An Epic Night with Bruce Springsteen

Wherein I remember what fun is...

Madison Square Garden. April 2, 2023.

(Dear God this man is 73 years old!)

When tickets went on sale for Bruce’s first tour since the Pandemic a few months ago, at first I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. My former best friend who I used to go to his concerts with had ghosted me, and I had tired of listening to the E-Street Radio station. I mean, I loved his new albums Letter To You and Only The Strong Survive, but I was also sick of going to concerts alone and I couldn’t think of anyone I wanted to invite, except my daughter Lucia, but she really doesn’t care for Bruce.

However, concerts at Madison Square Garden are easy for me, since I have an apartment a half mile away (11 blocks, in city speak). So I logged onto Ticketmaster on the first day of sale and tried to figure out how to buy tickets. It was a chaotic mess. But I ended up getting tickets in the second row of the floor section, behind the standing section (been there, done that) near the right aisle. I paid way too much money for them, but it was done. I stressed at least once a week about who I was going to invite, mentally weighing all the pros and cons. Lucia said no. Without hesitation.

Then I had my stroke (six weeks ago now). I decided to put my tickets on sale, but I priced them super high because if they didn’t sell and I got better enough I still might go. Week by week I got better, and suddenly, out of sympathy, Lucia sent me signals that she might be willing to go with me. I was scared to go since I was only recently back to driving and had only walked a half mile on a treadmill in rehab but we decided to risk it. I was hoping that seeing Bruce live would make her like him. I was also hoping she could make it through the whole three hour show without insisting on leaving.

We walked to the venue easily, but slowly, and found our seats. They were perfect. Except that sitting on the floor level at MSG is sitting on ice covered with plastic and it smelled like dirty underwear and stinky feet. We took a selfie. A man behind us offered to take our photo. He had flown in from Paris just for this. It was his “50th or 60th” Bruce concert (I’ve only seen him less than 20 times). He wore a crisp blue and white striped button down shirt with a grey sweater over his shoulders. Tres French.

People started filtering in. A lovely and familiar man walked in front of me. “Isn’t that Tom Morello?” I said. He looked at me and smiled. I reached out to shake his hand. He took it gently and I said “I love you.” He smiled and sat down a few seats away from us.

“That’s not Tom Morello!” said Lucia with mortification (she’s 16, it’s my job to mortify her). “That’s Keegan-Michael Key!” I started laughing. I mean, I like him too but I don’t love him in the same way. Although maybe I do love him for being so kind. Then another familiar face walked over to chat with Keegan-Michael Key. I had just seen him on an episode of my favorite TV show, Finding Your Roots. I couldn’t remember his name but we looked it up an it was Richard Kind. Another familiar looking man walked over to join the comedy convention.

“Wait..is that Hugh Jackman?!” I started laughing even more. Lucia and I had just watched the 1980’s documentary on the making of the We Are The World song (yes, we are weirdo’s, but watching Bob Dylan look like all of us introverts at a party filled with extroverts still has us laughing). She remarked that a young Bruce Springsteen looked like Hugh Jackman. “But I don’t like him, either,” she said even though she was the one who MADE me go see The Greatest Showman in 2017. Hugh took a seat three seats over from her. So the fact that he showed up here and sat so close to her was when I started to really believe there was some magic happening.

Then Jonah Hill quietly passed in front of us, not talking to anyone. I think his film Stutz is astoundingly good, and is the only reason I recognized him (I highly recommend the movie). Lucia confirmed it was him and not another mistake of mine.

Bruce took the stage. I screamed. I cried. I suddenly remembered that THIS is what is fun for me! No fucking surrender! After the first few ecstatic songs, I snuck some pictures of Lucia and Hugh Jackman, who was dancing and singing along just like the rest of us. That’s when I noticed another familiar face in the background. Paul McCartney and his wife were sitting a few rows up from us. I confess, I am not a Beatles fan, but how cool is it that my 16 year old daughter can say for the rest of her life that she saw Paul McCartney singing along at a Springsteen concert? She was not impressed. That is, until, when she was doing a panoramic photo she spotted that guy from Severance, Adam Scott. Finally, she was awestruck. She had just written an entry essay for a summer film school class about how Ben Stiller directed Severance (she got accepted, by the way). I looked back to see him when I noticed Ben Stiller and his wife (who is from my hometown) sitting next to Adam Scott. That’s when Lucia realized it was actually worth it to go to a Bruce Springsteen concert at Madison Square Garden. I realized it was worth it when he played Wrecking Ball, which was a song that got me through the hardest part of the demise of the publishing company I used to run. I had made it. Hard times had come and gone and I was finally on the other side of it.

(Lucia took this photo. She’s much better at photos than I am. See who you can spot!)

I even ran into my friend Marilyn, who I hadn’t seen in ages, well, since before I was on the other side of it. What are the chances?!

But the night was not without it’s tragic story, one that could have been a sad Bruce song. Sitting right in front of us was a nice couple who were so excited to leave their four year old in the care of a babysitter for the night. They started the night having fun, but soon the husband became very, very drunk. He was swaying on his feet and had a glazed dead look in his eyes. His wife kept trying to get him to sit down but he wouldn’t. Finally she moved away from him to another area. He still kept drinking, until he spilled his beer everywhere. She was pissed. She was worried. She was trying to still have fun. They had perfect seats for when Bruce came around right in front of them during 10th Avenue Freeze Out. But he will never remember. And she will not get any action tonight or tomorrow when he wakes up hung over. Thank God I stopped drinking 24 years ago. I hate what alcohol does to people. When the concert was finally over and they left, I overheard the security guy who sat and watched him all night lean over to another guard and say “there’s one in every crowd.”

We still had to get home. Our feet were freezing from standing on the ice. I realized it’s hard to walk down an escalator that is not moving when you are still recovering from a stroke. I had to tell my leg to “march” to lift it high enough to not get stuck on the grooves. But at least I didn’t walk into a door post like the guy in front of me. When we finally got outside it was just starting to rain. Fortunately, the only merch I had bought was a bright orange beanie, which, ironically I had asked my kids to get me for Christmas since I needed a warm hat to walk in the woods and protect me from hunters. No one did. But that’s ok because now I have an even better one. I’m sure people who saw us walking probably thought I was drunk, because I kept listing to my right side. But Lucia kept catching me and offering her arm for me to link with. There is no one I would have rather been with, even though she still doesn’t care for Bruce. She still had fun and a night she will remember for the rest of her life. As did I.

(Rainy New York City selfie by Lucia, whom I adore. We had to take our glasses off to see. )

Everyone has different ideas of what is fun. But now I remembered that fun for me is super loud music that I love, played to a large group of others who also love it. I still can’t do my signature concert dance move of jumping up and down, but I can bounce. I can sway. I can sing at the top of my lungs because I don’t care who can hear me. And I can laugh and cry tears of joy because music makes me happy.

Thank you, Bruce.