let’s reminisce!

I used to do this bullshit where I’d name a song, and then relate the memory I have associated with it. like, the other day, Josh sends me an email or a text message that says, ‘what’s the name of the David Bowie song that gives you chills?’ and he also called me ‘gay’, I believe.
there’s a David Bowie song that at some point has given me chills, so I sat there and thought on it for a while, because I couldn’t remember which song it was … and I was at work and looking for an excuse for distraction. I answered ‘starman’, which was probably right, but truthfully, it’s the entire album that it’s on. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. is that name right? it’s something ridiculous like that.
anyway, that album’s the shit, start to back. I listened to it on loop when I drove out to California a couple of years ago, and now I don’t know where it is.
even more specifically, I listened to it between Jerome and Congress, Arizona. I had decided to get off of the interstate to “see the countryside” on State Road 89, which took a ridiculously long time — but it was fucking cool, man. you’re quite high up when you get into Jerome, a mine town turned artist’s retreat, which is like fifteen buildings on the side of a mountain looking to the northeast and huge skies … and then from there you go through Prescott, a town large enough to draw fast food chains. and then you continue on south/southwest into nothing.
and then, just past this mailing address called Yarnell (I’m looking at a map), you come through a gap in the hills, and you’re on the side of another bare mountain and the dropoff is on your left and immediate. and when I crossed this peak, it was a Monday at sunset in the middle of nowhere. nothing on the horizon, no signs of life spare this massive, lonely, uninhabited water purification plant in the valley spread below, and everything ws red. this is because Arizona can be very red and dusty, like a Martian landscape. and ‘Five Years’ was playing.
and you could see for miles and miles, just red earth and orange sunlight and more faraway mountains to west, and I remember thinking, “Jesus. I’m far away now.”