Springsteen (Originally written April 13, 2009)

I got up, showered, got dressed, dried my hair, did my make-up, got my family around (on time for a change!), dropped Pat off at work, dropped Isaac off at school, stopped at Sonic for a "Croisonic" and a big ol' iced tea and got to work with 8 minutes to spare. I had an in-box on the precipice of an avalance, roughly 175 monthly reports to get out (that were due on Friday), 30-something service plans to proof, weekly paperwork to complete for billing and a teacher on his way to work on 3 past-due service plans. I got the sad news that one of D's individuals is on life support after being taken off one of his meds cold turkey (hoping the doctor did it for a good reason) and instead of taking a day off, which D really needed, he was on the road to go offer support to that individual's family, friends, roommates and staff. And although we were already down 2 in the office...I got sent home. For a cold.

I know this cold is contagious because Betty has it, Isaac had it, Pat is getting it, and even Sammy, our boxer, has a runny nose. It is just a cold, but it is spreading like wildfire. My last 2 colds turned in to bronchitis or worse, so although I figured my coworkers would hate me for it (but would they hate me more if they caught my cold?), I allowed myself to be sent home. Steph really wasn't giving me a choice. She put her foot down, and although it is a small foot, I didn't fight her much.

I came home and slept for 3 hours or so, with Sammy curled up against me and snoring away. The sleep is good for my cold, but my back is aching from it. Time to get up and do something for a while. Like write. About the Springsteen concert I attended last week. Because I haven't written about it yet, except in brief form over at Facebook.

Back in high school, when I was a junior or a senior, I was a member of that fine organization, the Columbia Record and Tape Club. Long before I had even heard of a CD player, I got my 15 tapes for a penny, or whatever their spiel was. Then I had to remember to send the card back every month or get charged for the selection of the month. One month, I forgot (OK, MORE than one month, I forgot...) but one month in particular, I forgot and became the proud owner of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band Live: 1975-1985. Now, I don't recall if I tore the cellophane off that boxed set immediately with eagerness to pop that first cassette into my boom box or not. But I did listen. After all, some of my aunts and uncles were big Springsteen fans and they were pretty cool, so this had to be good, too.

I had no idea.

I wore those tapes out. And once they were worn out, I put them back in the original box with the liner notes and that box is out in the garage, carefully packed away with a lot of other things I treasure. I loved that Bruce and the E Street Band had such history together and they really seemed like buddies just laid back and enjoying themselves. I loved his song-writing ability. He could sound as gravelly and constipated as he wanted to, he could WRITE a SONG. I wrote a paper about the song "Thunder Road" in my senior English class. I received an "A" and, in red ink, praise because my teacher was also a big fan. I had no idea...she didn't seem the "type" and this just made her that more cool in my eyes, and I already really admired her.

Two years after that senior year, I met a guy at a party. When he asked me what kind of music I liked, I was unable to name any recent stuff that I really listened to (it was pre-grunge...what can I say?). I did mention Springsteen and Bob Dylan. His eyes widened. He later admitted his previous girlfriend did not know who Bob Dylan was (nor could she name all 4 Beatles) -- this was a travesty for a guy who is so into music -- it is a good thing that he didn't marry that girl, as badly as she wanted him to. Six months later, I went to see Bob Dylan in concert with that guy and 19 years later, he escorted me to see Springsteen.

I was so tired on concert night. I had two straight days with three teachers trying to get monthly reports out. I would have rather gone home and gone to bed. But Springsteen! Come on! I could pull it together for that! I had been so excited when I got the tickets! Where had that excitement gone?! It returned with a vengance as the house lights dimmed and I heard that familiar voice echo to the roof of the arena "IS ANYONE ALIVE OUT THERE TONIGHT?!"

He opened the show with "Badlands," and we were all on our feet. I'll admit, like many others in the audience, I was not familiar with every song on the set list. I've been an amateur fan at best. Sometimes, yes, I wish that closed captioning was available on the Jumbo Tron; the band was loud, the crowd was loud, and in the end, it didn't matter, it was a hell of a show.
At one point, the Boss turned on some old-time religion evangelist charm that had me screamin' "PREACH IT!" as he told us that they were there "to build a house of love...and sexual healing...with music and spirit and noise." He told us we were the tools to help build that house, causing the late-teens kid behind me who put this Bruce fan to shame with his admiration, knowledge and enthusiasm that there were indeed some "tools in these seats." Like the row of Gap Ad wanna-bes who sat on the row in front of us. The girls looked clueless and annoyed and the guys wouldn't quit messing with their phones. The tickets must have been part of some coroporate comp because they all showed up late and looked bored. One guy actually PLAYED A GAME ON HIS PHONE through the last set and the encore! I wanted so badly to kick him in the back of the head. Who did he think he was?

No, I was a much bigger fan of the snarky kid behind me, because every time Bruce thanked us, he thanked Bruce right back,"Naw, man, thank YOU for being here! Thank YOU for being YOU!"

I crossed off a "bucket list" item without even planning to, as I jumped up and down and screamed out "Born to Run" at the top of my lungs with 14,999 of my new closest friends. I loved that he took requests, even "I'm Going Down" (and praised the aristry of the sign) even though he wasn't sure he could remember it. I loved how the houselights were up for the songs that really brought the house DOWN. I loved that on the edge of SIXTY, this man tirelessly puts on a show like this, working the ENTIRE stage, going out into the audience, doing knee slides and belting out "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!" I loved seeing Max on drums and The Big Man, of course, I loved the whole show. I never wanted it to end.

So now my "fanness" is renewed. "Working on a Dream" is the new ringtone on my phone and I want to make a CD from his Tulsa set list. I want to see the show again! If only we could afford it. And the icing on the cake? Bruce helped raise $26,000.00 and 800 pounds of donated food for a local food bank and donated $10,000.00 of his own money as well as items for an upcoming auction fundraiser. I wore my very expensive concert t-shirt to the grocery store Saturday and was stopped by FIVE people who wanted to know if I had been to the show and how it was. Best $100.00 dollar concert tickets I've ever spent and I'd do it all over again if I could.