Bruuuuuce: The Only Boss I'll Listen To

Here's dedication for you.  I just spent the last two hours and forty six minutes trying to post this blog, with no success!  The good part of the story is that I was able to watch the sunset from the deck; the bad part is that I am not sure whether the site will stay with me.  Those of you who know me well enough know that I am frustrated beyond belief when this happens....Oh, well, without further ado.....

It has once again been two weeks since I have posted.  Who knows where the time goes.  Well, I do, somewhat, it is all those parties and dinners.

Friend Marion and husband Peter invited me for dinner a few weeks ago.  It is always nice to see how others live in Palm Springs, and they live in a wonderful apartment within walking distance both from our gym and from downtown.

A little bit of Europe in Palm Springs

Marion, our gracious hostess....

.....and with Husband Peter....

....and other guest Bruce

Food and conversation were wonderful, and it was a lovely evening, the kind you always wish there were more of.

Neighbor Michael is always trying to introduce me to the charms of old Palm Springs - you know, the kind where you expect Frank Sinatra to come out from behind the piano.  Herman's is one such place.  It is just off the main drag in "downtown" Palm Springs, but hidden behind a gate and lots of lush foliage. 

The bar and the bartender were great...

....as were the martinis...

...but I can't speak to the food - I was pretty wasted by the time I got to it (and yes, Michael was driving - he always does).  I hope all you foodies and drink collectors are taking notes....

It was about time for me to have another party (it is that kind of a place), so we fired up the barbeque ....

Mar, the barbeque guy par excellence......

Lou, alternate barbeque guy, out of work, has a drink....

.

....even Carolyn sits down....

Art, doing what he does best....

Mar gets to enjoy the fruits of his labor, and Mariah enjoys his enjoyment....

....and Wally needs another greyhound

(For the uninitiated, a greyhound is Palm Springs official drink, freshly squeezed grapefruit juice and vodka.)

Ultimately, the sun does go down...

....and even the hostess gets to rest!

For a while.  That was Sunday.  Monday morning, at the crack of dawn, I was on the road to San Francisco. It is really not a bad drive - about 8 1/2 hours - and it it is timed right, one can miss traffic both at the Los Angeles end and the San Francisco end. And so it came to pass, and I arrived at Hank's in time for a pre-dinner drink and a leisurely walk to our now regular haunt, The Alamo Square Bistro (again, foodies take note).

And now, finally, the Bruce part of the adventure begins.

Again, for the unitiated, Hank turned me on to Bruce Springsteen some 10 years ago, and we have been going to the concerts ever since.  Here's the drill.  We buy General Admission (fondly known as GA's) tickets, which entitled us to stand on the floor of the hall.  To do this, we have to arrive at the venue at about 1:00 P.M., and get issued a wrist band.  Then, one comes back around 4 hours later, to see if the number of our wrist bands will be selected to be in "the pit", that is, the area closest to the stage.

The "lineup" for the draw for pit passes.

In San Jose, we don't get lucky, so no entrance to the pit.  However, due to a fluke (they want me to check my knitting, so take me in via a separate entrance), I get to be at the rail immediately behind the pit, not a bad spot at all.....

As for the concert.........it was fabulous, and at 3 hours and 9 minutes, the second longest of the Wrecking Ball tour.  I would try to send the set lists and the reviews, but can't risk losing the blog post, so I will leave it to you to follow up if you are interested.  All I can say is, when Jon Stewart introduced Springsteen, he said "the guy empties the tank every time", and truer words were never spoken!

So, following along with the complicated logistics, on Wednesday, we drove from San Francisco to Palm Springs, where Hank and I spent the night, before Hank and I drove down to LA for another round of pit action.  This time, we are successful (both Thursday and Friday, almost unheard of), and I am elbows on the stage, Bruce looking directly at me, shaking hands with me close.

Again, I'm left speechless by the man's performance, the professionalism, the whole thing.  (yes, that's something, isn't it, Nora speechless!).  But, you know, standing for 8 hours, three nights in one week, well, I'm getting too old for this stuff.  On the other hand, there's Bruce, at 62, sweating buckets, singing his heart out, going across the stage on his knees, jumping on the piano to give "audibles" (calling out tunes not on the set list, which changes every night anyway) to the infamous E Street Band -  if he can sing it, I'll be there to listen!

Can you tell I had a great time?

And on Saturday morning I staggered back to Palm Springs, and I have spent the last two days recuperating by the pool!

And, unfortunately, I have another week to recuperate.  I say unfortunately because friend David, who was to visit from Vancouver next week, had to cancel because of the death of a friend.  I'm sorry - I was looking forward to the visit - but will probably manage to amuse myself somehow. 

And all that will be revealed in the fullness of time....