Dancing in the dark and loving every second

When I was younger, I was a fan of many things. Favourite hockey players, football players, music singers and bands. Actors, actresses. I’d clip the pages out of Tiger Beat magazine and the Edmonton Sun newspaper and plaster the walls of my bedrooms with the images of those who captured my interest. 

As the years fell away, my priorities changed and I found myself having less time to devote to following favourites. I still liked many things but considered myself to be a fan of few. 

There are two exceptions to this rule: the Boston Bruins hockey team and Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band. I’ve seen the Bruins play when they’ve come to Edmonton to face the Oilers. And I’ve been lucky enough to see the Bruins in their own rinks: both the old Boston Garden and TD Garden. I’ve followed draft picks and trades and coaching transitions. I’ve yelled at the TV when the Big, Bad Bruins of the 1970s fought bench-clearing brawls. I’ve screamed with joy when the Bruins won the Stanley Cup in 2011 and I’ve cried tears when they been knocked out. It’s never easy being a Bruins fan but it’s also never boring. 

As for Springsteen, I became a fan because his music was different than most of what I listened to growing up. The majority of his music wasn’t the sugary pop, the hard-edged rock or the twangy country that was on my mixed tapes. It is, well, different. It tells interesting stories in a way that hits my heart. He’s been cool, not cool, cool if you listen to the critics but, in my eyes, he’s always been the guy. 

Seeing The Boss and The E-Street Band was always on my bucket list. He’s been to My Hometown twice before this latest stop but I wasn’t fortunate enough to score tickets. This time, though, I vowed it would be different. This time, I’d see him. 

But I almost didn’t. He was originally scheduled to play in 2023 but an illness forced him to cancel his tour. The rescheduled date was November 2024 and, although I wasn’t able to get a ticket the first time, this time there were scattered single-seat tickets released. 

Tickets are expensive and I waffled between a cheaper seat or one closer to the stage. Money versus experience. The experience won out. I bought my solo ticket and waited with barely concealed anticipation for the night to arrive. 

When it did — the night to check off a bucket list item, to see a concert I’ve only dreamed I’d see — I let my fan shine. 

I giddily went early to the arena he was playing in because I wanted a tour T-shirt. After my purchase, I sat on a window ledge and chatted with other concertgoers about their experiences attending Bruce Springsteen concerts. I listened to how they became fans, what their favourite songs are. We exchanged parts of our lives and connected while we waited. 

And before I knew it, it was time to line up, go through security and find my seat. 

I loved my seat! It was close to the ground but high enough up to have an amazing view. And I could see the stage so clearly that I only occasionally glanced at the Jumbotron. 

While the crowd was getting in place, I texted two of my closest friends and they texted back, as giddy as I was, excited that I had this opportunity. 

The 7:30 p.m. showtime came and went but, a mere 10 minutes later, the E-Street Band in place, the spotlight shone on Reverend Bruce as he asked if we could feel the spirit and, just like a tent revival, we screamed back “we do” — and he took us to church. 

Now as a rule, I don’t dance at concerts. For many years, I was a very full-figured lady and I thought I’d block someone’s view and, well, I didn’t want to hear about it. So I’d glue myself to my seat and enjoy my concert that way. That all went out the window with this concert. First of all, I’ve lost a lot of weight so I’m more confident about the space I take up. Secondly, I no longer care. 

All of this to say: From the opening of Spirits in the Night, this girl was a dancer! A singer! Not only did I want to attend the church of Bruce but I wanted to be baptized in the magic that was his concert. 

The energy was electric. The crowd was enraptured. It was everything I could’ve hope for — and more. It was lust and love. It made real the years of listening to his music, singing about the Badlands, about being Born to Run, about a Tenth Avenue Freezeout. 

There were a couple moments, during The Rising and The River, where my eyes cried just a little. I went alone but I could feel the presence of My Favourite Husband with me, telling me that this night, this holy, inspirational night, was a gift and that cherishing it, treasuring it would last a lifetime. He wouldn’t have danced or sang but he would’ve been alright with his girl doing both.

Bruce and his band played for over three hours. Old classics, new material. One of their encore songs was Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Only they are cool enough to pull that off!

If I had a wish, it would’ve been for the night to not end.

But as all things must, it did. The lights in the arena turned up and then on. And it was our signal that the sermon we’d just had, the revival we’d been a part of had its last hallelujah, its last amen. It was time to go home and carry the message; the message of love and hope and of every day life and the magic in it.

I walked out of the doors of the arena into the cold, dark winter night cocooned in a blanket that kept my heart warm. A blanket where being a fan and realizing a bucket list item weren’t for young kids but for people of any age. Being a fan of someone or something is where the magic happens and we can all use a little magic in our lives.