Earth to Major Tom

Earth to Major Tom

For the estate agents Brixton is a fast improving area.That is the immigrant population are being squeezed by  young professionals who like the big houses and great transport connection.  But there are still a lot of non whites. Typically the  street market now sells the  cheapest yams   and the most expensive organic pizzas in London.

Leaving the station one is  immediately given a Jesus Saves brochure by a very ardent middle aged black woman. Of which there are  still many , some of whom rather disconcertingly talk to themselves. Do not let them catch your eye, it could be taken as a sign.

A very real feature of Brixton today is the David Bowie shrine. Opposite the station a whole wall has been graced with a very good Bowie portrait. It was drawn two months ago. In front f which are hundreds of rotting bouquets of flowers and emotion soaked  greeting cards.. All aound the  mural and all along the adjoining shop window fans have written messages. They die, we weep, many honour the  emotion they invested with the pilgrimage.. Two million people signed the books of condolences for Princess Diana, where are those books today.

Once a journalist. I ask a couple of people who are  standing by the shrine. Emma is not very attractive but then she is not on a date. I remember that most football fans are also not the best looking,is that a connecion.. She has come down from York especially to see this shrine. “ he meant a lot lot me and I wanted to be part of what was going on, there is nothing like this in York. I cant visit his grave this is the next best thing. It gives me closure I suppose.” Closure from what, I didn’t ask. But  closure is one of the words  that get  me  reaching for my Viking helmet and leaping onto my Mongul pony.

Two other girls, more attractive. One said she lived nearby and just wanted to show her visiting friend. “He meant nothing to me I was too young but it’s a local atgtarction I thought my friend would be interested.”

Then there are the messages on the wall. “Thankyu for inspiring me,” writes Jess from  Epping. “Immortal  music, never forgotten, love will never die” scrawls Beth from Brighton. “You deserve to be in heaven, look down on us” says Paul from Cardiff. “You were the soundtrack of our lives” Sonia and Dave. “You grabbed  my heart growing up and you never left me” Pip. And there are hundreds maybe thousands of these  cris de couer. “Were you related to the man  who invented the knife” asked Hugh from Putney.


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