Imagine this: There I was at Stusta, having just left Lefteris (real name Elefterios, but they never seem to use their real names, do they?) and run all the way to the U-Bahn station just to miss the last train that would offer me any chance of going home in time to grab the ticket I forgot to bring with me and get to the concert before it started.

I was going to miss David Bowie.

(Which is yet another reason to hate Munich on a Sunday. That and no groceries or evil allowed.)

How in the world did this happen? Well, I was in Lefteris’ room, enjoying his hospitality (which was very nice especially since my fav Italians left). He even cooked us dinner (well, lunch for him), some Greek meatballs and potato chips. Of course, I was so engrossed with the food I forgot the time and the rest is several degrees less than fun. Uh-huh.

Fotunately, a call home to explain my situation had my redoubtable Bavarian landlord entering my room, grabbing my ticket and driving over to Oly just in the nick of time. I owe him one. As do I many others over the long course of this past weekend. Whilst ranting about railway murders, Meera, Alex, Matthias and Lefteris have managed to prove that when you need help, all you really need to do is ask for it.

It’s that simple.

Which is why I don’t think I’m gonna be all that concerned about travelling alone for a month, regardless of all the robbers and thieves waiting in the bushes for me. I know I’m gonna need help here and there, and there will be people to help me if I ask. Life is about taking first steps and taking chances.

Back to Bowie. Power and peformance. Didn’t even have an opening act to warm up the crowds. Didn’t need one.

The whole stadium was filled with kids – quite a bit of fifty-year old ones (hard to imagine that they were of his Hunky Dory era) – and cigarette smoke. I note the latter cuz I had a sore throat that day and nothing I did the whole day, certainly not this, helped any.

I note the former cuz this was by far the most diverse concert crowd I’ve seen in my life. Where else was I gonna find a bunch of blokes who looked like me Dad’s fishing buddies, n-th generation Goths, merry homemakers, both Jesus AND Buddah freaks, dotcom millionaires, recalcitrant hippies with saggy, er, fronts, and the usual garden variety of really good-looking German girls.

And the crowd just went up in uproar when Mr. Bowie came on stage, dressed in a classy and casual suit and tie. He started the night with Life on Mars, one me fav Bowie songs. Let’s just say “Wow.”

Wow. Wow. Wow.

After that, he teased that the next song was a cowboy song, then launched into Hallo Spaceboy, which strangely enough reminded me of the third Cowboy Bebop soundtrack called “Blue”, which in turn was introduced to me by Blue Mike who did the same honours with David Bowie. See? C’mon, play connect the dots with me.

(Aw, Mike, you should have been here.)

The girl next to me got up to dance at the next song and I was gonna join her till I noticed her gyrating J.Lo. I stayed down and enjoyed the performance instead.

(You really should have been here, Mike.)

Other highlights:
I’m Afraid of Americans – one line sounded like God is an American, which was hilarious, cuz that might explain why I do not believe in God, no offence.

Sunday – which was not so much a great song as cuz he mentioned he was doing cuz it was a Sunday and at that exact monet I noticed some guy in a white Sunday suit complete with a white Sunday hat in the audience. Wearing dark glasses. While dancing. I’ve not seen a more ridiculous (and equally amusing) sight since Useless McG found cosmetic possibilites for a burnt wine cork.

Heroes – penultimate song before leaving the stage for the first time. Standing ovation. I never really saw how powerful this song could be till now.

Let’s Dance – penultimate song of the encore (which, at 6-7 songs long, was like another whole show altogether, done really well and not as an afterthought). He really knows how to make us boogie, somehow managing to make over three decades of music work for over three generations of music lovers.

Ziggy Stardust – last song and possibly the best performance of a single song I’ver had the fortune of spectating. Standing ovation again, all of us screaming our hearts out, the whole team taking a bow (he had introduced them all his band members individually over the course fo the concert, which was decent of him), then leaving us in near absolute darkness but for the word BOWIE burning into our eyes for a full minute before the lights went up again.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

I get now why Q Mag said this was one of the 50 concerts I had to see before I die. I’m glad I did (especially my impending demise has already been well fortold). Power and performance, man. He was witty, playful, classy, charming, even flamboyant at times (very flirty with his lovely bald black bass player). This is saying a lot cuz I’m not a Bowie fanatic (e.g. I could go to a Tori Amos concert and listen to her reading from the Greater Bavarian telephone book and be blissfully ecstatic).

I can only imagine how Blue would have been like. So, yeah, I am torturing him somewhat (okay, a lot) with this, but at the end of the day, I wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t cram Ziggy down my throat, so I guess this is my way of saying thanks, bud.

Be seeing you in the stars.

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DAVID BOWIE Heathen Tour 2002 • Olympiahalle, 21 Spiridon-Louis Ring 80809, München, Deutschland.

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Copyright © 2002 Kenny Mah Ying Fye.