Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to listen to David Bowie. Though my father listened to all manner of punk, goth and progressive rock, the Buddha of suburbia was too esoteric for his Catholic tastes. I distinctly recall once sitting at the coffee table when, prompted, I am certain, by some commercial or television show, my father announced in reference to the song ‘Oh! You Pretty Things’ something to the snide
August 26, 2016
