I appeal. I petition. I implore.
I say no. No I say.
I beg to differ.
The signs of these current times is encased with shockingly forked tongue biting hatred.
A strange incomprehensible dialect. Facts fictional. Wrong is all right.
A trying to split us apart agenda.
Ok, patiently, bear with me. I fast forward to last Friday night.
Two days ago I attended a Bruce Springsteen concert in Vancouver, BC.
19,000 peoples of all ages, all nationalities and working classes
gathered side by side to hear Bruce rock the gospel.
And rock the gospel he did.
Continuously for 3 hours and twenty minutes straight.
Bruce, now, seventy-five years old,
rocked the arena for three hours and twenty minutes non-stop.
In a devoted delivery to his loyal fans, he circulated his brand of love, while his fans reciprocated their mutual love right back to Bruce, and to his 50 years together now-and-still- going-strong E. Street Band. It was quite a phenomenal experience to encompass.
The output of the give and the take of physical energy exchanged between performers and audience was consistently & powerfully in tune, in sync & never ceasing.
Never an interruption, nary a weakening, and at no time nobody taking breaks,
not ever a slight pause in the pitch or intensity …
the dialog of constant caring and affection visibly produced and displayed
all night long for the entire three hours and twenty minutes performance
was unbelievable to behold.
The audience completely engaged.
All circuits firing.
Musicians giving their all.
Amps amped all the way up.
It was clearly love.
To be a part of such a large community gathering. To listen to a flawlessly performed entire evening of music that never missed a beat. The musicians and stage hands operated as a single unit. Bruce throwing his guitar across the stage only to be caught each time by his people. The soloists as strong a presence as Bruce and all given equal time besides being recognized over & over by their admiring band leader, as he called out their names, introducing them all, time & again. All 18 members of the E Street Band. A horn section, trumpets, trombones. Congos, drums, back up singers, a violin, organs, pianos, and. and.
And. A saxophonist who stopped time in its tracks.
The audience members hardly ever sat down in their seats, standing for three hours and twenty minutes straight. Up on their feet clapping cheering waving their arms in unison singing the songs in unison. The chorus crowd was as much in unison as the performers on stage. Many times Bruce was back and forthing them as the conductor of chants from one side of the auditorium to the other side in which the audience performed duets amongst other sections of the audience. The audience performing large segments of many of the songs without music backing them up.
Who was ? the listener who were ? the singers who was ? putting on the show who ? played which part of the performance.
They all did. We all did. Everyone there was a part of the performance dance.
The arena was one. There was no separate stage. The whole arena was alive as a whole.
We Being. On Fire.
At one time you better watch out you better not cry you better be good I’m telling you why was being sung by Bruce. Boxes full of Santa hats were tossed into the audience by stage hands. The crowd then became a bunch of bright red with white pompoms Santa Heads. Happily hopping up & down, they danced around in circles together.
Deck them halls peoples.
Another time, right after a searing hot explosive rock and roll blaster, Bruce turned the volume way down and sang a hush quiet low solo under a single spot light.
An accompanying solo spot lighted trumpet player blazon behind him.
Caught completely off guard and moved to tears, I relived a moment with
my trumpet playing dad in the middle of this crowded concert.
The solo was Quiet yet dramatically dynamic. The evening a well orchestrated mix
of emotions and extremes. Thus, once more, immediately followed by the electrically alive tunes of Jungle Land, Born to Run, I’m on Fire, Hungry Heart.
Yes, You do rise up hearing The Rising. One brief melancholy remembrance followed by a raucous uplifting your feet off the ground drumbeating driving force.
Harken !! Behold Y’All !! The rising.
Then, the highly charged followed by the subdued lyrics of Last Man Standing
& everything dies baby that’s a fact / but maybe everything that dies some day comes back.
Bruce speaks to the crowd, recalling his very first band. This band lasted together for a whole three years before breaking up. Bruce reminds us of the un-staying power of most musical groups. Then he states : the E. Street Band is going on 50 years together. Bruce is very outspoken about the fact that there will be no farewell tour. Not these guys … Not no way not no how.
Towards the latter half
of the concert with houselights
turned up bright on full beam,
the arena is lit up and all illuminated.
Bruce jumped down off
the stage and dosey doe-d
within the throngs
of the the crowds
of the audience.
With a mike in hand
he sang,
yet, also reached his hand
out to shake hands with
his well wishers.
The audience adored Bruce.
And he, us.
Mutual adoration going on here.
No mob.
No push no shove.
Just love.
He shook hands as all
arms reached out to him.
Bruce made a path around to the other side of the arena greeting all up front and personal. I was to view Bruce right next to us, right there, as he sashayed a bit singing and smiling.
We all Revere.
The amount of history, adhesive, glue, strong messages shared, skill, staying power, talent, and love this band emanates is quite a force to behold.
I had to laugh because they do not do encores. The whole last quarter of their set is an imminent “encore’ or last number. All the E Street Band members do a couple of all together at the same time bows to the audience toward the end of the show.
And then, after another bow, they all walked off. Bruce gave the saxophonist one last hug before the sax player excited. Followed by Bruce walking back on stage with acoustic guitar in hand standing under a solo spot light singing :
the days go on I remember you my friend I’ll be seeing you in my dreams.
One of the most beautiful moments
of the entire evening
happened twice.
Bruce and the saxophonist had walked up to each other two different times and gave each other a hug on stage during the concert. It was a hug that spoke volumes.
Stopped father time. Stopped one in your tracks. Sincere.
The saxophonist was Jake Clemons, Clarence Clemons’ nephew,
who now, has filled the shoes of his deceased uncle.
The hug they gave each other was a definite Clarence Clemons’ hug.
A Powerful Expression.
The stars were out that night.
I began this essay recalling my disbelief in the times and how unreal they see.
And seem.
The weeks leading up to this concert held harsh reality checks.
My head wrapped around a strange unreal world.
All fear based. Stuck in hate.
Splitting us up. Making stuff up. Name calling. Pointing fingers.
Fragmenting us all. Dividing us all.
The motivation solely to divide & conquer. Divisionism.
My personal experience that concert evening,
two nights ago, with the E. Street Band and their fellow bandleader proved :
this perspective all wrong.
The evening left a lasting impact upon me that proved &
demonstrated very very audibly loudly
that We, The Peoples, get along.
We all get along together.
We wish for the same good things in life.
We respect each other.
And our strength as a people lies in our coming togetherness.
All of our inner compasses point & are guided towards :
One common direction.
One common denomination.
One common goal : to love and be loved.
Connection-isms.
FOOTNOTE : a personal Clarence Clemons perspective :
One night we were playing in Asbury Park. I’d heard The Bruce Springsteen Band was nearby at a club called The Student Prince and on a break between sets I walked over there. On-stage, Bruce used to tell different versions of this story but I’m a Baptist, remember, so this is the truth. A rainy, windy night it was, and when I opened the door the whole thing flew off its hinges and blew away down the street. The band were on-stage, but staring at me framed in the doorway. And maybe that did make Bruce a little nervous because I just said, “I want to play with your band,” and he said, “Sure, you do anything you want.” The first song we did was “Spirit in the Night.” Bruce and I looked at each other and didn’t say anything, we just knew. We knew we were the missing links in each other’s lives. He was what I ‘d been searching for. In one way he was just a scrawny little kid. But he was a visionary. He wanted to follow his dream. So from then on I was a part of history.
FOOTNOTE, too : When Obama met Bruce Springsteen,
he said to him, “I may be the President.
But you are The Boss."