Okay, so, here's the scenario (well, the scenario beyond what my readers already know, which is that I am devoted to Springsteen)...
I was presented with a ticket this week to see Springsteen at the Oakland Oracle Arena (the Boss calls it "Hooters Arena," making fun of the commercialism of performance and sports venues) as an early birthday present. Yeah, I was a little excited...ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IT'S F***-ING SPRINGSTEEN! (Sound of 30-something teenager screaming, inserted here, heheh.) When I got there my seat was in the third from the LAST row in the building, a pretty high climb and the binocular level. I didn't bring any, but no matter--they have monitors and at least I get some good music and to be in the same building with him for a bit.
About 10 minutes before the concert begins a miracle happens. I can think of no other word for it. P used to call the little miracles a "Thank you for the parking space," but this is more on the lines of "Thanks for the new car." A woman who later introduced herself to me as Suzanne climbed ALL THE WAY UP THAT SERIES OF STAIRS to ask if any of us were there alone and, if so, we wanted a FLOOR spot for FREE.
Say what?!?
I was surrounded by families or couples. I raised my hand...(see, Robin, this alone thing is working better all the time! :) and followed Suzanne (BIG shout-out to Suzanne, everyone, I mean it) down the stairs, down the elevator, down to the FLOOR, where I got a wristband and thanked Suzanne profusely before she went back to the pit where her husband was. There was no more room in the pit, so I stood behind it with others, and met a guy from San Diego who worships Springsteen enough to have seen him 78 times. We swapped memories of strength and happiness that Springsteen's music gave us, swapped our favorites, and he gave me his memories of other concerts that he and his wife had attended. He told me stories of the fires in SoCal and we enjoyed the music together when it began.
I'm not going to gush on a lengthy writing of a Springsteen concert...I will say this. His concerts are short (about 2 and a half hours), and he takes maybe 4 inhales of oxygen the whole time. His songs often run one to another, and this one was a blend of all E Street, from Thunder Road and Born To Run days to the new album. (He literally broke my heart with "The Rising.") Springsteen doesn't use any special effects, just GREAT lighting.
The concert was like...the best sermon of my life...what I was hoping making love would feel like...flying...rush of life in and out of a room...the best meal ever enjoyed...a New Mexico sunset...spring rain...lost pain...
I believe in magic. Miracles have a pretty strong chance, too.
5 comments:
And it's only the beginning of what your prefrontal cortex can do for you. (laughing)
video footnote
I KNOW...the sky opened up and the periferial (sp?) vision returned...
It's stunning, strange, and I'm almost afraid to keep my eyes open...
:)
[rises from quicksand]
Peripheral to your post -- I saw him the last time he was here. After hearing about his four-hour jamfests when I was just a pup, I felt a little bit cheated by a 2 1/2-hour concert.
But then, I've paid much more money for much shorter concerts, so I can't complain.
Since I had been on my feet all day and was steeping like a teabag in a thick fog of pot, I was grateful it was only two and a half hours...and the experience was so intense I probably would have been numb by hour three...
As to the expense, I had paid for a nosebleed seat and ended up on the floor at no extra charge. Can't say that "cheated" ever crossed my mind...a glass half full to overflowing might have, though, in a word of "blessed"...
I buy that. Heck, I'm older too -- I seriously doubt I could survive four hours either.
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