Tuesday, January 3, 2017

"Tramps Like Us": Springsteen's Final Chapters with Me


The readers of my blog have been following my thoughts as I have been reading Bruce's deeply personal autobiography, "Born to Run." The is my finale, and I hope to not put any spoilers forth yet give you an understanding of my attachment to this American icon, both as a teacher and as a fellow traveler through the turbulent and glorious decades we both have had the good fortune to frolic. Thus, some finale thoughts:

1) Longevity (aka: Going Balls to the Wall): We are both in our 60's, yet six years apart. Springsteen has far more 'dents in the armor' as my good friend Gary Charlebois puts it; however, both the knees and the noggin have had their share of repairs. Springsteen's years touring, not to mention his longer-than-an-NFL- football game, concerts are awe inspiring. Perhaps it was because he had nowhere else to go then, and because the limelight could be the antidote for what ailed him. He learned the hard way the tours may help the symptoms, but wasn't the cure. The addiction to center stage is something to which I can thoroughly relate. 32 years is a long time to teach--5 shows a day--'give em all ya got!' Then in the latter years, I came home and crashed on the couch, only to be nudged awake by my devoted wife for our dinner. But I wouldn't change a thing. I loved teaching kids--the thrill is never gone. Now I make cameo appearances--LIVE-- and through my novels and this blog. I hope to keep on keeping on.

2) Losing souls: Along the way, as Emily Dickinson surmised, if one could not stop for death, death would not kindly stop for us. The E Street Band lost its organ player, Danny, and its 'BIG MAN on the saxophone,' Clarence. Bruce, in his own words, lamented: "It was like losing the rain." It is strange how death affects me differently. When I was 21, I lost a high school friend and teammate, Larry Hughes. It was my first funeral. It was sad, but I was not shaken as I am today when I was recently told that another friend and teammate passed. Tim Millar, like Larry, had signed my yearbook, noting great optimism for our futures. At least Tim got to enjoy 61 years, 40 more than Larry. I was shaken by his loss, not because of our personal closeness, but because his untimely death is a 'kind' reminder of my own mortality. That brings me to ...

3) ..."The Lord's Prayer: No spoiler here, but Bruce closes his chapter on lost souls reflecting on the prayer I say to myself each day. We both grew up catholic, went to a 'Saint's church' most every day for a while but found ourselves detached from its doctrines, not to mention its hypocrisy. But to my surprise, Springsteen returns, as I do, to the Lord's Prayer, and both of us feel a sense that 'somebody up there likes me.' I feel abundantly blessed with a loving wife and children, as does he. I don't know what I would have done or how I would have possibly felt fulfilled without them and the chorus of close friends who have guided me through thick and thin. Ditto Bruce. Both our parents made the 3,000 mile trek in the 1960's, desperate to head to the Promised Land of California. My folks courageously took off in a Rambler, and without a job in hand and nothing but their wits and wherewithal, stayed here. For all that, I am eternally grateful. Bruce Springsteen's folks left without him, and the abandonment he felt as he stayed in 'Jersey' makes his rise so unlikely and inspiring.

Finally, Turnin' 60: I do not want to divulge the climax to his story, but suffice it to say, at a time of desperate need, we found peace.

The singer and writer long for a audience, as does the teacher and writer. It is the audience, you--the reader, the student, the listener, who drive us to tell our story BECAUSE YOU MATTER. And we hope that we strike a chord in you, those who have sat behind the desk or on the stage floor, and that in so doing, we have made a difference in this Jungleland.




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