Space Oddity

     I didn’t have much advanced notice I was going to rehab, I was 16 and it really wasn’t my decision. I don’t think anyone gives it much forethought, rehab isn’t exactly a vacation. I made sure I packed my favorite shirt and pants, probably not enough underwear and a few socks. In the late 80s I only owned a few cds and had no way to play them away from home so I needed to bring whatever cassettes I could. I anticipated hours of down time and music would be a must but my vast vinyl collection would be of no use. I had no idea what to expect of rehab but I was sure I would need something to drown out my thoughts.

      If I had a few days notice I would be away from home for some time I could have made my own cassette copies of my favorite records. Pink Floyds The Wall, 4 or 5 Hendrix records, some Zeppelin and an Aerosmith or 2 but with no warning I had few options. I didn’t buy tapes. Cassettes sound awful, wear out and break; besides, I didn’t drive so there was zero reason for me to waste my money on cassettes. I left for upstate NY with the only 2 tapes I owned, The Rolling Stones Hot Rocks and David Bowie Space Oddity. I wasn’t a huge fan of either and could not recall where or how I acquired them but it was better than nothing.

     Few things arouse hope like your first rehab and my early days went quickly. My roommate Joe and new surroundings were a welcomed diversion from my typical monotonous activities. Joe was into the Stones and Hot Rocks played continuously until Joe was moved to another unit and I left alone with my thoughts. At some point I placed Space Oddity into the boom box and pressed play.

     Certainly not regarded as Bowie’s finest album Space Oddity was/is not well known other than the title tracks tale of Major Tom but the overall melancholic tone of the record provided a superb soundtrack for my dreary room and dispirited mood. Floating in space aimlessly seemed a much better option than facing my emotions and accepting responsibility for my actions. Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed was surely inspired by my social life and I swear I wrote the Letter to Hermione in all of its heart broken charm. David Bowie sang songs of old women stealing money and wild eyed children at music festivals and failed relationships…all of them delivered with a beautiful sadness that resonated with an emotionally overwhelmed adolescent. Space Oddity played steadily for the entirety of my five week stay but rarely if ever after my discharge.

      The combination of casual dating and Columbia House record club reunited me with a cd copy of Space Oddity. I was no longer an adolescent, in fact I was approaching 30 but as the songs played I sang every word. The better part of fifteen years had passed but I closed my eyes and I was lying on my bed, in that dreary room and my heart was filled with angst, confusion, heartache and all the dreadful hideousness of my youth. I could feel it, taste it…David had provided a time machine. It had been half my life since I felt this way, I was awe struck by the power of music and Bowie. I was transported completely and honestly, it was distressing to revisit such uncomfortable sorrow. So much so, that I never listened to that album again. I have resisted the urge to impress anyone else with my ability to sing every lyric of Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud. That is, until now.

    The news of David Bowie’s death has encouraged me to listen to Space Oddity again and brave its time traveling powers. Now in my mid 40s I have settled the vast majority of any juvenile issues but David can still bring me back to that long lost time almost 30 years ago. I am not David Bowie’s biggest fan and far from his most loyal but this one record is quite possibly the most significant of my life.