Part of me wants to say “Hip Hip Hooray for Rob Portman!” The republican senator from Ohio came out yesterday in support of same-sex marriage – which is gutsy in a party that generally thinks homosexuals are deviants, the earth is seven thousand years old, and all you need are bootstraps to be as fat and happy as Wall Street CEOs.
It seems Rob’s son came out to him and that is what changed his mind. This is all still laudable, but when you are unable to have empathy for any sort of person until there is one of those sorts of people in your own family you might be lacking a sufficient amount of empathy. I’m not even sure empathy is what we feel for our own children considering the absolute closeness we feel with them. The sadness and joy we feel when our own children feel sadness and joy seems closer to some sort of Vulcan mind meld than something called empathy.
Either way, I’ll go with “Hip Hip Hooray!” And add, “Welcome to the enlightenment, the 21st century, and common human decency!”
Had I the option as a teenager, I would have done anything in my power to be David Bowie. I have this seared memory of my own 8-ish-year-old self kneeling in my jammies in front of the television and Wolfman Jack’s Midnight Special watching Ziggy Stardust sing “Ground control to Major Tom…” It was a life changing moment. I didn’t know guys could look like that. I didn’t know guys who looked like that could play an acoustic guitar. I was supposed to be in bed – everyone else was in bed, but instead… I woke up different.
So as a huge fan i’ve been only slightly impressed recently with Mr. Bowie’s output. As a huge fan, I, of course, like it all, but I’ve been waiting to have my mind blown. Me. Jammies. Midnight Special. Freak out. Where’s the moment?! Got it. It’s now. The Next Day.
One listen and I’m willing to commit – This is a great Bowie album!! You have to go back to Scary Monsters to get this quality Bowie! Who saw that coming?
It’s not quite the kid in jammies, but definitely a flashback in real time to the best of what this amazing dude can do. I’m dancing out in space – again.
I don’t love the cover though. Flash and the Pan already played that silly card. And it was awesome. Interesting though, do covers even matter to the generations of kids who didn’t grow up clutching and reading every album cover, front and back, down to the “mastered by…” and soaking up the lyric-laden inside sleeves of every album that mattered in any way whatsoever?