"You get older and a lot of ghosts walk along with you. Which is good." Bruce Springsteen

                                        

TEARS.  

Tears of bliss, tears of anticipation, tears of enjoyment,  tears of laughter,
 tears from the heart, tears from the soul,  
tears of rapture,  
remembrance tears, goodbye tears, 
tears of sorrow
my-cheeks-hurt-from-smiling tears. 

TEARS.

From the moment Bruce Springsteen walked on stage and said, "It's great to be back in that Rocky Mountain high," (while making jokes about our recently passed Amendment 64!), TEARS welled in my eyes, oftentimes streaming down my cheeks and even splashing into my glass of wine.  I probably shouldn't have been bawling all the way through a concert that I had been anxiously looking forward to for three months, but that's exactly what happened.  

The night started with everyone in high spirits.  Seeing Bruce with my sister Peg and my best friend Eileen was a dream come true.  Our first stop was Racine's, one of Denver's classic restaurants, where we enjoyed dinner and drinks. All three of us were feeling almost giddy. Yet  . . .

As excited I was to be seeing Mr. Springsteen again and being in the company of these two amazing women,  I also had a small sense of dread.  I had been trying not to dwell on the fact that this would be the first time Big Man wouldn't be on stage with the E Street Band.  I wondered how that would be, how empty his spot on stage would seem, and how Bruce would address his absence.  I was especially dreading hearing the song "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out," one of my absolute favorites, and I was secretly hoping that they wouldn't do that one.

I did great for the first five or six songs.  I mean, opening with Bob Seger's "Get Out of Denver" had everyone rocking from the beginning--a perfect way to open a concert at the Pepsi Center!  It was when Bruce did "Roll Call" and introduced the band, about thrity minutes into the show, when the tears  were uncontainable, no matter how many times I tried to blink them away.  After he introduced everyone, he said, "Are we missing anyone?  Are you missing anyone?" and a light shone on the empty spot where Big Man usually stands.  I am actually tearing up as I type this--it was a subtle-yet-perfect way to honor Clarence Clemons.  Bruce didn't say his name--he didn't need to--we all knew who was missing.

That led into a quiet monologue about ghosts--we all have ghosts who walk beside us.  We've all lost someone or something, but they're with us all the time.  This spiritual side of Bruce got to me as I thought about my dad, of course, but also my grandparents and other family members and friends who have passed.  I truly could feel their presence--it "was good" as Bruce said.  Bruce broke into "Spirit in the Night" appropriately, and, once again, we were all smiles as we sang along.

The thing about a Bruce Springsteen concert is that there is absolutely no down time.  The band goes from one song directly into the next.  There is no buffer time, no wait time for applause--one song turns into the next.  And so, for the next three hours, Bruce and the band played song after song.

I had to "translate" my typing the next day!
8:13 = time Bruce came on stage
11:10 = time he left the stage

You would never know The Boss is 63.  He never stopped--never sat down--never took a break.  And, Bruce doesn't stand at the mic all night and sing slow love songs--he is all over the place.  He's on stage, on a walkway leading into the crowd, on a platform in the middle of the crowd, falling into the crowd and body surfing back to the stage, jumping, sliding, dancing.  For three hours.  

I was exhausted after one!  I did, however, have enough energy to get up and dance to "Dancing in the Dark."  I can't stay seated for that one.  (see short video below--I can't believe I'm posting it, but it really was a labor of love for me to do this.  With the support of my sister and my BFF, I danced the whole song!!!)

The last song of the night, at 11:18 p.m., was indeed "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out."  I had been dreading it, true, but it was during this last song that I could finally let go.  Bruce was out in the midst of the audience again,  singing the familiar words.  When it got to "They made that change uptown and The Big Man joined the band," the music stopped, Bruce froze, and Big Man's face appeared on the Jumbotron.  The cheers from the audience were so loud I thought the floor was going to give out.  A video tribute played for maybe 5 minutes, and yes, I was blubbering.  It "was good" though--I know that Big Man will always be a part of a Bruce concert, and his spirit and music will always be with us.

Big Man's nephew, Jake Clemons, keeps the spirit alive.

The night ended with Bruce putting on a Santa hat that someone from the front threw up to him, and he rewarded us with a verse of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town."  He left the stage, leaving me feeling light hearted and so happy (my cheeks hurt from smiling so much!)  The feeling of dread and sadness was long gone, only to be replaced by all those ghosts walking with me, keeping me safe and giving me new reasons to believe.