Written by Doug – the northlondonhippy

During the Summer of 1982, while I was still living on the Jersey Shore, I ran into Bruce Springsteen regularly. 

Bruce wasn’t just a local hero back then, he was a major, international rock god. He had already released his first five classic albums, toured the world repeatedly, and he only played the largest venues everywhere he went. 

That summer, I saw the Boss hanging out and performing in small bars “down the shore” nearly every weekend. Some nights, more than once. And he saw me, too.

These are my memories of “My Summer of Springsteen”.

The Fast Lane

It was the summer of 1982. I was still living at home with my parents about a mile inland from the Atlantic Ocean, in northern Ocean County. I had just completed my first year at Monmouth College. And I had a job in an office in Red Bank that summer. 

The drinking age in NJ was 18, but they raised it to 19, when I was 17 years old. It meant I had to wait an extra year to be able to hit a bar legally, and 1982 was that year. 

They checked ID really closely back then, especially in the summer when the tourists descended upon the area. Year-round Jersey shore residents called all the summer tourists, “bennies”. I bet they still do. Local legend says bennies are known for wearing socks with their sandals, and they are all terrible drivers. 

I was still hanging around with friends I knew from high school, and most of them preferred shitty bars with a top 40s DJ, no cover charge, and cheap drinks. I was into live music. 

That summer, I started going to the Fast Lane, a live music venue on 4th Avenue in Asbury Park. It’s gone now, but it used to be one of the biggest, busiest bars in town. 

I saw Billy Idol at the Fast Lane, Blue Angel too – They were Cyndi Lauper’s old band. 

It didn’t surprise me at all when Cyndi broke big, she was an incredible performer even back then before she was well known. I remember her coming into the audience, and spinning around like a whirling dervish while singing. It was quite a performance. 

Bon Jovi were the house band at the Fast Lane that summer, and I saw them open for headliners many times. They were good; tight too, but it wasn’t my sort of music. 

One night in June 1982, I was at the Fast Lane with an old friend of mine from high school, who I will call JB. He was into dancing, and a couple of us dubbed him “Disco JB”, because he would often take over the dance floor like John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever”. The boy could move.

I don’t remember what band was playing that night, but what I do recall is that JB drove, which meant I could drink. And I did, like I meant it. 

At one point we were both at the bar, when right across from us, I saw someone ordering a drink, that I swore was Bruce Springsteen. It looked just like him, but JB disagreed. We argued about it, I got wound up. I finally went around the bar to settle the dispute. I was a bit drunk by now. 

I walked right up to the guy and said, “Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but you’re Bruce aren’t you? My friend over there doesn’t think you are.”

Bruce laughed, and said yes, it’s me. I thanked him, apologised to him for disturbing him, and went back to my friend to settle the argument. JB admitted he was wrong. 

A short while later, Bruce was around the same side of the bar where I was, and we made eye contact. I spoke to him again, and said “I’m really sorry again for bothering you. I’m a huge fan, I have all your records, and I saw you last year at the Meadowlands, and the Spectrum. You’re my favourite!”

You get the idea, I gushed like a teenage fan meeting his hero, because that’s exactly what I was. The doubt I had from JB must have muffled this response in my first interaction, but the more I spoke, the more excited I got. It was Bruce Fucking Springsteen! And I was talking to him! He was the coolest guy in the room!

At the back of the length of the Fast Lane, was a large set of carpeted risers, that ran behind the bar, and opposite the main stage. Bruce asked me to sit down with him on them. So I did. 

He made small talk with me. He asked me my name, my age, where I was from, and what I did. Doug, 19, Point Boro, college student, and office worker. Also, a massive fan, and pissing myself with excitement because I was sitting here right now with Bruce Springsteen. I didn’t say that last part out loud. I tried to stay cool. I expect I failed.

Bruce excused himself, and said he’d be right back. I didn’t think he would return, but he did. And he brought me a Heineken. Bruce Springsteen bought me a beer! And it was imported, too!

He offered me the beer, I took it, and thanked him. Then he sat back down, and I asked him a few silly fan questions. I asked him about what I think of as his main guitar. It’s the one he’s holding on the cover of Born to Run, a natural coloured Fender Telecaster. I asked him what year it was made. He wasn’t sure, 1950-something, he said. 

He joked about needing a drink, because he’d had an argument on a phone call with his girlfriend, who was in LA. He said something about the distance.

After a while, Bruce and I said our goodbyes. JB didn’t want to stay out late, and since he was driving I didn’t have a choice, so we hit the road. 

I’ve reflected on this interaction with the Boss over the years. I realised that Bruce understood the importance of this moment for me… Or for any fan he encountered. 

Bruce knew it mattered. He could have brushed me off. He could have kept his distance after my first blundering contact. Hell, he could have had security remove me. But he didn’t. He treated me so kindly. He was so generous with his time. And he bought me a beer!

I don’t know if Bruce hit the stage that night, but he might have done. I wish I could have stayed to find out. I did save the empty beer bottle. He didn’t autograph it, or anything like that, but still I kept it for years anyway. 

I couldn’t believe I met Bruce Springsteen. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised, he had a reputation for hanging out in Asbury. I guess I never thought I would be that lucky. 

I had no idea how lucky I would really go on to be later that summer.

Springsteen Fever

My family moved to the Jersey shore when I was one year old, and the first place we lived there was Asbury Park. I grew up along the coast, it’s proper Springsteen country. Bruce grew up in the same general area. 

Before breaking big, Bruce started out in the seaside bars of Asbury Park. He was getting a lot of local press, long before he started receiving national, and then international acclaim.

In 1975, Bruce was on the covers of both Time Magazine, and Newsweek, at the same time. His star was rising, and has continued to rise, as it still does to this day. He soon became one of the biggest rockstars in the world, and he’s still selling out stadia over 40 years later. 

In high school, I was a massive Bruce Springsteen fan. He was a local hero, and arguably the biggest music star to come out of New Jersey. Frank Sinatra may have taken issue with that statement. Apologies to the Chairman of the Board!

I had all of Bruce’s early albums. And in my senior year I had an after school job at a record store in Point Pleasant Beach, when his fifth record, the double album, The River was released in 1980. It was his first new album to be released since I had become a hardcore fan. I was 17 years old. 

On the day of the release, I bought two copies, one on vinyl, and a second on cassette. I did get an employee discount, but still spent most of my wages there anyway. 

I couldn’t wait for my work day to finish, so I could hop in my car, and put the cassette into my tape deck. The cassette copy was meant only for my car. Cruising around the streets of the Jersey shore with loud music playing was a common, and popular pastime back then. 

When I got home, I played the LP too, over and over. It was sublime. From the radio-friendly hit single, Hungry Heart, to the deeply emotional title track, The River, every tune was an instant classic. I loved it.

Someone I knew had scored me an autographed photo of Bruce. It was a promotional pic from around the time of the release of Darkness on the Edge of Town , his fourth album. I still have the photo somewhere. I should find it. 

“Darkness” is my favourite Bruce album. As much as Born to Run put Bruce on the map, Darkness on the Edge of Town cemented his position as an amazing song writer. The music, lyrics, and subject matter were all taken to another level. There was a new expansiveness to this material. I wouldn’t say it was Bruce’s peak, but he was really hitting his stride. 

That said, and to answer a question I’m often asked, my favourite Springsteen song is Thunder Road. There is no finer example of a Bruce track. It’s perfection. From the gentle story of a man’s love for a woman, to their romantic escape, it’s a prayer, and a gospel to fleeing on the open road. And the song itself is beautifully structured, starting with the soft opening piano notes and gentle harmonica solo, and those first soulful lyrics. Then it builds more intensity as it barrels full speed towards that final, mournful saxophone solo ending. The song will bring tears to your eyes. Just me?

Many of Bruce’s songs, including Born to Run, are more about leaving New Jersey, than thriving there. That made it really awkward when NJ considered making it the official state song. 

But if you want a song from Bruce that celebrates the Jersey shore, I can think of no better tune than a track from Bruce’s second album, The Wild, the Innocent, & the E Street Shuffle, called 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy). Just listening to it, and I can smell the sea air, and cotton candy along the boardwalk.

I think you’re getting the idea. I was a massive fan. So when I finally got to see Bruce live for the first time, it was an incredible thrill. 

The first time I saw Bruce, he was on The River Tour. I saw him in July 1981 at the Brendan Byrne Arena in the Meadowlands. I think they just call it the Meadowlands Arena now. 

I had decent seats on the floor, maybe 15th row, centre. The show lasted easily 4 hours. I’ve seen hundreds of bands, and dozens of major headline acts, and I’ve never seen anyone with Bruce’s enthusiasm, or talent. 

Bruce is next level good. He’s magnetic, dynamic, and energetic, with a riveting stage presence. He wasn’t just Born to Run, he was born to perform! It was the best concert I’d ever seen, and was only bettered by other future performances from Bruce. 

A Springsteen concert is like a religious revival, and he powerfully delivers the evangelical gospel of rock and roll according to Bruce. It’s transcendent, and life changing. And I’m a believer!

I saw him again a week later, at the Spectrum in Philadelphia. They tore it down more than a decade ago, but it used to be another indoor arena, like the Meadowlands. Only this time, I managed to get 4th row, centre floor seats from a ticket agency. Scalping tickets isn’t new, and it wasn’t cheap, I paid 180 bucks for the pair. These days, good seats for a Springsteen concert would be one hundred times that cost. I was really lucky.

That concert in Philly was even more enjoyable than my first one, because of my amazing proximity to the stage. The show was similar, but he changed up some of the set-list too. I was so close, I could see the sweat dripping off him during the encores. 

I didn’t think I would ever better that experience of being so close to my musical hero, while seeing him perform live. Little did I know that around a year later, I would. 

My Summer of Springsteen

After my first encounter with Bruce, I next saw him again at the Fast Lane. I didn’t even know he was there, until he appeared on stage with the headliners that night.

The band was the Stray Cats, a rockabilly trio that were hot in the early 80s. They were wicked good. Towards the end of their set, the lead singer, Brian Setzer said he had heard a rumour Bruce was in the audience, and he invited him up on stage.

I didn’t expect this, and there was a long pause as Bruce made his way through the crowd to join the band on stage. They did three numbers, all rock and roll classics. I only remember two of them, Long Tall Sally, and Be Bop A Lula.

I was a couple yards back from the stage, and there was Bruce, shredding a guitar, and singing his heart out with one of the hottest bands around. I was in heaven!

I saw Bruce a couple more times at the Fast Lane, with Beaver Brown mainly. They were an east coast band, that sound a lot like Bruce. Check out the film Eddie and the Cruisers, if you don’t believe me. The band did the soundtrack. 

The bar I saw Bruce in the most that summer was the The Stone Pony.

The Stone Pony

I never spoke to Bruce again, but I saw him pretty much every weekend after that performance with Stray Cats in the Fast Lane. 

And if he saw me, Bruce always acknowledged me. I doubt he remembered my name, but he knew my face. Whether it was a smile, or a nod, or even a little wave of his drink, if he saw me, he always let me know. 

It got to the point, where I worried Bruce might think I was stalking him. I mean, I was stalking him, but only to see him perform. After a while, I even tried to avoid being spotted by him. I know that sounds silly, especially when you discover something I finally realised: I wasn’t the only one looking to see Bruce every weekend.

I’m pretty sure Bruce was working on his sixth album, Nebraska that summer. The record is a collection of 4-track demos that Bruce had recorded at home in NJ, that he released instead of the full E-Street Band versions. 

Nebraska was a really special record because the production was so stripped down, and basic. Bruce released it in September 1982, after my summer of seeing him so much. It would make sense that he was putting the finishing touches on it around that time. He’d work on it during the week, then at the weekend, he would cut loose in the local bars.

I’d look at the listings for live events in the area every weekend, and I’d guess where Bruce might pop up. It wasn’t that hard. You just needed to keep an eye out for the best rock and roll music being performed on a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday night.

The band I saw him with the most that summer, was Cats (On A Smooth Surface), and Bruce would often join them at 2am, for their entire final set. They were the house band at the Pony. Once I worked out Bruce liked to perform with them, it made finding him a lot easier. 

They used to do all sorts of rock and roll standards together. Twist and Shout was nearly always played. The old Gary US Bonds song, “Quarter to Three” as well. 

Towards the end of the summer, and I’m guessing since it became a regular occurrence, Cats started doing a couple of Bruce’s own tracks with him. I am struggling to remember which ones. Something from Darkness? The Promised Land? Candy’s Room?

Gary US Bonds had a bit of a revival in the 1980s, thanks to Bruce producing a couple of records for him. To show his gratitude, Gary gave Bruce a car, named after the first record they worked on together: “Dedication”. 

The car was a ragtop, and had the word “Dedication” painted on the sides in huge letters. It was hard to miss. Bruce drove it a lot that summer, and you would often see it parked around town. I tried to find a photo of it online, but I came up dry. I know they exist, I’ve seen them before. 

I also used to sometimes hang out at the Inkwell Coffeehouse in Long Branch. It didn’t serve booze, so it could stay open all night, and it was a groovy spot to hit after the bars closed. It was a very cool venue, known for good food, and Dutch Coffees. I read it closed last year. I was in there one night during that summer, and seated at the table next to me, was Garry Talent, the bass player from the E-Street Band. 

It felt like every time I turned around, there was something, or someone Bruce related. Even when I wasn’t trying. 

Meeting Other Mega-Fans

I wasn’t the only one following Bruce around that summer. At the Pony, I’d always make sure to be up against the stage for the very last set of the night, so that when Bruce performed, I was just a couple of feet away from him.

I would see the same faces night after night, including a heavyset woman, who was often next to me at the front of the stage. One night, I remember her reaching out, and repeatedly touching Bruce’s boot with her index finger. She would then make eye contact with me in her delirious excitement, every time she did this. I would find out who she was, eventually. 

And I ran into a guy I knew casually from Monmouth College. We got chatting between sets, and we both discovered we were Springsteen fanatics. He said he had a bootleg video of some Springsteen concert, but he didn’t have a VCR. VCRs weren’t rare in the early 80s, but they weren’t super-common either.

I told him I had a VCR we could use, and I also had a copy of the “No Nukes” movie, which featured, at the time, a rare filmed performance from Bruce. Obviously, I’m biased, but Bruce’s set is the best thing in the film. There are many clips on YouTube including the trailer to the updated digital version. That’s what it was like for me, seeing him every weekend. 

I started hanging out less with my old high school friends, and I would often go to Asbury on my own. It meant less, or no drinking, but it also meant I could choose my own venues. But once I encountered that guy from college, I would often hang out with him, and the other hardcore Bruce fans he knew.

Obie

My new friends came to my parents place one Saturday afternoon to hang out, and watch the Springsteen videos. 

The video my friend had was a bootleg recording from an arena performance. Someone had sneakily recorded the video feed from the big screen, along with the mix from the stage audio. It was surprisingly good quality for a bootleg. 

They mentioned they knew Bruce’s personal assistant. I didn’t know he had one, but he did. Her name was Obie, and she was a local Jersey Shore legend, that I bet you’ve never heard of before. 

Obie was also Bruce’s biggest fan, and she is credited on many of his earliest albums like this: Homework: Obie. 

One night, after seeing Bruce at the Stone Pony, the Springsteen fans I knew invited me to join them at an all night diner after the show. It was the only time. 

When we arrived, the car I mentioned with “Dedication” painted on the side was parked outside, only it wasn’t Bruce driving it that night. It was Obie, his personal assistant. 

At the diner, the woman I saw touching Bruce’s shoes at the Pony was already sat down at the table. I was introduced to her. It was Obie. I got to sit next to her. 

I’d be lying if I said I could remember much of the actual conversation. I know it was dominated by talk of Springsteen, and Obie’s infectious love of his music. She was unquestionably his biggest fan. I think she took an interest in me, only because I was new. 

I’d see Obie again in the bars that summer, and would say hi to her, but I can’t say I really knew her. I was sorry to see she passed away so young. RIP Obie. 

Big Man’s West

Big Man’s West was Clarence Clemons’ bar in Red Bank. It was a very cool venue, but it didn’t last very long. The local authority gave him a hard time throughout the period it was open. One of the restrictions they put on the bar, was it had to close at 1:30am. Most Jersey shore bars back then were open till 3am. 

I saw a few great shows there that summer. Little Steven and the Disciples of Soul were wicked good. And I saw Woodstock legend, Mr. Sheffield Steel himself, Joe Cocker perform there in front of a shockingly small crowd. 

Mr. Cocker was backed by a group of local musicians. Someone in the crowd told me it was mostly guys from Bon Jovi. I thought I recognised lead guitarist Richie Sambora. His guitar playing was amazing, but he spent most of the show, leaning way back against the piano with his eyes closed. I think he was wasted, but in a good way. It was a fantastic night. 

The act I saw the most at Big Man’s, was Clarence’s own band, Clarence Clemons and the Red Bank Rockers. It was a massive group, and it included a full horn section. 

Besides Clarence, the real draw was their lead singer, JT Bowen. His voice, and moves always reminded me of a skinnier version of James Brown. He was a performance dynamo. They put on quite a show.

I saw Bruce with them a few times, I think it was mostly on Sundays. There’s a reason I’m mentioning that. 

One of the bits Clarence’s band used to do was a 2-song medley that mixed two classic songs together: Jimi Hendrix’s “Fire”, with Springsteen’s “Fire”. The Pointer Sisters’ cover of “Fire” is probably the version you know, but Bruce wrote it. 

The Bruce song “Fire”, has a really classic baseline, that you would recognise, the same way Hendrix’s “Fire” has the memorable line “let me stand next to your fire”, and they combined the two in a way that was seamless. They used to do a ten minute version of it, with JT absolutely killing both tunes. Seeing Bruce join them, and singing it together with JT was life changing. It would give you chills. 

The other song I remember them doing is “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out”, from Born to Run. Little Steven had arranged the horns on that one, it’s a famous story. Hearing it live with a full horn section for the first time is something I’ll never forget. 

Whenever I went to Big Man’s West, I saw Clarence, whether his band was performing or not. He was even hanging around the night I saw Joe Cocker. He was hard to miss. He was physically imposing, I think he briefly toyed with playing NFL football, after playing ball in college. I cried a little when I read that he passed away in 2011. RIP Big Man. 

Remember, I mentioned Big Man’s had to close early, at 1:30am? The one bonus to that is Bruce would finish jamming with Clarence’s band around that time on a Sunday night, then he would jump in his car, and drive to the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. He would then join Cats for their last set at 2am.

And guess who would make the same drive? Yep, me. 

Summer’s End

Sunday nights became my favourite night of the week. I am pretty sure for three weekends in a row that August, I saw Bruce perform with Clarence Clemons’ band in Red Bank, followed by a second set with Cats at the Pony. Two sets in one night! Choose a superlative. Any you could think of would apply. It was superfuckingneatocool! I was in Springsteen heaven, it was a weekly Bruce-gasm. And all for a couple of bucks cover charge, and the cost of a beer. 

My old high school friends didn’t have much interest in the Asbury music scene. I ended up falling out with one of my best friends in the street outside the Stone Pony one weekend. 

My friend was driving, I was drinking. He wanted to go to some shitty bar near Shark River, called the Headliner for last orders. It wasn’t my scene; top 40s DJ music, and watered down drinks. It was a downmarket singles bar. 

We had a massive, screaming drunken row. I wanted to stay at the Pony, my ride didn’t. I stormed off in a huff. I was miles from my parents house. It was like 2am. There was no such thing as a mobile phone. I knew nothing about taxis. I was on my own.

Just had a look on Google Maps, the distance from the Pony to my parents’ old house in Point Pleasant is over 12 miles on foot. And it says that walk takes over 4 hours. At the time, I just knew it was far.

I probably managed the first five miles on drunken rage alone. At some point, mid-journey, I realised just how badly I fucked myself. It was somewhere between Belmar, and Bradley Beach that I stuck my thumb out, and tried hitchhiking. I wasn’t very successful. 

I managed another 5 miles or so, before a kind stranger picked me up. He drove me the last couple of miles, and dropped me off about 5 minutes walk from my final destination. 

It was nearly 7am before I finally made it home. I was exhausted, every muscle in my body was sore. I don’t think I have ever slept as long as I did that day. 

I only ever drove myself to Asbury after that, and I didn’t drink. Drinking is overrated anyway. I just wanted to see bands, and Bruce. 

The Last Show

I remember the last time I saw Bruce that summer. It was on a Sunday night at the Stone Pony. I’d like to be able to say it was Labour Day weekend, and maybe it was, but I can’t remember. 

I know the bar was packed out. Towards the end of the summer, word had spread that the Boss turned up at the Pony most Sunday nights. The place was heaving, and the crowd was wall to wall. 

I snaked my way up to the front of the stage for the last set of the night. Right next to me was the most stunning woman in the entire bar. I pretended not to notice. 

Bruce took the stage with Cats, and tore it up for an hour. It was a high energy set. 

That’s the thing about seeing Bruce up close that summer. He was the exact same performer I saw at the Meadowlands, and the Spectrum. He brought the same energy, talent, and showmanship to those small bars, that he brought to huge stages in front of thousands of people. It didn’t make a difference to him, he just loves doing what he does. And it showed, time after time.

I said earlier in this piece that Bruce was the coolest guy in the room, and whenever I saw him that was true. There was no one cooler. But when he was up on stage, blasting out rock and roll classics, or his own tunes, he wasn’t just the coolest guy in the room… He was also the happiest. And as much joy as he brought to the audience, he was always the most joyous in the house. Everyone should be lucky enough to love their job as much as Bruce Springsteen does. 

When the set finished, and the lights came up, the stunningly beautiful girl turned to me, and just blurted out, “That was amazing!”

She had long light brown hair, with blonde highlights, and long tanned legs. She was wearing a pair of frayed Levi cutoffs, sandals, a sheer, tight top, with visible tan lines. She looked like summer perfection. I don’t think there was a guy in the bar who hadn’t noticed her. She was so hot she sizzled. I can still picture her. 

I agreed with her, and said Bruce is great. She told me it was the first time she’d ever seen him, and she was only “down the shore” for the weekend. As I was talking to her, I could sense her attention was elsewhere. 

She was looking at something over my shoulder. I assumed she was checking out a better looking guy. There were definitely plenty of them. And I was right, she was looking at someone better looking, but I didn’t realise who it was at that point. 

I followed her gaze as she tracked someone moving through the crowd with her eyes. Then I felt a tap on my right shoulder, so I turned my head right, but no one was there. 

I then looked to my left, and there was Bruce. He had just passed behind me, and was still walking. He had his head turned around, looking right at me. He had tapped me on the shoulder. And then he smiled, and gave me a nod. 

Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. He saw me chatting to the best looking girl in the bar. He tried to give me a boost. Told you he was the coolest guy in the room!

The girl said, “Oh my god, do you know Bruce?”

“We’ve met”, is all I said. It was true. 

I wish I could tell you that I spent the night with this rock and roll goddess thanks to Bruce’s intervention, but I didn’t. She was laughably, unquestionably out of my league. She was only talking to me because she was so excited after seeing Bruce. It’s infectious, I knew the feeling. Her friends found her not long after that, and they all left.

Memories

I moved out of my parents’ place not long after that, and my visits to Asbury became more sporadic. I didn’t run into Bruce again. Big Man’s West closed. I started working full time. Life moved on, and so did I. A few years after this, I left the Jersey shore, and moved to the greater NYC area, with dreams of pursuing a career in the media, dancing in my head. 

I saw Bruce on the Born in the USA tour in ’85, at the Meadowlands again. Twice. He just kept getting better. It was his biggest album, and they were some of his best, and longest shows. 

In 1991, I moved to London. I saw Bruce again in 1992, at  Wembley Arena on the Human Touch/Lucky Town tour. It wasn’t a double album, it was two separate records. He didn’t have the E-Street Band with him on the tour. They didn’t perform on the records either. That was all new. 

I saw him again at the Brixton Academy in 1996, on the Ghost of Tom Joad tour. This time Bruce performed alone, and played only smaller venues like the Academy. It was a very stripped down, emotional show. Raw. 

The last time I saw Bruce live was at Emirates Stadium here in north London in 2008, on the Magic tour. He was back with the E-Street Band. Clarence was still alive, but Bruce’s original keyboardist, Danny Federici was ill, and only appeared on the first leg of the tour. He wasn’t with them when I saw the band, and he passed away around this time. RIP Mr. F. 

It was great to see them all back together again. It was an amazing show, Mrs. Hippy was with me, and it was her first Springsteen concert. She was blown away too. 

I’m still a huge Springsteen fan. I bet you worked that out. I still love his music, and especially his classic albums, but I dig his newer stuff too. He’s continued to grow as an artist, and he has continued to be prolific in the 40 plus years since I was lucky enough to make his acquaintance. 

As a long-time live music fan, I’ve seen countless bands; small ones, big ones, local ones, national acts, and international too. And of all the performers I’ve seen, none have compared to Bruce Springsteen. The fact that he is a genuinely good guy, is just a bonus. 

Nothing in my life has ever even come close to matching the amazing time I had over 40 years ago. It was the best summer of my life. It was my summer of Springsteen. 

The End

If you enjoyed reading this piece, there’s plenty more where that came from! 

Next up in the “Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll Collection” is MTV Redux. It’s about my time working for MTV Music Television in the mid 1980s, but it’s also about a whole lot more. 

(All words © Copyright 2023 – Doug – the northlondonhippy. All rights reserved)