David Bowie is dead. And this is not like ‘Ziggy Stardust is dead’ or ‘Aladdin Sane is dead’, this is for real and permanent and forever.

Yet when celebrities die, its different from when, like, Uncle Morty dies. You don’t know them. You don’t speak to them. You’ve never met them, other than perhaps some fleeting glimpse over a million heads at the Hammersmith Odeon. So you ‘know’ these people through their work, be they singers, artists or actors. And their work lives on. Forever. Uncle Morty had a factory making knock-off Burberry handbags, so his work lives on for a little while, generally about 3 months til the strap breaks because the leather’s not real.

Yet I was really shocked this morning when I heard about Bowie. Because although I never met him, he was part of my life. Perhaps an even bigger part than Uncle Morty because he provided the soundtrack for my youth. A big part of it. Something he shares with Ozzie Osbourne, John Lennon, David Byrne and Shawaddywaddy.

I saw Bowie in 1972 at Romford Odeon. He was Ziggy Stardust. I went in plain clothes. In disguise. But I came out as Ziggy Stardust having been truly blown away as no concert since ever blew me quite that far away.

It was almost RIP for Spurs’ FA cup aspirations yesterday, with a last minute penalty by the one and only Harry Kane saving our blushes. Was it really a penalty? Ball, hand, that’s penalty to me. No point overthinking it.

But what about Oxford United? 2nd division rubbish beating premiership (strugglers) Swansea. Me mate Welsh Judith won’t be happy, that’s for sure, but that’s the magic of the FA cup.

And its not just magic. Its survival. Clubs like Oxford will have an annual turnover less than Wayne Rooney’s wages. They dream of just simply reaching the 3rd round of the cup and they pray that they meet a ‘big team’ because then the money they receive will keep them afloat for another year. To reach the 4th round will ensure their survival for a decade. I hope they get Man United. And beat them.

Happy Monday. Gotta go to work some time, I s’pose.

A xxxx