Third time’s a charm; at least it was for us. Not that the other two times we saw Bruce this year weren’t amazing, they totally were.
But seeing Bruce Springsteen on Tuesday at the Meadowlands was magical. It was such a special night. A perfect summer night in a great stadium, Bruce on home turf in Jersey, and we were in the perfect spot.
This was my 17th show since my very first time I saw him perform in Munich in 2003. It was definitely one of my favorites, if not my very favorite. The setlist was epic. The band played for 4 hours straight, setting a new record. And I have a clever husband who was able to leave work early and knew exactly which spot to pick.
Jeff actually got a wristband for the pit, but he knew that I likely wouldn’t (because kids, babysitter, and leaving from Brooklyn, hence a later arrival). So he was a in the second tier general admission area, right by the podium where we knew Bruce would sing for at least a couple of songs.
And he did!
I was pretty
And much more composed than last time I was in this very same spot (different stadium, but ok), when I cried my eyes out. Here I am, six years ago at the old Giants Stadium.
This time around I wasn’t so emotional; I was more in awe. I just looked at Bruce, sang along, grabbed his hand, and he looked at me for a moment, because, after all, I am the tallest person around. And this time around he hopefully wasn’t as freaked out, because after all I wasn’t crying…
The crowd was amazing.
And at the end, fireworks!
We came home at 2:30am the next morning. Our babysitter looked at us sleepily. The kids, thankfully, didn’t wake us that night, so we got a nice, four hours of rest.
The next day I definitely paid for it. My back was shot. How does this soon-to-be 67 year old man do it, when I have a hard time just standing and singing along for four hours? My mind is blown. My body was tired. My heart was happy.
Just as it should be.