I have a good friend, a very smart guy, who has a sort of redneck-sophisticate personality. He is loud and brash and unafraid to go skinny-dipping in the boss' pool at an office party. He was more than a little rough around the edges and put quite a few people off, but if you got past the exterior he is great fun to be around—intensely creative and willing to put in the effort to bring his ideas to life. Impulsive as hell and utterly unconcerned what anyone else thought of him. A lot of fun to be around.
He was a huge David Bowie fan. Named his beloved dog Ziggy. He was also utterly disgusted by gay people. Nowadays you'd call him a homophobe, but that never was an accurate term; he just found gay things icky, and he had a hyper-masculine personality. He is the only person I've ever had suggest an evening of gay-bashing, and I'll never know if he meant it or not.
When the Ziggy Stardust movie came to town he had to see it, and invited a bunch of friends along. And Ziggy was ever so gay.
You gotta wonder how someone listened to all that music and looked at all those album covers and never figured out what was going on, but the '70s were like that. All kinds of bands affected androgynous appearances as a fashion statement. It meant nothing other than yet another way to epater le bourgeoisie and establish yourself as a rebel hipster. I mean, did anyone think Alice Cooper was gay? Seriously? So maybe he gets a pass on that level of density.
The movie shook him up a bit.
Fast forward a few decades. He's out now, comfortably bi, posting pictures on Facebook wearing a Speedo and kissing boys at the Pride parade. My wife (who was there that night at the movie theater) says in retrospect she can trace the change back to that night.
I hope so. That would be a fitting legacy for Mr. Bowie.
Nice story. I'm kind of sad that men seem to have lost the ability to be straight and camp since that era.
... not that it applies to myself or any other Rpeeps...
(...) Fast forward a few decades. He's out now, comfortably bi, posting pictures on Facebook wearing a Speedo and kissing boys at the Pride parade. My wife (who was there that night at the movie theater) says in retrospect she can trace the change back to that night.
I hope so. That would be a fitting legacy for Mr. Bowie.
Pop psychology suggests that the greatest bashers are in fact engaged in the suppression of (secret) desires...
I have a good friend, a very smart guy, who has a sort of redneck-sophisticate personality. He is loud and brash and unafraid to go skinny-dipping in the boss' pool at an office party. He was more than a little rough around the edges and put quite a few people off, but if you got past the exterior he is great fun to be around—intensely creative and willing to put in the effort to bring his ideas to life. Impulsive as hell and utterly unconcerned what anyone else thought of him. A lot of fun to be around.
He was a huge David Bowie fan. Named his beloved dog Ziggy. He was also utterly disgusted by gay people. Nowadays you'd call him a homophobe, but that never was an accurate term; he just found gay things icky, and he had a hyper-masculine personality. He is the only person I've ever had suggest an evening of gay-bashing, and I'll never know if he meant it or not.
When the Ziggy Stardust movie came to town he had to see it, and invited a bunch of friends along. And Ziggy was ever so gay.
You gotta wonder how someone listened to all that music and looked at all those album covers and never figured out what was going on, but the '70s were like that. All kinds of bands affected androgynous appearances as a fashion statement. It meant nothing other than yet another way to epater le bourgeoisie and establish yourself as a rebel hipster. I mean, did anyone think Alice Cooper was gay? Seriously? So maybe he gets a pass on that level of density.
The movie shook him up a bit.
Fast forward a few decades. He's out now, comfortably bi, posting pictures on Facebook wearing a Speedo and kissing boys at the Pride parade. My wife (who was there that night at the movie theater) says in retrospect she can trace the change back to that night.
I hope so. That would be a fitting legacy for Mr. Bowie.
I have a good friend, a very smart guy, who has a sort of redneck-sophisticate personality. He is loud and brash and unafraid to go skinny-dipping in the boss' pool at an office party. He was more than a little rough around the edges and put quite a few people off, but if you got past the exterior he is great fun to be around—intensely creative and willing to put in the effort to bring his ideas to life. Impulsive as hell and utterly unconcerned what anyone else thought of him. A lot of fun to be around.
He was a huge David Bowie fan. Named his beloved dog Ziggy. He was also utterly disgusted by gay people. Nowadays you'd call him a homophobe, but that never was an accurate term; he just found gay things icky, and he had a hyper-masculine personality. He is the only person I've ever had suggest an evening of gay-bashing, and I'll never know if he meant it or not.
When the Ziggy Stardust movie came to town he had to see it, and invited a bunch of friends along. And Ziggy was ever so gay.
You gotta wonder how someone listened to all that music and looked at all those album covers and never figured out what was going on, but the '70s were like that. All kinds of bands affected androgynous appearances as a fashion statement. It meant nothing other than yet another way to epater le bourgeoisie and establish yourself as a rebel hipster. I mean, did anyone think Alice Cooper was gay? Seriously? So maybe he gets a pass on that level of density.
The movie shook him up a bit.
Fast forward a few decades. He's out now, comfortably bi, posting pictures on Facebook wearing a Speedo and kissing boys at the Pride parade. My wife (who was there that night at the movie theater) says in retrospect she can trace the change back to that night.
I hope so. That would be a fitting legacy for Mr. Bowie.
Overheard on an NPR show sign-off earlier today, paraphrased: Whatever else in your news today, know this—The earth is approximately 4.5 Billion y.o. And if you’re listening to this, count your blessings that you spent part of that time on the planet with David Bowie.
Very touching.
Agreed! Blessings counted. Check! He's not all that much older than me. Thanks for the wake up call!!
From Wiki: "The original 1970 US release of The Man Who Sold the World employed a cartoon-like cover drawing by Bowie's friend Michael J. Weller, featuring a cowboy in front of the Cane Hill mental asylum."
I had a demo cassette from Ned years and years ago. Trying for a Kinky Friedman sort of success, I guess.
i love this. thanks for sharing.
