That was the marquee at Shea’s for my first Bruce Springsteen concert, at least we got his name spelled right. In the intervening 31 years (damn!), a lot of bootlegs have come through the cassette and cd player, the albums are sometimes flawed, and I’m getting closer to the answer of my daughter’s question “Just how many copies of Prove it All Night does your Ipod need,” but the sum of the experience is greater than the parts. Part political rally, part dance party, part schtick, it’s just good for your soul. Only thing missing is the ability to wear my t-shirt (yeah, I’ll buy on tonight) to school to show the others kids that I was there.


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