Bruce

I am such a packrat. And usually I can find anything I look for. So I am really irritated because I have been searching for days for 1)my 1982 ticket stub for Bruce Springsteen at the L.A. Sports arena, and 2) my t-shirt from the same show, and I can't find them! I thought it would be fun to scan the 2 tickets together but alas, it's not to be.

On to Bruuuuuuuce. Last Tuesday. It took 4 hours for what should have been a 2 hour 20 minute drive. Good thing it was just me and the handy husband. The kids would have been freaking over the drive.

Big buck$ for the tickets, 20 buck$ for parking, 20 for food, 20 for a bottle of wine (thank goodness there was wine, but no glass allowed so they poured it into a big gulp cup), 40 for a T-shirt. Good thing I had twentied-up at the bank before I left.

And the Sports Arena? Kind of a poor relation in the large L.A. venue family. Built in 1959, a little run down but supposedly earthquake safe. It does have a large multi level parking structure.

Tickets said 7:30, so there was waiting, waiting. But once Bruce and the E-Street gang started playing at 8:40? The drive time, the cost, the tackiness.. It didn't matter. The Boss was back:

Men in black hoods carry out a coffin and set it on the ground. Is this Sweeney Todd?

A hand rises from the coffin, grasping a guitar. "Happy Halloween, Los Angeles!"

And they blast into Radio Nowhere, one of the best Springsteen songs ever. "This is radio nowhere. Is there anybody alive out there?" And the house lights came up and the crowd of 15,000(?) went wild. And you hear this sound like booing, but you know it's not. It's "bruuuucing." Bruuuuce, Bruuuuuce, Bruuuuuuuce.

"I just want to hear some rhythm. I want a thousand guitars. I want pounding drums. I want a million different voices speaking in tongues...I just want to hear you swoon." (And that sums up the whole show!)

Oh, my god, why did it take me 25 years to see him again?

And Patti, his wife? She's really hot and you should listen to her album too. I think she wore black thigh high boots but I couldn't really see. (Old eyes, and faraway seats.) Or maybe I am thinking of Chrissie Hynde. That's another blog.

It was a short show for Springsteen, only about 2 hours and 15 minutes. And I was too far away to throw any panties. Not that I would have, but... *

The drive back wasn't so bad, except that the only way to get on the freeway was in the wrong direction, and we were stuck in a walled off carpool lane for about 5 miles, before we could turn around. We got home around 2 a.m. and were zombies the next day.

Speaking of zombies, we're seeing Ozzy Osborne on November 30th.

*The only times I've been within panty throwing distance was at Donny Osmond and Weird Al Yankovic. And for them you just don't. That would be creepy.