Tuesday, January 12, 2016
My Breakfast With Bowie
Back in the days when alternative-rock was still kind of a new thing there was a radio station called 99X. They had a really good (for radio at the time) morning show. Look, radio was all we had back then people. And way back in early 1997 they were heavily advertising that they were going to have David Bowie play a show in the morning at Smith's Olde Bar. For those of you not from Atlanta it's a pretty small venue. The kind of place that normally hosts smaller or local acts. I think it holds a few hundred people max so it was kind of a big deal for someone like David Bowie to play there. As I never seemed to be able to get through when they were giving tickets to the 10th caller I couldn't get my hands on the coveted passes. I was waiting tables at the time so was working late nights, and on my way home from work the night before the show the DJ was talking about giving away more tickets at the venue before the show. Doors were to open at 6 in the morning, and they would draw names to see the show. Since it was already after 1 by the time I got home I woke up Mr. Tibbs, and said "hey, do you wanna go see David Bowie this morning"? He groggily agreed, and the coffee mainlining began.
So the girl sitting with us had her name called first. Clap, clap, bitch. I knew we still had a chance though, and our new friends hadn't quite become our new enemies yet. When the guy of the couple had his name drawn it all went horribly awry. Since he was getting in with his girl he sent Mr. Tibbs up to claim the tickets in his name. The DJ must have noticed something was up because he then asked Mr. Tibbs some of the other information that was on the card. In classic Mr. Tibbs fashion he turned to me for answers when asked for his address. Then the DJ jumped the gun and tried to have us all thrown out for cheating or collusion or whatever. One of the other DJ's (who we had been chatting nicely with an hour before) comes over and starts yelling at us in front of the whole place, and was really just being unnecessarily shitty towards us. Enough so that a station manager comes over and tries to make nice with us. Once I explained everything that led up to our being publicly humiliated (which I admit I played as more upset than I really was in hope of seeing David Bowie). She offered our table 3 passes for the 4 of us. The couple who were once our friends grab 2 passes and disappear upstairs. I asked for another pass as nicely as I've ever asked for anything ever, but she would only give us one.
Now comes the part of the story that made me realize Mr. Tibbs was a true keeper. Skip ahead if you don't want to read any mushy love crap. He said to take the single ticket and go without him since I was a bigger fan, and it had been my idea to come in the first place. I felt extremely guilty, but went anyway (I'm not an idiot!). I felt better knowing that he could at least watch on CCTV, but still...for him to sit alone in what was now a very crowded bar full of people who had gotten a good night of sleep was fairly damn awesome of him. Okay, enough with the feels. I'm sure you're ready to hear about the show.
now. Seven Years in Tibet is also a much better song done that way. It has nothing to do with any Brad Pitt movie, I promise. I can only find audio files with static pictures on youtube so I won't bother with links. It only counts if you're watching those two men play. My mom was so excited when I told her what we were doing that she turned on the radio in her office and taped it for me. My dad went back later and digitized a few of the best songs for me so I'll be able to hang on to that forever. I do still have the whole taped thing somewhere though.
I will always be thankful to getting to be a part of such a once in a lifetime experience, Not a lot of stars of his calibre would do something like that, and there will never be anyone else like him. I honestly can't even go on too much longer without getting this weird leaking from my eye sockets that us robots aren't supposed to have. I watched the video for the new song Lazarus, and dare anyone else not to leak ocular fluid. I had a pretty tough time writing after watching it till tell the truth. Watch it at your own risk.
Personally I don't like to think of Bowie as gone.
Maybe he's in the Black Lodge with Dale:
Beth got her start writing for a site called Movie Criticism for the Retarded (which has been revived as dorkdroppings.com. Check it out sometime), but was pulled out of an early retirement to write for Needless Things. When she isn't writing she plays video games and watches bad horror movies while eagerly awaiting the zombie apocalypse. She may try to save her husband and/or their cats, but luckily hasn't had to make those tough decisions yet.