And the Stars Look Very Different Today: Remembering David Bowie

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Remembering David Bowie
Remembering David Bowie

AND THE STARS LOOK VERY DIFFERENT TODAY
Writers reflect on David Bowie

A PARTIAL LIST
A PARTIAL LIST

BY RICHARD Z. SANTOS
Despite all he accomplished, here’s a partial list of things Bowie never did

CAN YOU HEAR ME, MAJOR TOM?
CAN YOU HEAR ME, MAJOR TOM?

BY ALLY MALINENKO
It was probably 1985. Yes, that sounds right. That would make me eight. 

THE STARS LOOK DIFFERENT
THE STARS LOOK DIFFERENT

BY EILEEN TOMARCHIO
I was twelve when I first heard Space Oddity.

LOOK UP: HOW DAVID BOWIE HELPED ME SEE
LOOK UP: HOW DAVID BOWIE HELPED ME SEE

BY AMY LYONS
We were a football field of fans awaiting the leper messiah’s entrance.

ZIGGY PLAYED LEFT FIELD
ZIGGY PLAYED LEFT FIELD

BY BRENT TERRY
Ziggy played guitar.  I played left field for Wyoming Tradesmen.

SPACE, MY MOTHER, AND DAVID BOWIE
SPACE, MY MOTHER, AND DAVID BOWIE

BY RHIAN ELLIS
David Bowie was my mother's music. In the early seventies, she played it all the time, usually loudly, often while drinking and crying. 

CHANGES
CHANGES

BY DANA CANN
In June 1972, men tied to President Nixon’s reelection campaign were arrested when they broke into the offices of the Democratic National Committee at the Watergate office complex, while my older brother turned twelve and received, as a gift from our parents, a stereo, the first in our house.

SWEET THING/CANDIDATE/SWEET THING (REPRISE)
SWEET THING/CANDIDATE/SWEET THING (REPRISE)

BY BRITTANY HAILER
It’s safe in the city to love in a doorway

SWEET THING/CANDIDATE/SWEET THING (REPRISE)
SWEET THING/CANDIDATE/SWEET THING (REPRISE)

BY BRITTANY HAILER
It’s safe in the city to love in a doorway
A drag queen grabs my waist and launches me into The Tube. I am her mini-me, dressed to compliment her red and black outfit. She is larger than life and everyone else on the train.

WHEN HE'S FIVE
WHEN HE'S FIVE

BY SEAN L SULLIVAN
When I was a teenager, I frequented a place next store to the movie theater where I worked called the ‘Paperback Exchange.’

THE GOBLIN KING AND ME
THE GOBLIN KING AND ME

BY SARA CAMPBELL
1987. I am 11 years old and I am already an inveterate babysitter on a Saturday night gig.

DEATH, LOVE, SEX, AND MEMORY (THE DAY DAVID BOWIE DIED)
DEATH, LOVE, SEX, AND MEMORY (THE DAY DAVID BOWIE DIED)

BY NATE BROWN
I want to stay on track here—to write about David Bowie in some significant way—but I’m having a hard time thinking of death, which is weird, specifically because the man has just died and, more generally, because I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking and writing about death.

LOOKING AT DAVID BOWIE IN A TEEN MAGAZINE WHILE HIDING IN THE BATHROOM FROM MY FAMILY
LOOKING AT DAVID BOWIE IN A TEEN MAGAZINE WHILE HIDING IN THE BATHROOM FROM MY FAMILY

BY K. R. ROSMAN
The boys are ones and the girls are zeroes because boys hit harder and a 0 looks like it would embrace you.

THIS CHAOS IS KILLING ME
THIS CHAOS IS KILLING ME

BY J BRADLEY
As I read the various feeds mourning David Bowie’s passing, I see Heroes, Low, Ziggy Stardust name checked as some of his best work. There is only one other person I’ve seen acknowledge David Bowie’s Outside in some capacity.

LET'S DANCE
LET'S DANCE

BY MELISSA STEPHENSON
In 1983 my older (and only) sibling took me to buy my first album. On vinyl, he insisted. It’s the only way.

GROUP THERAPY: REMEMBERING DAVIE BOWIE
GROUP THERAPY: REMEMBERING DAVIE BOWIE

A BARRELHOUSE ROUND TABLE

THAT VOICE
THAT VOICE

BY SHEILA SQUILLANTE
The last time I cried over a celebrity death was in 1990.