Like most everyone who grew up in Northeast Philadelphia my summers were spent vacationing down at the Jersey Shore. All except for the summer I turned 10, because that was the summer my parents surprised my brothers and me with a trip to Disney World. Since my dad had an irrational fear of flying we were relegated to taking Amtrak. After hearing the disappointment in our voices over the fact that we wouldn’t be taking a plane to Florida, my parents managed to convince us that taking the 24-hour train would be a magical adventure, which it was. Until the air-conditioning in our filled-to-capacity car decided to stop working…at midnight…in August. Clearly, this was no way to begin a magical trip to the Magic Kingdom. By 2:00 a.m. we were so sweat-drenched that my dad made the suggestion we hightail it to the air-conditioned dining car to see if a kind-hearted waiter would take pity on us and serve our little family of 5 some ice-cream. Turns out the kind-hearted server already had his hands full. Apparently David Bowie shared the same fear of flying as my dad and often hopped a train for his gigs, replete with entourage. This happened to be at the height of his Ziggy Stardust persona days. There he sat, in our little dining car in full Ziggy regalia surrounded by his musicians and roadies, enjoying the air-conditioning and eating, you guessed it, ice-cream. They graciously shared the dining car with us as well as the ice-cream. While the world will remember David Bowie as an amazing, iconic musician/actor/artist, I will remember him as the really cool guy in the funny outfit who I ate ice-cream with in the middle-of-the-night while on my way to the Magic Kingdom. Rest in Peace David Bowie and thank-you for a truly magical memory.