For three hours 50,000 of us loved the man onstage. He’s 73 and frolics like a kid. He holds the hands of children and older women as he strolls the front row. He squeezes the strings with inspired guitar solos.
He is Springsteen
I missed Clarence Clemons and his soaring saxophone solos … but his nephew was brilliant. Jake stepped in after Clarence died in 2011.
I loved watching Max on drums, Garry on bass guitar, Roy on piano, Nils on lead guitar and Steve singing with Bruce. Nils’ guitar solo was the stuff of magic. It’s all such a part of my history.
I talked to the folks beside and the older couple in the row above. All true devotées.
I wanted to get up and dance to “No Surrender”, “Badlands” and “Born to Run” but it was clear that the people above were not going to stand.
So … I danced in my seat.
It used to be that I’d stand and throw everything around no matter what, thinking that to do otherwise would be suppressing myself. I still do that when I’m not blocking anyone’s view, but not last night.
I was dancing low, shivering and shaking, playing the piano parts on my thighs. My head flopped and rolled, twisted and plummeted, soared with the high notes. Yes!
At the end Bruce reappeared, on a darkened stage, with an acoustic guitar. He treated us to a sweet rendition of “I’ll See You in My Dreams”.
And then goodnight
As fans spilled down the stairs around me, an usher came up to me. He said that he really enjoyed my dancing. We smiled and talked.
Now I’m on the train to Brussels. Feeling bleary. Feeling nourished by the music. The whole enchilada.
It’s evening now and I’m exhausted
The rest of today will be tomorrow