Rock & Roll Remembered

As you all know, I am a devoted, maybe even a little obsessive, fan of Bruce Springsteen. I have been since the first time I ever saw him live, in the Miami Jai Alai Fronton in September of 1975. Let me set the, you'll excuse the expression, stage.

Back in those days, artists weren't as possessive of themselves as they are now, and it was common practice to drag a camera along to a show. Especially for kids like me, art students with more than a passing knowledge of photography. We shot everything. At UM, there was an excellent Student Entertainment Committee, and we had tons of shows on campus, out on the patio overlooking the Olympic-size pool and diving area.

Some of the acts I saw and shot were Elvin Bishop, Billy Joel (Piano Man had just been released), BB King, and Jimmy Buffett. I had seen some major acts off campus, as well: Jefferson Starship, Procol Harum, the Grateful Dead, and Cat Stevens, to name a few. I was a rocker, and a shooter, and a cynical art student and nothing impressed me.

I had Greetings from Asbury Park and The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle, so when Born to Run was released, and the tour to support it was announced, I bought my ticket, loaded up the camera and went to the show with my boyfriend.

There was a problem at the gate: they weren't letting people in. Years later I found out that was because there had been so few tickets sold there was a debate about actually doing the show.

We had seats in the back, but since there were only a few hundred people there, we immediately moved to about the third row, center. I got out the camera, focused on the stage and waited.

A single blue spotlight focused on the mike stand. A raggedy, hairy guy in a denim jacket and a black watchcap stood with his back to the audience. He started to play harmonica. The song was "Thunder Road". By the time they rolled into "Spirits in the Night", I was standing on my chair arms, dancing and my camera was forgotten under my seat. Bruce took a dive into the audience during that song and was passed along hand to hand over peoples heads. He never stopped singing. I never took a shot that night.

I had never seen anything, or heard anything, like him. I had seen God in the form of rock and roll. I was a fan, from that moment on, I was a fan. As we left the show, the boyfriend asked me to stay in Miami after I graduated in December. I turned, looked at him and said (predictably, and please remember I was only 20, so excuse the awfulness of this) "Sorry, Eric, but tramps like us, baby, we were born to run."

I moved to New York City. I met The Coolest Person in the World TM. I saw more rock and roll and took thousands more photos. But I have never, ever, ever, lost my passion for rock or for Bruce. And you know what? Bruce has never, ever lost his passion for the music or his appreciation of his fans. It is a covenant that goes both ways.

I was listening to a bootleg of "Thunder Road" from the mid 70s on the ole i-pod just now, and it all came back. I don't know, I just thought I'd share.