Before the show, I was tewtally jacked up in antici—pation. The RLA was concerned for me on two counts. The first, he said, was that I was coming perilously close to knee-sucking behavior. The second, he said, was that I was setting myself up for disappointment if the show wasn’t all I was hoping for. Don’t worry, I said. I’m too old to rush the stage, and I refused to go into the open pit. As for the show not being as good as I hope? All the on-line chatter agrees: this tour is a throw back to the 70s and 80s when the band played four-hour sets with no intermission. The set lists are amazing. If he plays any of half a dozen songs I haven’t heard in years, I’ll be happy.

At work, one of my coworkers offered up the same advice. Don’t get your hopes up too high, the man is how old now? 58? It might not be all that. You could be in for a big let down.

And I almost was. I got to the on-call window with well over an hour to spare, and waited patiently as person and person ahead of me had problems with their tickets that took time to resolve. I got to the window, and presented my ID. There were no tickets in my name. I told them the name of The Coolest Person in the World’s Husband. No tickets. I told them the name of The Coolest Person in the World. No tickets. A line Nazi barged up from several people behind me in line to yell at and berate the window worker, sneering that it was an 8 dollar an hour job and she was incapable of doing it. He was an unmitigated ass, and demanded I get out of the line. I stepped aside to let the other people get their tickets. The ticket lady asked how I had gotten my tickets. I told her through the production company, a roadie by the name of Lyle. What is his last name? I have no idea. I only know his e-mail addy, which I got from the Coolest Person in the World’s Husband. I had left my phone in the car, and couldn’t call either TCPITW or her husband. Another asshole charged the window to complain about his seats. He was promised good seats, and these were too far to the side. He wasn’t going to sit there. They could just give him good seats or take these back, because he’s too important in his own head to sit with the riffraff in a side seat. I tuned him out. I don’t know how that was resolved.

There was one of the famous Men in Black, the Springsteen crew, standing next to the line. I asked him if he knew who Lyle is. I told him the names of TCPITW and her husband. He didn’t know them. Then, some random guy came out of the crowd and asked me if I was a friend of TCPITWH. Yes. And you? Haven’t seen them in years, he said. I knew all of the Claire Brothers’ crew back in the day. The Man in Black picked up some tickets from the window and left. And then, out of the blue, and a mere 45 minutes after I got to the window,  the ticket lady came back and said that my tickets had all been straightened out. She handed me two tickets and my credit card and my driver’s license. Enjoy the show.

Into the arena, but not before another Line Nazi yelled at me for mistaking a line for a line when it wasn’t an official, I’ve been standing in this line for an hour line. I wandered further off. I ended up standing next to a guy who was here for his 30th show. We discussed our mates, who weren’t hard core fans like us. She was in for her first show, and I told the RLA that he would FINALLY see a Springsteen show. What have I been going to for 15 years, he asked? NOT a REAL show, my new acquaintance and I told him. A real show is three hours long, at least. He tells stories. He has a good time. The band feeds off the energy in the crowd and the crowd feeds off the energy of the band. It is a religious experience. Yeah, yeah, yeah, said the RLA, I’ve heard THAT one before.

Our seats were maybe ten rows up, to the side, but front of the stage. In fact, the extensions that Bruce ran along were right in front of us. The show started late. The crowd was a mix of aging rockers like me, older folks (no, really. There was an 83 year old abuela going up the stairs in front of us) and kids. Little kids. Babies, even, and even in the pit at the front of the stage. Finally, 15 minutes late, the lights went out and the band took the stage. Four mics were set up, which meant no Pati (and who cares anyway). This is the E-Street Band as it should be. (I can accept Suze). Danny has been replaced by the guy from the Seeger Sessions band.

The show opened with a video tribute to Danny, as Bruce sang Blood Brothers from a dark stage. And. Then. The earth shook. Here’s the set list: read it and weep. I sure as hell wept. And danced. And laughed. And felt a joy that goes beyond anything. The band was at the top of its game. Bruce was calling audibles, changing the list at whim. He was taking signs from the audience, holding them up and showing the band. Were they already in his set list, and he was just changing the order? Or was he taking requests. From the way the crew was scrambling to change his guitars, I think it was the latter, requests. At the end of the evening, the RLA acknowledged that yes, he had finally seen a Springsteen show and it was good.

Blood Brothers

Promised Land

I Wanna Be With You

Radio Nowhere

Out in the Street (first audible)

This Hard Land (sign)

Gypsy Biker (and Little Steven works it)

Bruce takes a moment to tell a story about Danny and CB radios.

Growing Up (request)

Candy’s Room

Prove it All Night

She’s The One (Oh. My. God. Miz Shoes can die happy, right then)

Bruce takes a moment to discourse on the last 8 years, and launches into the political, pointy portion of the show

Living In the Future

Mary’s Place (sign)

Girls In Their Summer Clothes

Devil’s Arcade

The Rising

Last To Die

Long Walk Home (Stevie takes a vocal solo and Miz Shoes goes weak at the knees. She may or may not have screamed “I LOVE YOU STEVIE”)

Badland (and Stevie and Bruce trade some fierce licks)

the band leaves the stage, and a sea of flickering cell phone screens light the arena. Encore number one.

Thunder Road (a sign says THUNDER RD, I’m 21 today)

Born to Run

ROSALITA

10th Avenue Freeze Out (with a guest horn player. He’s either the charter pilot or a commercial pilot, but he’s flown the band and tonight he’s got on his uniform and he’s playing with Clarence)

American Land (complete with karaoke on the jumbotron)

the band leaves the stage, but the crowd won’t hear of it. Chants. Clapping. Second Encore.

KITTY’S BACK, all 15 minutes of it, with each member of the band soloing

And that, my friends, is 25 songs, and three hours of non-stop rock and roll. THAT, my dear readers, is a Springsteen show.

Disappointed? I think not. Elevated? Revived? Liberated? Yep. High mass at the church of rock and roll.