Off the bus, walking briskly on the sidewalk, finding that my Gate K is on the far side of the stadium.  As I circled Pierre Mauroy, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band started.  It was one of my favourite songs – “No Surrender”.  I smiled as familiar words poured out of the arena.  I was in the presence of Springsteen … I just couldn’t see him.

Finally to K.  The security check was fast, probably because nearly everybody was already in their seats.

My goal was Section 23.  Many steps upwards and I was there.  Row 60 … more up.  Seat 45.  Bruce was in the middle of a song so I sat in the aisle till he was done.

Then I looked to my left and tried to communicate to the fellow in French.  “Quelle place êtes-vous?” didn’t get the job done.  I sat back down as the next song began.  When it was over, I tried again, and managed to understand “Seat 56”.

(Repeat the sitting and standing for the next song)

I looked to my right – another gentleman.  He spoke English!  “Seat 55.”  So at least I knew my direction.

One more time: sit … then stand.  “Pardon.  Excusez-moi” as person after person let me pass.  And then …

Seat 45

Home at 19:55

***

I sat and stood and sang enthralled for over two hours.  “The River”, “Badlands”, “Dancing in the Dark” … and one huge etcetera.

Bruce was tiny but the big screens showed me his sweat.  How can somebody so old throw himself around so much, sing so much, do guitar solos so much?  Thank you Bruce.  And Nils, Steve, Max, Roy, Jake, Garry, Soozie and all you other guys.

Here’s a photo of the crowd waving our arms in unison for some anthem (that I forget) near the end of the show.  Magnifique!

And then there was getting home to my Airbnb.  It took two hours.  That’s all right.  The previous two hours were stunning.

I smiled all night as I slept