Day 65: Ziggy and Elvis

Happy Birthday, David Bowie*.  It is quite something to have made it to sixty-five, considering you went through a period where you lived off milk, red peppers and cocaine, and you kept your urine, and hair/nail clippings in a fridge, to be kept safe from wizards (specifically the 'warlock' Jimmy Page).

It is no surprise that you were a Thin White Duke.  You were never going to get chubby on that regime. 

As opposed to Elvis**, the Fat White Duke (Happy Birthday to you too).  Peanut butter and banana fried sandwiches.  Syrup, ice-cream, waffles.  You knew what a fridge was really for. 

Everything in excess - sideburns, rhinestones and rings. 


(I'd like to have seen the pair of you on that diet-swap programme.  The one with the smug curtain-hair  doctor.  Where they drop your week's meals into a big see-through tube, as you stand watching in your pants, shamed by your nutritional shortcomings.  (I suspect DB would have been hiding his urine carefully at this point).  This would have been the best ever episode.  I'm watching it in my head.)

I've always thought that I had a problem with moderation, but these two pixies rewrote the rule book.  So, amidst all this TEDIOUS January diet shit, my view is that as long as I'm somewhere in between Ziggy and Elvis, then all is OK.

* Thank you especially for 'Life On Mars' and 'Drive-In Saturday'.  Amongst many, many others.  And for subversion and taboo-breaking and reinvention.

** Thank you for 'In the Ghetto', 'Devil in Disguise' and 'An American Trilogy'.  For beautiful youth and white-suited casino legend. And also for subversion (Jailhouse Rock - hello) and taboo-breaking (The Pelvis).