thanks for spending the evening with me, bruce (you know better than anybody that music is the best therapy)

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.
– Thunder Road, Bruce Springsteen
First, this song holds a huge place in my heart. . .  and has for many years. . . I love Bruce. . .
So when I woke up from a nap around 1 AM, after having been out with my family in Mervin the Smartchair for the first time since hell broke loose last weekend (and I am so thankful to have been able to go again!), my husband had tagged me in a post on Facebook letting me know that Bruce Springsteen on Broadway was on Netflix – and I was really freaking excited. Then, when I turned on Netflix, it immediately popped up.
Two and a half hours of Bruce telling the stories of his life and singing his songs acoustically.
Amazing. Absolutely stunning. Funny and warm and sweet and just. . .
make this the very next thing you watch on netflix. you won’t be sorry.
And truly a gift for me after all that we’ve experienced here in the past week.
Actually, it took over three hours to watch for Henry and I because he sang just parts of some songs – but all of Thunder Road – and it was listened to several times over – and I’m listening to the whole damn thing again as I write. ❤
(Of course, a lovely version of Thunder Road is linked at the very bottom of this post. <3)
See, as I’ve written about before, when Prince passed away, I sat down and tried to do my sort of Top Ten Songs Ever list. Kind of a Songs Of My Life List. It ended up being 16.

My Ten 16 All Time Favorite Songs (in no actual order)

1. Me and Bobby McGee – Janis Joplin

2. When A Heart Breaks – Ben Rector

3. These Days – Foo Fighters

4. Wild Horses – The Rolling Stones (but The Sundays version is my current favorite)

5. Oklahoma Sky – Miranda Lambert

6. Purple Rain – Prince

7. Desperately Wanting – Better Than Ezra

8. Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley (but the Rufus Wainwright version is much loved too)

9. Mad World – Gary Jules

10. The Man Who Sold The World – David Bowie/Nirvana. I love, love, love Nirvana’s Unplugged version of this song but there will never be another Bowie either.

11. Milwaukee – Stephen Kellogg & The Sixers

12. Murder In The City – The Avett Brothers

13. Thunder Road – Bruce Springsteen

14. Vincent (Starry, Starry Night) – Don McLean

15. Waiting for My Real Life To Begin – Colin Hay

16. Give Me Novocaine – Green Day

Now I have added #17 – Lady Gaga’s Born This Way – so much love – and also #18 Van Morrison’s Into The Mystic – because it should have been there all along but was somehow overlooked??? – since I wrote it. I pray that it’s way up to 30 or 40 songs with added songs that I haven’t met yet that will touch my soul before my story is done. ❤

I love Bruce. And I think in song lyrics. Music is so much of my story. Concert tickets and iTunes gift cards are my love language. Hell, Sara is completely teenage traumatized because it has been months and we still haven’t found a song on 80’s Love Ballad Pandora that I don’t know. Seriously. Bahaha!

I say all of that to say I needed this beautiful new find tonight – thank you, baby! – so much. It’s easy to get lost in the dark of being a patient sometimes. And I am a patient – but I’m not JUST a fucking patient. Not at all. Not even CLOSE.

And Bruce showed up to visit as I had already filled in my planner for the week with only a few medical chores that must be done – and a LOT of creative tasks – and piled my bed high with books and filled my devices with podcasts and new playlists yesterday. I’m taking a Christmas break from being Lulu Medical Chick and instead I’ll be wrapping presents and writing and listing to music and watching movies.

I had already gone to find me, after I wrote yesterday’s blog post.

I can’t ever let myself get buried in the “patient” muck for too long, even though I have many “patient” things I have to deal with.

And, when he was opening Thunder Road, Bruce was talking about being 19 and feeling young and feeling like life was full of blank pages to be written and missing that feeling sometimes.

He said, ” The beauty of that blank page. . . That blank page laying there, daring you to write on it. . .”

And I totally feel that.

I have a countdown app on my phone and it keeps up when Christmas is coming and birthdays and weddings and that sort of thing.

And I will be 40 very soon:

my 40th birthday is approaching.

Generally, I honestly feel nothing but profound gratitude for my approaching birthday – and I pray for many more. I want many sparkles and much confetti. I would hire a skywriter to tell the world I’m turning 40 if I could.

You gain a new perspective on aging when you fight chronic illness. Birthdays are so freaking fab – especially the “big” ones. 😉

Still, I got to thinking about Bruce’s blank pages. . .

And, you know, just like him, I don’t have as many as I did when I was that 19 year old kid. That’s just life.

But, Lord willing, this 40 year old woman still has quite a few to fill.

And the added benefit of some great stories to write about from the past twenty years of wandering around. . .

And hopefully a tiny bit of wisdom picked up from those years of wandering around too.

And this beautiful family and these amazing friends to show for that time. ❤

His vibe seemed to show the same.

Towards the end of his show – before he closed, blessing the crowd with The Lord’s Prayer, oh my heart ❤ – he talked about dealing with dark times – and this present darkness we are all in.

And his mom, who he had been telling stories about all throughout. He talked of her love of dance and how even seven years of fighting Alzheimer’s hasn’t been able to steal it from her.

And he reminded us all to take a lesson from his mom, and, even when things are rough, to dance. ❤

Thank you, Bruce. I can’t wait for your book. ❤

Be well, everybody. Turn on whatever music lights your soul on fire today.

Grace and Blessings.


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