They're Not Booing.....they're yelling Bruuuuuuce.

I spent the night with Bruce Springsteen.   And 10,000 other people at the Greensboro Coliseum. 

It was so great.  So, SO great.   

Picture Bruce, on center stage, looking awesome, wearing all black.  (Silly, inconsequential wife, Patty, at home, banged up after a fall from a horse.) And sure, Bruce was talking some whack liberal politics, but hey---I'm able to ignore all that.....because he's playing all OUR songs....just for me.    Me....on the 89th row.....in my khaki mom capris.  

I plotted all week about how I could run off with him afterwards....just chuck it all and live on the road.   Hang with the band.  I admit it.  I can't help it.   After all....we'd shared so much at Fan Camp.     

I'd even warned friends beforehand that if I was AWOL for a few days....they shouldn't worry. I'd be in touch from New Jersey as soon as possible with my new address-- for the country ham deliveries.

In the end, though....I couldn't face leaving my sweet Drew and my sweet little life here.

But still.....I do...just sometimes, for a little while....like to think about, dream about.....what it would have been like had Bruce pulled me up on stage all Courtney-Cox-Dancing-in-the-Dark-style....

   

Sigh.