The most ridiculous thing about the way I found out about David Bowie’s death was the first notice, where a notorious death hoax site published a note saying not that he had passed, but that it was a hoax that he had died. Instead, we learned within the hour that the man had fought a battle with cancer for over a year, and was gone. There’s something really intriguing about the “not a hoax” hoax of it, because it was so improbable that David Bowie had the capability — or, more importantly, our permission — to leave us.

I saw David Bowie perform twice. The first was at Reunion Arena (Dallas) on the Serious Moonlight tour. Phenomenal show. Grand.

The second was at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert at Wembley. With the surviving members of Queen on stage, he strolled out to thunderous applause. What followed was a powerhouse duet with Annie Lennox on “Under Pressure.”

For the final song of his set, he brought out Mick Ronson, who had been a Bowie sideman for many of his legendary Seventies hits. The band tears into “Heroes,” and it was a revelation. The close of the song had me, and so many watching (in person, and on TV) in tears. Bowie kneels down, and says “The Lord’s Prayer.” Simply, with no preamble. It was the genuine expression of hope for his longtime friend to find peace in the afterlife.

Ronson died of liver cancer less than two years later. And now, Bowie’s gone as well.

There isn’t a definitive David Bowie sound. The musicians around him — legends like Brian Eno, Mick Ronson, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Adrian Belew, Nile Rodgers, Trent Reznor — brought a different ingredient to the mix through whatever phase Bowie’s music would be at that moment. The unifying thing, of course was that voice, which was the silky reminder of a romance you longed to have, married with a gravelly note that informed you of the rough ride you’d be in for along the way.

In many of the eulogies written in the last week, I’ve seen so many people celebrate the ability Bowie’s art — acting, music, fashion and style — had in informing people that it was okay to be a freak. An outcast. An alien. In doing so, he was almost seen as an other-worldly traveler himself.

On that point, I’ve always disagreed. The ability to touch people’s lives in so many fashions, and inform them that they are all a part of the human experience… that, to me, is the most human thing you can possibly do. It’s the message I want to leave you with tonight. We are all outcasts. We are all freaks. Diamond Dogs. Young Americans. Queen Bitches. Scary Monsters.

The trick is, we’re all in on the joke. We get to be heroes, for one day. Longer, if we really want to.

David Bowie was that hero. And will always be.