Showing posts with label Waitin on a Sunny Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Waitin on a Sunny Day. Show all posts

Sunday, December 14, 2008

My Love For The Boss



So I remember a smoke filled night several years ago at the original Swaggard house, when for some reason a debate broke out about the merits of Bruce Springsteen. Someone, whose name I can't remember, was down on the Boss and I remember Seger and several others looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. Well shortly after then Bruce released the 25th anniversary edition of Born to Run. I remember Seger picking it up and for weeks at work going on and on about how great it was. My virgin ears had never heard it, but I knew there was a road trip planned for the hills of Maryland, so I figured that'd be a good time to experience it. As we hit the highway Seger hit play and I heard what sounded like the opening score of a great American movie. The piano twinkling with the harmonica rising as I imagined the camera sweeping around in wide screen capturing this picture that Bruce was describing in intimate detail. And from that day forward I've been hooked and my love for Bruce has progressed.

A month later I found an old vinyl copy of Born to Run at an antique store in North Carolina. And that record would go on to soundtrack the next year of my life. There were cold winter nights where I made love while that record played. And then after a subsequent break up there were nights where I'd drink High Life while listening to "Backstreets" over and over. When the break up started to heal there were a many a nights where I'd drink Carlos Rossi while burning up the pitch on FIFA as Clarence's sax on "Jungleland" filled up my apartment. It was a record that could bring on feelings of love, sadness, friendship, and happiness all in the same moment.

After my love affair with Born to Run I moved to Born In The USA, The River, Greetings From Asbury Park, ect. On Saturday nights I'd stay up counting lines with Darkness On The Edge Of Town and wake up on Sunday mornings to The Seger Sessions and a cup of coffee. I once even gave my boss a copy of The Boss's greatest hits for Boss's day (he didn't seem to get it). And then when coming to North Carolina I got the pleasure of seeing Mr Obama twice as he strolled out to "The Rising" with 20,000+ singing "Na na nana nana na na" in unison.

He's scored so much of my life over the last few years. Early mornings and late nights. Love and lust. Heartaches and heartbreaks. Butterflies and long goodbyes. The forming of friendships and the unfortunate distance that happens as life rolls on and some move north and some move south. And for every circumstance that comes about Bruce always seems to have some sort of plain spoken advice laden within his songs.

So I guess this is my open love letter to the Boss. One he'll surely never read and one that I'm not sure why I'm writing. But it just seems like sometimes in life it never hurts to say thank you, even if the person whom the thanks is intended for never hears it.