I'll list those 10 reasons. And they will convince you. But first, I have to tell you a story.
Battery Park, May 10, 2002. The burned-out hole in the ground where the World Trade Center once stood is close by, the hole in the skyline still present no matter where you turn.
Like most people, I knew of David Bowie primarily from his dozen or so megahits, like "Space Oddity," "Rebel, Rebel," "Changes," "Panic in Detroit," "Young Americans," "China Girl" and others, and his smattering of iconic albums, including the 1970s' The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and the 1980s' Let's Dance. I owned both of those albums but I don't think I owned any other -- even though he had put out over 20 albums of original material by then.So there I am, walking in Battery Park on my lunch hour. I hear some sloppy echoes of live music playing. The bandshell was far away and facing the other direction. "Sounds like some crappy David Bowie cover band," I muttered to my co-worker. Curious, we trekked around the park, to the other side of the band shell -- and it was David Bowie himself. He and his band were just finishing up a soundcheck; we didn't get to hear any more. But it was him. In the flesh. The concert was that very evening, a free showcase of many stars who were coming together in a show of support for Lower Manhattan following the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Spearheaded by actor Robert DeNiro, the concert was also the launch of what would become the Tribeca Film Festival organization. My fiancee (now my wife), a Bowie fan from way back, was in New Jersey driving home when I texted her: David Bowie. Free concert in Battery Park. Tonight. At first, she was less than enthused. Too tired. Long day. Already passed the Holland Tunnel exit. Going home and going to bed. About a half-hour later, I get a phone call: "I can't pass this up," she said. "I'm turning around. Where can I meet you?"