Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Bruce, please . . . .

For the love of G*d Bruce, not the slide! You're looking like somebody's crazy ass drunk uncle at a bar mitzvah showing the kids how he used to do it back in the day. Please. Dignity.
Which gives me an opportunity to discuss how I have never been able to understand the appeal of Bruce Springsteen.
I've been to one of his concerts. I won't argue with you that the man does have a lot of energy. I give him total props for that. But it all sounds like march music to me. He's like the John Phillip Sousa of our generation.
One of my sons was watching TV with me one day, and "Born to Run," came on as a commercial bed or something, and he turned to me and said, "Mom, isn't that Meat Loaf?"
My point exactly.
Wuh. Wuh. Wuh. Wuh. Ohhhhhhhh . . . .


2 comments:

cyradaria said...

I would like Bruce to be my crazy drunk uncle. Signed, Meat Loaf ROCKS.

Pam J. said...

The screen door slams, Mary's dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey, that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again, I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside, darling, you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty but, hey, you're alright
Oh, and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now, I ain't no hero, that's understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey, what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
Well, the night's busting open, these two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven's waiting on down the tracks

Oh oh, come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh oh oh oh, Thunder Road
Oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey, I know it's late, we can make it if we run
Oh oh oh oh, Thunder Road
Sit tight, take hold, Thunder Road

Well, I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride ain't free
And I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free, all the promises'll be broken

There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets
They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines rolling on
But when you get to the porch, they're gone on the wind
So Mary, climb in
It's a town full of losers, I'm pulling out of here to win