot of consolation when I was grieving for my dad.
I admire just about everything I ever read or saw of David Bowie’s public persona – his music, his astonishing sense of style, his dry humor, and his beautiful face. He was a hero for so many gay, bisexual and questioning young people, not by being an activist, but by simply and unapologetically being who he was, and that’s amazing.
My husband and I were listening to some of his more recent music over the holidays, and of course we got to talk about him, as you will when you remember your youth. I don’t even have that many heroes in pop culture, but now, I have one less. Therefore, sad.