It’s the Freakiest Show

Childhood fascination that never died . . . Bowie, Life on Mars, and lips.

I was mesmerized by M’s mother’s record collection ever since I saw Pin-Ups leaning against the couch.

Though we weren’t allowed to touch her mother’s stereo, we sneaked listens when her mother left us alone in the house. The fear of getting caught, combined with the music and my attraction to the man with strange eyes set my nerves on edge and made my skin prickle.

The unbleached version of Life on Mars makes me think of slightly worn and much-touched album covers.

Growing up, I felt like a boy. When I discovered David Bowie, something beyond gender stirred in me. He cracked open a snake egg in my spine and my nervous system squirmed. His voice took me out of my body and put me in the stars.

I grew wings and could fly.

I experienced cosmic being-ness—forget that I was a pudgy little girl with frizzy hair and glasses who felt like a boy—I was no longer human.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Life on Mars, Sharp and clean version: