Benny has a much better David Bowie story than I do, but this is my blog and not his so I’ll tell you my dumb David Bowie story now. It’s not really a story and it’s not even about David Bowie.
My high school freshman year best friends Mona and Laura and I had been trying to figure out how to get to Santa Cruz without asking our parents to drive us. It was a bit of a long haul from Sunnyvale to Santa Cruz, and there was no way our parents would just drive us there without expecting to hang out with us, and that was simply not acceptable to us freshman year of high school. Mona’s mom, maybe. She was a “cool mom” and generally let us alone when we got there, but she still wasn’t too enthusiastic about driving us all of the time. It might have been her who found the solution to our problem, come to think of it. Greyhound.
Yes, Greyhound had a bus that took us straight from Sunnyvale to Santa Cruz, and it was cheap. The first time we took it, we could not believe our luck. Why didn’t we do this all the time? What a deal. Freedom. Fun. The bus. Anyway, the first time we did it the ride was uneventful, but the second time one of us wound up sitting next to a bleach-blonde woman in her mid-thirties. This lady started talking to us about music, and then she said, “Oh hey? Do you know David Bowie?” This was 1984. Yes, we knew David Bowie. “I’m his ex-wife.” Angie Bowie.
We all said our “wow, how cool”s and then there really wasn’t anything further to say. She made some vague comments about how she could probably get us backstage at his next show, but the whole thing just seemed a little off. I think Mona got her phone number out of some sense of politeness, but we never called her, and I don’t remember us taking the Greyhound to Santa Cruz after that. I’m not sure if it was really Angie Bowie on the bus or if it even matters. Mona is dead now and Laura doesn’t talk to me any more, so I have this dumb memory just kind of clattering around in my head without anybody to share it with. Like I said, it’s not really a story but I wanted this memory to stop clattering around so I wrote it down here.
Anyway, here’s a song not written or performed by David Bowie and not about Angie Bowie as far as I’ve been able to tell, but I couldn’t get it out of my head last night when I found out David Bowie died. Please enjoy, preferably not on a bus with someone who’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.