David Bowie, Quiet Hands, and Making Room at the Cool Kid’s Table

So, I was going to write about how I hate the term, “quiet hands,” but instead I’m going to write about David Bowie. Oh, I will get to the quiet hands thing in a bit, but first… Bowie. As a child, there were some, “unflappable,” truths. (Unflappable will be funny later, trust me.) Anyway, some of these truths…

Finger in ear = ok.

Finger in nose= No one will sit with you on the bus.

Pink is for girls, because enough people say it is. Pink is my favorite color, due to this truth.

Boys like cheerleaders, and you like boys. You are going to need pom poms.

Baseball players can adjust their junk on national TV, but if I get a wedgie, I have to walk around with it all day. It isn’t fair, but that’s the way it is.

I could go on, but you get the idea. At some point in your own childhood, some of your truths get shattered. Here is one example from yours truly:

I was visiting a friend from down the street. I look outside and it is dark. As every child of the 80’s knows, dark means it is time to go home. I walked down the hall and heard some haunting music coming from my friend’s older brother’s room.

“You’re face to face with the man who sold the world…”

Out steps the brother into the hallway. Pale as a China doll, flawless liquid liner, every strand of jet black hair chased with Aqua Net. And just like that, Karate Kid was out, David Bowie was in and I welcomed puberty. In that very moment, I handed pink over to Crockett from Miami Vice and it evaporated in the heat.

In all honesty, this brother was not all that attractive. He was too thin and in desperate need of an orthodontist. So, really, he had Bowie nailed. Artists like Bowie allowed some of us to unzip our awkward bodies, sprinkle them with stardust, and put them back on proudly.

What does all of this have to do with quiet hands? Well, for anyone who doesn’t know, some spectrum kiddos flap as a stim. Occasionally you will come across a therapist who will discourage this kiddo from flapping and try to replace the behavior with something more socially acceptable, like squeezing their hands together. Apparently, Squeezing= ok. Flapping= no one will sit with you on the bus. Enough people decided this to make it so. To anyone encouraging quiet hands, I suggest a quiet mouth.

Today I can simply go to my Facebook feed and see all of the tributes to someone who started out as a boy in a dress and holding a microphone, so that means that the rules can be changed all over again to fit even more kids at the cool table.

Not everyone is going to fit in a box. Sometimes when you tell a boy to wear a suit on stage, you should watch out, because it just might be a space suit. And sometimes, flapping has a purpose. Maybe my boy is just spreading stardust. There is no stopping stardust.
“The stars look very different today.”– David Bowie 1947-2016

  1. 1st a couple quick disclaimers so that my use of 2 or 3 terms will be LESS likely to confuse.
    (private aside to SuperMom: i know you are utterly immune to confusion and/or knee jerking. the following is meant for those reading these comments)
    A) my comments are meant to amuse (me for sure, possibly the author)
    B) the comments & the opinions & the questionable sense of humor behind them are MINE. if you are inclined to reply to my comments in a derogatory manner please e-mail pseudonym@hellafakeaddess.duh instead of flaming out here
    C) FULL DISCLOSURE: the author & I know each other in reality.
    so, about those comments of mine…

    1) fingers in both ears while chanting “LA-LA-LA still can’t hear you” = less than o.k.& w/ overuse may lead to complications such as narrow world view & Cranial Rectitus.

    2) social acceptability depends on environmental conditions. for example, nose picking aint no thing at burningman. playacrete boogers ARE a thing.

    3) also playa related… pink is the new black… GATE will confirm.

    4) on this i am unqualified to comment, though it may worth me researching in the field.

    5) possible course of action: with a raised voice publicly ask if anyone present would be bothered if another consenting female could adjust your undies for you. i foresee a favorable response 99 times out of 10 (not a typo, just bad statistics)

    6) being a bit ***koff-Generation-koff*** older than the author, this paragraphs personal movie had a slightly different cast, but only 1 relatively plot change… insert adolescence for puberty.
    the cast:
    Drew Barrymore (body of work includes My Puberty) = Don Johnson (body of work should exclude Body of Work… still, best porn name evah)

    Siouxsie Sioux = The Thin White Duke

    Citroen Driving Cellist Then, Masters Degree Chemist Now = Friends Brother Sans-Braces

    only other change of note, i was the body by dungeons & dragons poster model, not Herr Sans-Braces as above

    7) i flap in public as well (1 handed though) due to a) getting my own cigarette smoke in my eye, or
    b)to provide visual accompaniment when using the phrase “i’m all verklempt”. solution: teach young padawan a) Yiddish b) to smoke. problem solved!

    ***EDIT*** missed 1… call it
    2b) purposely picked empty seats on the bus, the nose was accidental… no, really!

  2. Thank you for saying more than I ever could. We “met” Bowie at very different times in his career and yet, he spoke what we needed to hear. For me, it was “Love You Till Tuesday”. I was living in a children’s home and feeling just that left of center. Then I heard that song, and still remember what I was doing and where I was. When I found the album in a bargain bin, I took it home and played it nearly to death. Every song a movie…

    And you tell it all so much better, still.

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