Last Saturday my husband and I drove up to Jacksonville, Fl- a 5 hour drive to catch a Springsteen concert- our 5th of the summer. It is my religion in a sense, going to a Springsteen concert and at my age, I would venture to say that I have been to my “house of worship”, on E street more times than someone my age can actually recall. We have some rituals- tailgating with what we like to call Bruce juice and a buffet of sausage and pepper sandwiches as our homage to Jersey.
Well, since we had just arrived home from a 2 concert tour at Giants Stadium and Gillette stadium, and were feeling some pressures like, working for a living- we ran out the door and headed up the Thunder Road, (down pours, lighting bolts and Springsteen blasting from the cd player,) we made the fatal mistake of thinking we would just grab a bite on the way to the concert. SO, we checked in, washed up, donned our black t shirts and blue jeans and were about to head out for a bite when I noticed several people around the elevators, kept at bay by security. A hotel employee, most likely noticing my Boss” team uniform” attire, whispered that Bruce was in the building.
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