E6

Laverne Stewart

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I completely understand the depths of passion some people have for certain entertainers.

While I am not in love with The King of Rock 'n' Roll, I do have a bit of an obsession with The Boss.

It started when I first heard songs from his album, The River.

I was 16 and full of angst. The songs of passion and pain spoke to me in a way no other music had before. I played the album over and over again.

Then came Nebraska and Born in The U.S.A. When his world tour to promote that album came to Toronto in 1985, there was nothing that would have stopped me from getting on a plane to experience that moment.

To quote Bruce Springsteen: Glory days, yeah they'll pass you by ... Glory days, in the wink of a young girl's eye ... Glory days, glory days ...

Yes, these truly were some of my glory days! I was 20 years old that summer and working as an office assistant. I quit the job early so I could get to that concert. No one I knew was interested in going but it didn't matter. I decided it was a moment best savoured on my own.

I bought a concert package that included airfare, concert ticket and my hotel accommodations. For two hours, Bruce Springsteen sang for me - and thousands of other fans - at this sold-out show. It was a marvelous moment under the stars that I will never forget.

I also won't forget the repercussions of my night with Bruce. All of the money I had saved that summer to go back to school had been blown on that trip. In the two days I was in Toronto, I stayed at The Fairmont Royal York Hotel, I dined in some amazing restaurants, bought some beautiful clothes and basically lived the rock star lifestyle until it was time to fly back home and face the music.

Sheepishly, I had to explain to my father than I was penniless just a week before I was to return to class. I needed his help to pay for tuition, books, food and rent. Well dad, being dad, was very quiet and then got out his chequebook. He wrote out an amount that he thought would be more than enough to cover all of my expenses for the year.

But my father wanted me to learn a lesson from the experience. He informed me that when I finished school, I would have to pay him in monthly instalments until the full amount was returned. I did.

Whenever I hear Springsteen sing, now I smile and think of those carefree days when all that mattered to me was his music.

The other day I introduced my nine-year-old daughter to The Boss through YouTube. As she watched Bruce Springsteen on stage belting out the gritty and gut-wrenching Johnny 99, I watched her reaction to the man and his music.

"He's hot," she said as she watched him sing and dance in skin-tight blue jeans and T-shirt. Her eyes never left the computer monitor as he moved to the beat of Dancing In The Dark. But when I showed her a photo of Springsteen today, she wasn't as impressed.

"He's old," she said as she turned away from the computer. Well, everything is relative. To a nine-year-old, a 60-year-old man is ancient. To me, he's still as hot as was when he was 35.

Springsteen and his music 24 years ago had a power over me so strong, I was willing to spend every dime I had to be in his presence for a couple of hours. I wouldn't consider doing something as frivolous today, but every time I listen to his music, I am transported back in time to that concert and to the girl I was when all that mattered was that man, that music and that moment.

Laverne Stewart is a staff writer at The Daily Gleaner. She can be reached at stewart.laverne@dailygleaner.com