I am a Bruce Springsteen fanatic. The half-dozen regular readers know that. Now you other three reading this know it as well. I won't waste time detailing my obsession, except to say that it doesn't go so far as me having any restraining orders issued against me. [The courts were more liberal in Jersey in the 80s.]
Since I do adore the man, I have a sense of Springsteen morality. For me, it comes with the territory. On many occassions throughout the years, I have had extra tickets to his concerts. I have never scalped them. I have only ever sold them at ticket price. Because, really, I shouldn't be making money off him.
Another example of that morality? Bootleg copies of his concerts and recordings have been available for years. Long ago, they were in record or tape form. [Gasp! I am that old.] I confess to having heard one or two that my friends had purchased or made. I never bought them. I never even accepted a free copy. Nowadays, it wouldn't occur to me to download them. Because he really deserves the money for his work. It's his work.
Want another example? Lots of inexpensive unauthorized shirts can be had. Some of them look pretty good, too. Nope, never bought 'em. Paid the high price inside the stadium or at brucespringsteen.net. Because it's his image, and he should get the money for its use.
Never took a photo of him in concert and then shared it with many. When I saw him a couple of months ago, you would not believe the number of people taking photos. Not me.*
But it's got to stop somewhere, doesn't it? Apparently not. A few nights ago, I had a dream about him. [For the record, while I'm sure I dream quite frequently, I rarely remember a dream. Maybe once a month or so. That's "rarely," right?]
In the dream, we were together in Europe. Yes, we were together. We slept in the same room. We slept in the same bed. I can even picture what I was wearing to bed. We spent three days together. And we did nothing but talk. Because he's married with children. [Yeah, yeah, me, too, but I get a free pass from my husband if I'm ever offered the opportunity to sleep with Bruce.]
It's a dream, for God's sake. Can I at least suspend my Springsteen morality to enjoy myself, um, more fully than I did in a dream? Apparently, I cannot.
When I woke up, I was amazingly disappointed in my stupid mind. So, in anticipation of dreaming about him in the future, I am going to consciously go against everything I've stood for in the past about him. I figure if I do it now, I'll get the chance to actually "do" him if the chance arrives in a future dream.
*My husband, standing in the second row center behind his wife (me!) who was front row center, snapped this shot with his cell phone.