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david bowie

Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying

I’ll tell you another big drawback with this house move thing. I (rather optimistically) packed up a lot of my books and music some months ago in anticipation of moving! So, of course, certain items I might have given little thought to for aeons suddenly take on a rosy, alluring glow, knowing they’re just beyond reach. Oh, I could undo the boxes (which are in the spare room), but fiddling with all that parcel tape is too depressing. So I’ll wait. And try more optimism as best I can.
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What’s Up?

Life update since the death of my father…

Mom has decided to sell this house and move somewhere smaller, so that we have some money in the bank as savings. Dad left no savings at all and had no life insurance. We’ll be staying in this area, though. We might even get a two-bedroom flat, actually. Neither of us are gardeners, so a garden would be a needless burden.
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Ziggy Plays Guitar

I recently bought the new David Bowie album, Heathen. It was okay—actually, it was a bit more than okay. I liked it a lot. The interest is part nostalgia these days, I guess. We all know his prime is long behind him (like probably 22 years behind him), but he’s still Bowie. He sounds the same, and he rather disgustingly looks the same too. Scary thought: he’s 55 now. There’s not much invention or newness in his current work, but… you know, Mick Jagger fans must really have to strain to not be embarrassed by him these days, so I tend to think Bowie’s held up rather well. He’s still a bit on the cool side even if he has nothing new to say. I didn’t expect Ziggy Stardust standard greatness, so I enjoyed it.
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