Boy I'm giving away my age with that question. But, what the hell. Age is something I'm happy to give away. ??? So the other night, leaving the DLD party I end up sharing a cigarette and talking to these guys who, no slight intended, didn't really look like they could be affording the price tag of this three-day gig with all the stops pulled out. They've got punky t-shirts and ratty hair and dreads and well, they look cool enough, but way too young and too cool for the stylish digs we were leaving. I asked what they did and one guy says, "We're extreme mountain bikers and we're doing the alps", all California like and shit. "How'd you get in here?", I asked, and it was explained to me that their manager knows everybody and he just got them in - to P1, a club I've both hated and loved since I've been in Munich but not the kind of place I'd be hanging around if I were an extreme mountain biker. ??? "Cool", I responded. And then the other guy chirps up, "Bowie! Man! You look like David Bowie, man", I smile. "Fuckin' A he does, man - hey - do people ever tell you you look like Bowie - Man it's like freaky - No shit, we're hangin' out with David fucking Bowie", and they trip all over themselves in the conversation as I tell them that I've had thirty years of this story and yeah, it's cool and all that. "We're walkin' with David Bowie in Germany, man!" - as we paddle ourselves across the icy sidewalk outside and make for cabs. "G-night Bowie! G-night". ??? Fucked up people. Bowie was about Berlin, not Munich.