Around the time I turned 35, I started having what I often refer to as my second mid-life crisis. Ultimately, it caused me to do the same thing I did during my first mid-life crisis nine years earlier--I left Bloomington, Indiana, for a different city. This second crisis was marked by two rather interesting developments. First, I found myself consuming more beef jerky than usual. Second, I found myself listening to more David Bowie music than I ever had in my life. I'm still, for the life of me, trying to figure out if those things are related somehow or if it's just some random coincidence, which is not something I normally believe in. I do remember spending my 35th birthday in the rain--because that's what it typically does in South Bend on my birthday. I went out to celebrate in the usual fashion by going to Barnes & Noble and buying some music. I bought two classic Bowie albums because I felt I needed something other than the "Best Of" collection that I had. (I also remember buying the four-disc Roy Orbison box set because it was my birthday and I thought I owed myself a box set.)
Some months later, I found myself working in that very music department. Most of the staff consisted of people like me and I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed working with proper rock snobs. We frequently had discussions about movies and music and why this band sucked or why that artist was overrated. One day, my friend and colleague Alex looked at me and said, "Hunky, Ziggy, Low, or Heroes?" For those of you who think he just threw a bunch of random words at me, he was asking which David Bowie album was my favourite--Hunky Dory, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, Low, or Heroes. In hindsight, I kind of wonder why Aladdin Sane or Young Americans weren't in there. And I'm sure my sister would make an argument for Let's Dance as well. But of the four Alex mentioned, I gave him my answer. And all these years later, as much as I do like the other albums on that list (and I do), my favourite still hasn't changed.
I found myself this past week revisiting my David Bowie collection. I don't know why exactly. It started innocently enough with my putting a Bowie pin I had recently acquired onto the pocket of my denim jacket. I thought it would be a good idea to listen to some of his music in the car during my work commute. I started with my favourite on Wednesday morning and haven't really stopped.
I have a lot of random thoughts and emotions colliding against each other with regards to this week's album selection and listening to it again brought them all to the surface at once. I immediately recalled what I was going through sixteen years ago when I first bought the album. But something was hitting me on a much deeper level. As someone who never quite fit in with others--even among other oddballs, misfits, and outcasts--this album has always made me feel kind of... "welcome" is the best word I can think of to describe how this album makes me feel. I feel that Bowie was always a bit of an oddball himself, and he wasn't afraid to own it. I get the impression that his music--especially in the early days--was designed to be welcoming to other oddballs who lacked a sense of belonging. When I listen to it, I feel like I belong there--like I belong somewhere, even for just 41 minutes. I feel encouraged to own my own kookiness too.
As I said, this is still my favourite Bowie album, primarily because it includes two of my favourite songs of his--"Kooks" and "Life on Mars?" So this week, please enjoy the one and only David Bowie with his classic 1971 album, Hunky Dory.
Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and let all the children boogie!
Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
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