My 5 Minutes of Fame with David Bowie

"Do you want to interview David Bowie?"

That was my producer at WJAR TV asking the question I could not refuse. 

It was 1991. Bowie's new venture -- Tin Machine, a back to basics no frills effort -- was playing the Campus Club in Providence, Rhode Island. Bowie was granting interviews to mere mortals.

And I was one of them.

The PR guy was hardcore. You get five questions. Five. Don't mention Ziggy. Stick to Tin Machine. And for crying out loud, don't even THINK of asking about Iman.

I sat for hours waiting for my five minutes.

Finally, I was ushered to a round table.

Bowie sipped out of a mug, all smiles. His bulldog PR guy held out five digits.

Looking back on it, I don't remember much of what Bowie said to me.

I was lost. The bone structure, the cat eyes, the aura. 
Four fingers.

He was talking and acting like a regular guy. 
Three fingers.

Right, Ana, a regular guy who creates incredible music and is married to IMAN. 
Two fingers. 
You blast this guy's music in your car and dance to it at home.

One finger. 

I had stashed a white sweatshirt and a black marker.

"Will you sign this?" My last question.

Bowie grinned, signed and grabbed the paw.

"Let her have a few more," he said. 

I wore the sweatshirt today.