BLOG SHMOG, POPTHOMOLOGY IS 11!

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ME, T1D, AND "THE PRICE IS RIGHT"

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IT'S POPTHOMOLOGY'S DECENNIAL! SEND ME TIN!

Guys!! HEY GUYS!!!

Popthomology today is ten years old.

TEN. YEARS. OLD.

I've spent a full decade of my life writing and creating things for this site.

That's a long time.

For some of you, this may be the very first post you've read here (and the last). Some other folks have read nearly all 2596 of them. In the beginning, when the site was named "Diarrhea Island," the readers were my existing friends and family, along with a few people from a Howard Stern message board. Then, via the magic of the Internet, people came looking for information about diarrhea (which did not exist until I wrote a post directing people where to go), then diarrhea and Chipotle, then all kinds of other stuff, from nearly every country in the world. I've even had logins from the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of Justice, and even the White House (they read a post called "BOOBS," no joke). Around the time when I started properly photographing concerts again after a 20+ year absence, I changed the name to Popthomology, a name that didn't suggest I ran a site for fans of fecal matter.

And I just chugged along, for many years writing a new post every single day. I didn't have a plan or a vision -- the content was just going to be whatever I felt like making that day. I thought on February 28, 2008, hey, maybe I could do this for a year. And now ten have gone by, and there is no question that my life was profoundly changed for the better because I started this blog, something I could never have predicted sitting down to write and publish that first post.

After spending most of my adult life burying my creative ideas like so many cat turds in a litterbox, I desperately needed a voice. This site became that, and it worked as this construct to keep pushing myself to do more and do better. It's staggering to me that there's been nearly 2 million lifetime page views here. Even if you throw half of that away to bots or creepers, it's still more than the five views I was expecting. It was never my ambition to be a big, important thing -- I didn't want to do ads, or obnoxiously promote myself, or, most critically, write about things I didn't want to write about. Everything here is something that was important to me, whether it was a record review, a fiction piece, something funny my daughter said in the car, a political rant, pretty photographs, thrift store oddities, fake children's books, snarky holiday cards, or about how hilarious goats are. I think I may have originated the worldwide goat meme craze, but let's move on.

Naturally, I'm not the same person today as I was in 2008. Older and wiser, one hopes, and I no longer feel voiceless. I no longer feel like I didn't do right by some of the talents I had. I've had my say for ten years, and there's something very satisfying about that. What you can't see here in the digital archives are all the friendships I now have that never would have existed if I hadn't done this. Friendships that give my life color and depth, that bring love and support, that expanded my world to all kinds of ideas and opportunities, and brought me in like family. I know "gratitude" is a bit of a hack buzzword today, tossed around with the saccharine "blessed" and the snore-y "mindfulness," but man, I am grateful, in that way when you you know things really could've gone the other way, or just remained still and stagnant and grey.

I've slowed down posting here -- WAY down -- as a matter of practicality and natural run of things. I'm not done quite yet, but my energies are focused more on my health and gearing up for some new creative challenges that I'm really stoked about. I'm also utterly determined to give Popthomology a damn proper party for its decennial, which will take place sometime this year in Seattle, and I am thinking it will be a lot of FUN. Watch this space!

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read here, thank you to WN in AU who put in countless frustrating backend hours here to make this Frankensteined Blogger site function, thank you to everyone who encouraged me along the way or let me know that I did a good job or that I could do better, or who have stepped in to guest post along the way.

Ten years! Wow.

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SEATTLE WOMEN'S MARCH 2.0, 1/20/18, BY 15-YR-OLD PHOTOJOURNALIST GRACE TOM!

(Please to enjoy Popthomology friend and high school photojournalist/videographer Grace Tom back to this site for her coverage of the 2018 Women's March in Seattle! -- Marianne)

January 21st, 2017 was the first women's march I ever attended. It was mind-opening and heart-warming to see all the women getting together and using the voices they were given to make a difference. Fast-forward to one year later on January 20th, 2018 and I'm back at the Seattle's women's march and still blown away by the number of women, men and children that came to show support. Thousands of people gathered on that day to partake in societal change. From the hilarious signs, to the chanting and singing coming from the mouths of many, preaching what is right for our world and being a part of something bigger than themselves, brought some people to tears on this cloudy Seattle afternoon. It was clear that the energy and positivity didn't just affect the adults attending the march but influenced the children as well. 

It was very moving seeing young girls so enthusiastic and involved participating in this historical event that many will remember for a long time. Next time there is a march near you, I highly encourage that you join in for change, inclusion, and justice for all.

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NOT FAKE NEWS! POPTHOMOLOGY IS NINE!

This is how I would like to begin this annual post. Sing along, please:

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PEOPLE LIKE LISTS: MY FAVORITE 15 ALBUMS & EPS OF 2016

I'll give it to ya straight, my friends...I've been staring down this list for days, not sure where to begin. In a year of exceptional sadness as 2016 was, I don't gravitate towards music. I withdraw from it, not wanting to infuse my greatest pleasure with heavyhearted memories. Despite this and despite everything, the music that makes life so much better rolls on and through, whispering in my weary ear, "We got you, sister. We're not going to let you down. We're here when you are ready." And that is how it is, and how it will always be.

This year was filled with wonderful new releases from artists young and old, fresh or seasoned a f. Here are my 15 favorites.

LIKE THERE WOULDN'T BE SOMETHING FROM TY SEGALL ON THIS LIST

Ty Segall: Emotional Mugger (Drag City)

I am pretty sure Ty has made my list every year since I've been making this end-of-year best, which means three things: 1. He's a perpetually busy guy; 2. He's a endlessly talented guy, and; 3. I have good taste. I think the general music press thinks of young master Ty as mainly a frenetic garage rocker, but that does him a disservice, even though I in particular think there is zero wrong with being a frenetic garage rocker. You can hear it in everything he does, if you listen -- he has strong ideas of what he wants to produce, a vision, even... some fever dream of a Vanilla Fudge record covered in a spilled sticky can of Coke, the record player needle covered in sugary dust, vibrating madly in the grooves. There's a complexity there, from lyrical themes to layers of sound, that deserves your attention.

I can say without doubt the tour behind this record was one of the weirdest shows I've ever seen, and it was brilliant. Damn, if you're not on the Ty train by now, toot toot, get ON already.




LOS TWEEDY

Wilco: Schmilco (dBpm Records)

Spencer Tweedy: Geezer Love (self-released)

Speaking of prolific sorts, we have the father-and-son dynamic duo of Jeff and Spencer Tweedy. These guys made my last year's list with their album "Sukierae" under the name of TWEEDY, a rather Captain Obvious choice of band name, but I digress. This year, Father went back to his day job with Wilco and came up with "Schmilco," an aching little sweetheart of a record, Wilco at their warmest. Son went back to college and on his free time, wrote and recorded a 4-song EP, "Geezer Love," released on his 21st birthday, that sounds like a very gifted young man that's been paying very close attention for 21 years on to how to write, perform, and produce quality music, and then just does it as easily as normal college kids effortlessly barf Miller Lite on a foosball table. Kudos, you genetic wonders.





GEEZER LOVE

Iggy Pop: Pop Pop Depression (Loma Vista Records)

The Monkees: Good Times! (Rhino Records)

The Rolling Stones: Blue and Lonesome (Interscope)

David Bowie: Blackstar (Columbia Records)

This year, I taught my 11-year-old Newfoundland dog to balance a bone on her nose. Also this year, some of my other favorite olds surprised me with new tricks, or old tricks that were so old as to be new tricks again, or tricks that I won't be able to fathom in ten lifetimes. More power to ye, merry gentlemen.

It's been a great Iggy year: the "Gimme Danger" Stooges documentary, finding out about Iggy's pet bird Biggy Pop on Instagram, the release of "Post Pop Depression," and getting to see the album performed live at Seattle's Paramount Theater. "Post Pop Depression" teams alt-superstars Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age, Matt Helders from Arctic Monkeys, and the Dead Weather's Dean Fertita with the Ig, resulting in a lush, confident, thoughtful pre-MTV Bowie funk. Not punk, but plenty tough. Iggy Pop for President, Every Year.



I'm sure I'm far from the last fan or critic to expect a new album from the three surviving Monkees (Michael Nesmith, Mickey Dolenz, and Peter Tork, RIP Davy Jones) to end up on this kind of list. But "Good Times!" is such a wonderful surprise, varied and so solid throughout, with contributions from songwriters like Andy Partridge of XTC and Ben Gibbard from Death Cab for Cutie. The supporting 50th Anniversary Tour was a similar delight, and had me re-appreciating the Pre-Fab Four, who had the stone-cold balls to become a real band in the face of very determined opposition.



Nor did I AT ALL expect the latest release from the Rolling Stones to wow me. I am a giant Stones fan and have been since my earliest days, but let's be honest: they've been writing the same-sounding material for a verrrrrry long time now, autopilot recording artists. All musicians, should they last so long, face this problem. How does a band remain innovative, fresh, interesting, and cool? For the Stones, the answer in 2016 was in rehearsals for their extensive tours. When they started warming up by playing some of the old blues that was the foundation of the band in 1962, ears perked up and tape started rolling. It is so much FUN to hear the band having FUN with the music they love most of all.



I haven't been able to listen to David Bowie's "Blackstar" more than a few times. Its themes of violence and mortality are so emotionally provocative in light of his death this year that I can only absorb it in small doses and end up crying every time. I am utterly awestruck that he was able to write and complete this complex, difficult work when terminally ill. How? How?? Stronger, better, smarter, braver, and more talented than us all, now and forever.



WHY I LIVE IN SEATTLE

Acapulco Lips: S/T (Killroom Records)

Gazebos: Die Alone (Hardly Art)

Happy Times Sad Times: New Album (Jigsaw Records/Den Tapes) 

Steal Shit Do Drugs: S/T (Annibale Records)

Anyone who loves music would live happily in Seattle forever. There is what seems to be an endless supply of amazing new music, great live shows every night of the week, and an artistic community that is generous and supportive. Now we just have to do something about the cripplingly high housing costs and that pesky rain. Nah, scratch that last thought -- the rain might save us from the constant hellfires that will consume our planet soon enough! Cheers! Anyway, here are some of my favorites that just so fortunately happen to be in my Pac NW vicinity.

Something I really appreciate about Acapulco Lips is they appreciate VINTAGE SOUNDS. I am highly fussy about authenticity when it comes to this topic, and this band always gets it so right. Walk right back to 1966 with a little surf style, girl group sweetness, and frug-dancin' garage beat. YEAH!



I fully expect Gazebos to take over the world someday. Until then, we have "Die Alone," which I think just hints at what they can musically accomplish with such talented people on board. They don't sound like anyone else, don't look like anyone else, vocal power for days, and hooks that worm into your brain so bad you might need to see the doctor.



There is just something about Happy Times Sad Times that turns me into a slobbering, head-banging nut, which happens with only select bands like the Gories, whom I revere. If you can turn this battered middle-aged music fan into a 16-year-old pogo princess, you've got POWER. HTST not only rocks out, though -- downtempo songs are just as compelling. This band deserves a lot more attention in Seattle -- get 'em on the bill, Capitol Hill!

Extra-mega-special thank you to the band for featuring my daughter Cameron's art (tiny practice drawings of mouths that I found in her garbage can!) on the cover of "New Album!"

I'm a yuuuuge fan of Steal Shit Do Drugs and was highly damn stoked when their self-titled full-length album arrived on my porch all the way from Italy just a few weeks ago. I'm just as stoked that they will be doing their first European tour in the early part of 2017 and may hide myself in a drum case just to go along. This is the sound of modern punk music. Get it.



DELIGHTFUL ODDBALLS WHOM I LOVE

Jacuzzi Boys: Ping Pong (Mag Mag Records)

Tim Presley: The Wink (Drag City Records)

Puberty: S/T (Born Bad Records)

I played these three albums the most this year, which is not a huge surprise to anyone who keeps track of my favorites, which I believe is only me, but you never know. Each artist raised their personal bar here, and that's exciting for me, and maybe them, and maybe you reading this. I'd be personally very pleased if you purchased these for yourself, not me, because I already own them, and not them because they are busy. Thank you.

My Miami sweethearts Jacuzzi Boys make records that make me smile. I always feel better after listening to them. I think "Ping Pong" is their best album yet, with shining, strong, split-stereo production, tight performances, and great songs throughout. My dream is for them to have their own animated Saturday morning cartoon show. I AM NOT KIDDING.



Tim Presley, like his friend Ty Segall, also makes my list every time he puts out a record because I love every record he makes. Stepping out from the White Fence moniker, plain ol' Mr. Tim on "The Wink" also steps away from his own multi-layered home production and into the studio with producer Cate Le Bon. Le Bon's instincts prove perfect, as we have superb, clean sound and crystal clear vocals, while the arrangements and instrumentation remain familiarly weird and a bit more sparse, to good effect. This is the kind of record that bears repeated listening, for you will hear it differently each time, sonic details popping here and there, lyrics veering from opaque and obscure to stunningly direct.

Why does Presley sing with a muted British accent? The world may never know.



If you think Puberty sounds a lot, I mean A LOT, like my favorite post-punk performers, The Intelligence, OH GUESS WHAT? That's because Puberty is a Lars Finberg project, and the band is loaded with current and former members of The Intelligence! Aren't you glad to know this? It pains my little heart that more people haven't heard this record, because it is fantastic. Born out of "Trainwreck," a crazy monthly performance event at The Orient Express karaoke in Seattle, it took years to reunite the Puberty band to make this album, and another year before it was released. Finberg doubles his vocal lines with Susanna Welbourne (better-known internationally as burlesque star Kitten LaRue), wrote all the songs, but sits out on playing. Oh, but these songs are SO LARS. Grim, funny, spooky, strange, and charming, it may not be for everybody, but I will never stop insisting that it SHOULD BE. Make 2017 Semi-Tolerable Again and buy this album.

I made this video a couple nights ago and am proud of several edit points. Check out the wicked guitar work on this by Dave Hernandez!



THE FUTURE IS FEMALE

Tacocat: Lost Time (Hardly Art)

It's a genuine thrill to see Tacocat gain popularity this year with the excellent "Lost Time," although that means more time on the road away from Seattle. We miss them when they are gone, because the three women and one man who make up Tacocat bring so much to our town. They are musicians, artists, DJs, writers, hosts of fun creative events, and light up the town with ever-changing hair and clothes and makeup. Most importantly, they are advocates for those who are in need -- our homeless population, PoC, the LGTBQ community, reproductive rights organizations, and more.

You can hear this advocacy on "Lost Time" but it never comes across as preachy or trite. Instead, there is a sly humor and head-bopping pop punk that delivers messages with hilarious accuracy and an awful lot of fun.

Because this was exactly what was needed in 2016, and brought me smiles and strength, "Lost Time" is my album of the year.

 

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POEM & PHOTOS: "DOUBLE EXPOSURE" BY AJ DENT

(I am honored today to be able to feature the beautiful creative work of AJ Dent, a writer/photographer who hails from the Upper Midwest, as I do, and ended up in Seattle, like I did. Please to enjoy. - Marianne)

Since June of this year, I have been living in my homeland of north central Minnesota. These past three months mark the longest I have stayed here in over six years, having fallen face-first in love with Seattle. Though I knew I’d miss the Emerald City, and enjoy reconnecting with nature here, I wasn’t ready for the gut-punch of being homesick for both places at once -- especially while trying to decide if I should move somewhere new yet again this fall. This poem is dedicated to both my raft of ducks out in Seattle right now, and to the Land of Lakes explorers who have taken me under their wing this summer. -- AJ

Double Exposure

This summer demanded to meet me

in the population: 3,000 town

where I was born. For tea. To tell me

to grind myself with dirty wheels,

dirty windshields, dirty boots and

dirty fingernails again

for four grass-stained months.

This season was my first love;

I couldn't resist the rendezvous.

​​

But Minnesota moves as if a garter snake,

​eyes spiraling like Northern Lights.

Sill Lake hypnotizes my lens.

Whitetails are snort-wheezing

You can never leave again.

Red pines replace skyscrapers and muskies

make the newspaper. Lady’s slippers whisper

What is this supposed West Coast matter

to which you must tend? I admit it dims

as fireflies spin and meteor streaks grin.

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SORRY NOT SORRY: YES, I WILL JUDGE YOU IF YOU VOTE FOR DONALD TRUMP

Like a good citizen, I dutifully watched every prime-time minute of both the Republican and Democratic National Conventions these past two weeks, and many more hours of pre-prime and various network commentary. I take my role as a voter seriously, and this year, I'm not just serious: I'm dead serious. So are other folks. The glut of horrified, hand-wringing articles from every form and faction of media have battered us all like word tornadoes. Election years are doozies, we know, and emotions run high. But the stakes have never been this high. I've seen 50+ years of American politics, friends (and not friends), and Houston (and everywhere else), we have a problem.

You know what it is. Oh, you know, even if you are willing to put every shred of your own humanity aside to ignore it. But you know the problem, and you might even know the gravity of it.

You know what a truly bad person is. You know what they do and don't do. You know from your own life experience, you know from the values you got from your parents or religious upbringing or just the good old "Golden Rule." You know the kind of person who seems to have no limit to the amount of cruelty they dish out, and you do everything you can to make sure this person isn't your boss, or your "friend," or your spouse. When you've encountered a truly bad person, you speak in hushed tones as to not draw attention to yourself and his or her ire, or you are pushed to fury into a fight you never win, because you have a filter, a stopping point. You know better than to engage someone like that, right?

But maybe not. What has it cost you, when you've put your trust in a sociopath? Did you lose your job? Get a divorce? Go to jail? Or did it just embitter you? Did you follow the rules and get shafted anyway? Did you believe, and get that belief shredded into dust? Did you get left behind while a lot of people you think didn't deserve anything made some gains?

And then...did you do it again? Because we are taught to follow leaders, taught to honor "strength," did you go right ahead and trust a truly bad person again, even though all your experience and your gut told you not to? Did you allow fear to make your choices for you again?

None of us are perfect. We all have, at times, put our faith into people who have betrayed us. The best we can do is learn from that and decide how to proceed differently in the future. The worst we can do is repeat the same mistakes with where we put our lot...or allow the bitterness, cruelty, fear, and ignorance to spread inside us like a cancer, until the day comes when we ourselves are truly bad people.

We face a presidential election which has confounded most of the world. WHY, they say, HOW? We know why and how; it was a trainwreck some saw coming down the track decades ago. We aren't getting the principled elder with an unparalleled track record of political integrity. Nope. We are getting a career politician with some excellent qualities and some not-so-great, and...a truly bad person. This should be, for anyone who is clear-headed, adult, informed, and reasonable, a slam-dunk choice in November.

But it is not, pollsters tell us. And I swear, if you vote for goddamned Donald Trump, I will judge you. I will judge you all the rest of your days, even if we grew up together, are family, or have other redeeming qualities as a human being. I will judge you for saddling me and my family with the single worst presidential candidate our country has ever seen, on every single objective measure anyone could imagine, and a danger to our nation and our world's safety and survival.

I will absolutely go right ahead and assume you are A-OK with blatant bigotry and racism, hate speech, misogyny, disrespect of grieving military families, the disabled, the poor, and anyone who dares stand up to bad people. I'll know you feel good about short-tempered billionaires who cannot control their mouths nor actions no matter what, even claiming he could shoot someone dead and his dedicated followers would still love him. I'll expect that you are fine with thinking a businessman who has shafted countless people and provoked large, ugly lawsuits is the kind of man you like to represent you. I'll know you are totally cool with someone lying more far more than any candidate in United States history has, right to your face, over and over, because he knows all he has to do is justify the worst feelings inside you that you just can't cope with.

And if you even whisper the words, "Bengazi" or "emails" to me, I will send you off to read Politifact and come back with the stench of decades of Fox News washed off you. There is only one competent human being that can run the country in this election. One. Any third-party candidate does NOTHING but pull votes away from the one competent candidate who can win and strengthens the truly bad person's chances of winning. Please re-read that sentence until you understand that it is a fact in the numbers game. The electoral college doesn't give a rat's ass about your principled alt vote, so you might as well start wearing your "Make America Great Again" hat, Greens and Independents and Libertarians. That will be your reality, so get cozy with it now, and all that it means.

My guy didn't get his chance. So now I will vote for Clinton. Judge me all day long for supporting her faults, for following Bernie Sanders lead, for having the audacity to question your character for not doing the same. I love my country, and it won't survive a Trump presidency. I would be a lousy citizen, a lousy mother, and a lousy person if I didn't do everything I could to stop a nightmare from happening. All I have is my vote, and yes, the ability to write another horrified, hand-wringing article.

The things that threaten world stability the most aren't ISIS and whatever brown-skinned people you think are ruining everything. It's income inequality, educational inequality, and the horror of climate change. Don't take my word for it; it's in every accounting of human history there is, from every credible scientist and scholar, people who have dedicated their lives to study and critical analysis. Look at the big picture. If you want a fully radicalized world, drowning in salt water, vote Trump.

And yes, I know you don't care. We all know. It's damn sure Trump knows. Do what you're going to do. Let your god sort you out.

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POEM & PHOTOGRAPHS: "MINNESOTA MOURNS" BY AJ DENT

(I am proud to have hosted work by my friend and colleague AJ Dent in the past, and am very excited to continue to feature her writing and photographs here on Popthomology as she continues her travels. Thank you, AJ. -- Marianne)

From June through September of this year, I am staying in my homeland of north central Minnesota. While I’ve been writing a bit about my current adventures over on AtelierAJ.org and DigitalAJ, the recent racism-fueled murders of black people across the country has taken precedence. Since the death of Philando Castile, Minnesota has experienced significant storms almost every single day, alongside protests all across the state. This poem, which touches on the tragedy of his death, is dedicated to him, all others wrongfully killed by police, and the Black Lives Matter movement.

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POPTHOMOLOGY IS 8, EVERYONE CALL CNN!

In the blogosphere -- a term I hate, by the way, but am too lazy to not use -- eight years is a lifetime. Blogs are rather like diaries, even if the topic has nothing to do with anything personal. People start a diary or personal journal with the best of intentions of content and maintenance, and usually run out of steam pretty quickly, because life is busy and you start forgetting to make time to update and then you forget many more times, and then you are all, "eh, whatever," and you are done. Your heartfelt blog about "My Cat And Everything She Does That Is Adorable" or "Rants About Things I Get Mad About But That No One Else Cares About" starts with a bang, and ends up abandoned, mostly because you are human and things are happening elsewhere.

I began Popthomology on February 28, 2008 mainly on something of a dare, and a need to have a place to focus my creative and emotional energy. I didn't expect much from it, because I didn't have any plans or ambitions for it. It was just a place in the universe that was mine, made virtually real by purchasing the domain name of "Diarrhea Island" (Pop's original name, ha) and just heading forth into my brain and seeing what came out. For many years I posted every day -- really, seriously, every single day -- and the thing that came back to me, the thing I didn't recognize whatsoever that I needed, was connection. Whether  I was being silly or serious, a diverse group of people that kept coming back to read a few times or thousands of times started reaching out to me every so often, which was a shock to me. To hear that someone enjoyed what you wrote, thought about something in a different way, got mad about your sense of humor, loved your photography, delighted to a piece of child art or a screaming goat video...I just never thought anything like that would happen, but it did. I have a large group of beloved friends now that I never would have had if I hadn't started the blog, and kept at it. This is still so surprising to me, and my gratitude is profound.

My pace has slowed considerably here over the past 14 months. Personal challenges and losses have forced the changes, and I have to roll with them and accept that I can't and shouldn't keep up a sprinter's pace carrying what is right now a heavy load. But I'm not stopping, just bringing you content I think you will enjoy in more of a stroll, as it were. Your patience and continued attention is a marvel, and I thank you. Thank you for everything, every opportunity that's come my way, every time you've taken the time to tell me HEY IT COOL, every time you've told me about spelling mistakes, every time you let me know that this tiny, tiny place in the big, big world did something to make your day a little better.

We will end this reflective essay with a very short video starring one Loretta Jenkins, who possibly has inflated her breasts with beer. 

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SOUND & VISION: I DID A COVER OF DAVID BOWIE'S "SCARY MONSTERS (AND SUPER CREEPS), YUP

Wow, OK, the start to 2016 has been rough for us earth folk, right? Too many irreplaceable losses, too many threats of irreplaceable losses, grief casting deep shadows over what should be a time of renewal and hopefulness. The world will get its mojo back -- it always does. For us sensitive critters, we just have to find our own ways to cope such that we make things better, and not worse.

Years ago, I came across a live acoustic version of David Bowie's "Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)," from his 1980 album of the same name, that I absolutely adored. It was simple as could be, the song stripped down to two D-tuned acoustic guitars and Bowie's vocals and a harmony. He jokingly told the story of "being in penitentiary with Johnny Cash back in the late '50s" and how, he said, he and Johnny came up with the song there. Funny, and a delightful example of Bowie's fine sense of humor. Taking his own fairly avant-garde rock song and turning it into a Sun Records-style rockabilly jaunt underlines something I love to repeat: a great song can be done in infinite ways and musical genres and still will be a great song.

I had immediately upon hearing it wanted to have a go at recording this version myself, and for some reason put it off long enough that I forgot about it. It landed in the ever-increasing mountain of "Things I'd Like To Do Someday," along with traveling to Europe, living in New York City, joining a bowling league, and drinking adequate amounts of water. With David Bowie's passing and all the waves of tributes and songs and articles, I came across the track again, and smiled. This would be a good time to finish what I started, I thought: a tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny little throw of something creative to the cosmos can't hurt.

So I did it, very minimally, yes, but I'm glad to kick one pebble off Someday Mountain and am glad to share it with you. I did a silly video to go along with it because who doesn't want to see SMPTE code leader girls and '70s space dinosaurs?

If you like, you can very much for free download the track HERE. Thank you very much for listening, and thank you David Bowie, for everything.

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DAVID BOWIE 1947-2016

1969: It is summer, July to be exact, that magical season of sweet green grass, warm sunshine, endless hours of play, no school. Yet I am inside, crouched next to our ashy beige TV console, tuning in the solitary rock station on the FM band that I could receive in my rural area. My cheek is so close to the speaker that I feel the scratch of the tweedy fabric. The song that I am listening to is "Space Oddity," by David Bowie. The lines of reality blur in my mind between the story in the lyrics and the ubiquitous, surreal TV coverage of the Apollo 11 moon landing -- "Can you hear me Major Tom, can you hear me Major Tom, can you hear me Major Tom?" -- and wait with a strange and awful nervousness to hear of his rescue and reunion with his wife, whom he loves very much. I know it's just a song...or is it? I'm compelled to listen to it each time I hear it played, which was only a handful of times that I recall, hoping there was something, anything Major Tom could do to return to Earth. I am seven years old.

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