By Rosalie Tirella

David Bowie died a few days ago of something as prosaic – and mysterious – as cancer (loved ones aren’t disclosing which kind). He was, to me, a fantastic glam singer songwriter, right up there with my #1, Marc Bolan of T Rex. For me Bowie was never sexy-gorgeous like Bolan, who had infinite animal magnetism, but he was beautiful – like a gold snake – an avatar of everything sleek, dramatic and shimmering. He was great because his glimmery costumes, painted nails and rouged cheeks could not mask THE LOVE, THE PURE FEELINGS in his songs. His makeup amplified his music, set it out on some cosmic stage, flanked by pink, twirling planets, shooting stars and egg-shaped spaceships hurtling to … who knows where? You were in the middle of it all – the cobalt galaxies were yours to behold, courtesy of Bowie. Step into the void. What void?

I remember when I first heard HEROES. Really listened to the song, transported by the music and the Bowie baritone! It is my FAVORITE Bowie tune, propelling you to do the right thing, soar into the heavens of goodness! Even just for one day! I bet you have a Bowie moment, too! I bet you remember the night you pogoed around your dorm room to REBEL, REBEL, swooned to LET’S DANCE with a boyfriend who was wearing mascara. And you felt FREE!

We love you, David! Your music will swirl through the Milky Way forever. Straight to the heart of every 15-year-old kid – past and present!