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On Tuesday night at about 5:00 I left to pick up Bleacaddic and began our drive into the city. We'd be attending the May 19th date of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band's current tour. This would mark the start of one of the best nights of my life so far, though I had no idea what was coming. We talked excitedly, while the Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle played. I couldn't help but clap along to Rosalita. This would be bleach's first Bruce experience and my third.
Once at the arena we stood around, waiting for the door's to be opened anxiously. At first glance we were completely surrounded by middle aged men and women. At second, there were huddled groups of diversity interspersed through the sagging skin and graying hair: a few tortured looking kids(one in an Academy Is.. t-shirt that I wanted to steal) who had been dragged along with their parents, a couple tweens in Jonas Brother's t-shirts looking excited, though I have no idea how they got there, and me, bleachaddic, and a hot 14 year old enthusiastically air guitaring along to "Thunder Road".
Finally, we dispersed inside to find our seats. Walking around the arena we kept getting further and further behind the stage. I've never seen the man in concert before from the front. Our seats were B-32 and I was expecting a rafters, until the lady who showed us our seats just kept walking down step after step after step after step. We we're directly behind Max's drum kit and two rows from the stage. For about five minutes we simply freaked out about the seats. The amount of pwnage of our seats was directly equivalent to Shaq playing Pete Wentz in basketball. I could've spit on the stage, though that was the least of my intentions. Then, came the wait. We braved through the envious glares of mid-life crisis stricken men, and my shaking hands. My heart thrummed, foot tapped to an inaudible beat, and mouth flapped to random unexpecting people about past concert experiences.
Finally at about 8:15, 45 minutes after the start time on the tickets, the band went on stage, passing about ten feet in front of us. The crowd lunged forward to get a look at the legend, and for a second he appeared, casually and calmly, accompanied by Suzy (an apparent arm-rest-substitute for Patti, who was conspicuously M.IA.) and then disappeared. I stood frozen, dumbly starstruck and lost. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and they broke into badlands. Everyone was one their feet in the blink of an eye, fist pumping along. Bleachaddic almost looked frightened as I screamed "Badlands!" with the appropriate fist pumpage. The highlights included "Like a Rolling Stone" a pleasantly shocking Dylan cover that had everyone murmuring, "This is a great song." "What a choice?!" "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm here to see this" (or if your like me *GASP*). "She's the One" Kept everyone singing along. I didn't think it could get any better than "Born to Run". I'll say it once, I'll say it again: You haven't lived until you've heard Bruce Springsteen play this song live. Thousands of people who were previously divided became unified through one chorus chant of "Tramps like us/ Baby we were born to run". Gray haired men danced spastically in the aisles and 40 year old women let out blood curling screams as if they were teenies at a Jonas Sister concert, which, in essence, they were. No, it couldn't get any better, until Bruce turned around and played to the barrier to the B-32 seats. Straight to us, he turned. I thrust my sign with the words "Growing Up" as my request. I watched, heart in my throat, as he squinted to read the other signs that had been thrown into the air in a desperate attempt to get a split second attention from the legend. There was no movie eye-lock moment or special nod, but I felt like Courtney Cox (or Jon Stewart lol) in the Dancing in the Dark video. Next, they flew into "Thunder Road", which caused me and the guy behind me to freak out as the hottie across the aisle to begin a spastic air guitar. "Come dance with me ______ (Insert Bleachaddic's name). Omg, this is a great song. Oh-mi-God." I yelled. Again the numerous thousands of people began singing along to every God forsaken word. "The screen door slams/ Mary's dress sways/ As she dances like a vision across the porch..." Midway into the first verse, Bruce turned around once more, and this time I could barely contain my voice as I sang along to the words with all the voice I could muster out of my asthma strucken lungs. And then, he turned around again. Conducting us with his arms, to bring out those words. As many times as it's been said, I swear that man looked straight at me as I sang, "You're not a beauty, but hey you're alright." In that moment, that one split second I knew exactly what Bruce was about. He was so much more than a singer or a songwriter. Whoever the hell wrote that article with the "I've seen the future of rock 'n roll and it is Bruce Springsteen", was wrong. No, Bruce Springsteen is rock n' roll and always will be. He's something that can't be described or touched, but felt through a experiencing a concert surrounded by the music. He's about those moments so short, but so much longer in your heart. He's like a long trip, the ones that last for hours on your way to that long awaited vacation. Through the twists and turns, getting lost, all the memories, and finally arriving at your destination. There is no one in recent memory who has created this, and no one will every be able to recreate it. Of course, we'll see what the future holds....
By the end of the show my feet were on fire(mistake of the universe: wearing peep tow wedges, while dancing for three and a half hours straight), and I was half deaf due to Max's lethal bass drum that could be felt in everyone's chest. And then, it was over. Once the music stopped and they exited the stage, everyone in our section squished, squirmed, and squashed to get a once in a life time photo op as the band crossed 10 feet in front of me again. The band ran out and I waved to Suzy (being a violinist she's iconic) and Nils (btw, what is up with his name. Is it an abbreviation or a nickname or a stage name?). And then, the boss himself came out and stood right in front of us. He waved to the 14 year old air guitarist, and a few of the super fans. I couldn't help but pull out my soprano "Bruuuuuuuuce", which sounded pathetic next to the middle aged bellows. Words couldn't describe my monologue, which had become much like a heart monitor after someone's heart has stopped beating.
Beeeeeeeeeeep!
My heart was thrumming uncontrollably, as he waved to bleach and I. I smirked. No, I could never forget the smile on his face.
As much as I love my alternative rock bands(my profile looks like a Panic at the Disco shrine), nothing can compare to Tuesday night.
Please, do yourself a favor, and, before you die or the band breaks up, go see a concert of his and the band's because, if it's magic that you want, that night was truly the only time I've ever believed in it. I promise you won't regret it.

Reinvent love while I'm out! heart