I admit I never really understood the appeal of Doobies — a dim, windowless room that's retained its old-school grit and intensely loyal clientele in the face of the late-stage gentrification of the Southwest Center City neighborhood — until I visited on Wednesday evening. The occasion was the bar's second annual Bowie memorial celebration. The faithful were gathering to sip beer, draw portraits of the Starman in chalk on a stucco exterior wall, and trade stories about the musician who is, at least at Doobies, still very much alive. As I watched 10-year-old Skylar Willenburg (there with his parents) solemnly tell Brett about a David Bowie dream he'd had recently, the draw of Doobies started to make sense.