We've got General Admission seats for tonight's Springsteen concert in San Jose. Since that won't be enough Springsteen for me, I'll be driving down to L.A. Thursday to catch him there. Alas, we only have tickets for the Thursday show, not the added Friday one. Double alas, even if I had tickets for Friday's show, I couldn't go because I'll be camping with the Girl Scouts starting Friday evening. So I'll essentially drive down beginning at about 7 a.m. Thursday and then drive back up beginning at about 6 a.m. Friday.
I know what you're thinking. "You're too freakin' old to put that much time and effort into an aging rock star."
And you know what I'm thinking, right? "BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!"
And what's more? "BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!"
Because, hello? "BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!"
I'll stop now.
No, really. I mean it. I'll stop now.
It has been more than 30 years since I've forsaken all others in my pursuit of Springsteen. And by "pursuit," I definitely don't mean in a sexual way (although that isn't to say I didn't daydream during the first decade or so). And by "others," I mean other musicians. And by "forsaken," I mean I only have eyes and ears and soul for Springsteen.
As I was nodding off to sleep last night, I was thinking about various ways the Springsteen camp could choose the people to be included in the pit -- the very lively and very crowded standing-room-only space in front of the stage. How about go with a "Let's Make a Deal" concept? People bring the craziest stuff with them in hopes that people with colored toothpicks or tiger-striped guitar picks or even pink hair picks get to be up front. Those dressed in vintage Springsteen concert shirts are chosen, but the shirts have to have been bought in the day; none of this re-released crap allowed.
Or maybe the person who is chosen to pick the starting lottery number -- typically a kid whose family gets in first along with him -- can be a clean-cut, 15-year-old boy in a JROTC shirt who is attempting for the first time to get into the pit along with his crazy-ass mother, his sane father and her BFF from college.
I can dream, yeah?