I'm 19 years old. It's The Summer of '75.
I'm riding shotgun in "The Blue Deuce" -a '68 (?) Oldsmobile 225. Navy
blue. White pebble-grained vinyl roof. Hood so long, you could play a set of
tennis on it.
The pilot: My ace-boon cruising mate, 'Boogamain.'
Me and Boog went everywhere together. Inseparable. We had our own unique
style as runnin' mates. Our own language. A 'simpatico' that often precluded the
use of words at all. We could communicate entire paragraphs to each other with
just a fleeting facial expression.
We're waiting for the traffic light at Market & Metcalf to change.
First in line at the stop light. Middle of the day. 4 or 5 cars lined up behind
us. This tune comes on:
"Boomf/dodaaadot, dodaaadot, dodaaadot- doodadooKAAAAIN... (X4)
{David Bowie's voice]: "Faaaame- makes a man take things over...."
...and I lost it.
Keeping my (outer) cool, I looked at Boog. Then I looked at the radio. Then
I looked back at Boog ( with popped-open eyes), and said: "Daaaaaamn!"
As I was staring directly at him, I grabbed the door latch- and opened the
passenger door. Boog instinctively understood... he reached over, turned the
radio up to 11... and popped the pilot's door loose.
3 seconds later, Boogamain and 'B2' were dancing on the streets of Lima,
Ohio... to David Bowie's 'Fame.'
Such is the power of Music.
Horns be honkin'
Folks be cussin' us OUT.
We didn't care. On that hot Summer day in 1975, David Bowie's jam stopped
traffic in a Midwestern American town. For two full cycles.
Civic order: short-circuited.
When music interrupts life... it becomes Art.
___________________
Throughout that entire Summer, whenever Boogamain and I were together on the road
(...and we were 'Road Doggs' a LOT that year...), we'd stop whatever we were
doing... and dance to David Bowie. Dude even shut down a powerboat while I was
water-skiing. When I heard the Panasonic hand-held Big Box blasting back from
the boat... I started dancing- in the water (...it's hard to 'bust stylish
moves' with a big orange life preserver strapped to your torso...).
Such is the power of music.
For 40 years, I've paid homage to that moment in Life when Boog & Me
helped Bowie stop traffic in a small midwestern industrial town. Every single
time that tune comes on the radio, I 'stop, drop.... and roll,' yo. I was even
late for a wedding gig in Ann Arbor because I pulled over on Highway 23 near
Dundee, MI... and paid tribute to Bowie.
Such is the power of music.
___________________
This morning at 7:15 AM, Ella Bitchgerald woke me up to take her outside
for her morning ritual. When we were done, I logged onto the internet- and
learned that David Bowie had died.
Without a second thought, I YouTube'd 'Fame,' pushed it to my whole-house
sound system...
...and this morning- even before my first cup of coffee- a 59 year-old man
danced like he was 19 again.
Such is the power of music.
I'm too busy reveling in all that he shared with us to mourn what we can no longer have. We have 50 years of gifts from David. Now is the time for us to start truly cherishing them- and the memories they evoke in all of us.
Rest well, Maj. Tom.
'Ground Control' has your 'six.'
