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My Brother’s Dying Wish is to See Bruce Springsteen in St. Paul
Bruce Springsteen sold out St. Paul Xcel in about 5 minutes. © Big Stock Photo
The oncologist at the University of Minnesota said most people diagnosed with soft cell sarcoma don’t live longer than a year, so it’s cutting it close to try to get my dying brother tickets to see Bruce Springsteen in St. Paul this February. He was diagnosed last February and is presently in clinical trials but it won’t save him. The tumors have traveled to his lungs. He’s been valiant about the whole process and refuses to sell his car, although I hear his wife gave away his snowblower.
He asked about the Bruce Springsteen show coming to Xcel Center in St. Paul in February 2016. The Boss is his favorite all time band, and he has never been to a show, if you can believe that. I figured if there is one thing I could do for him is to buy him front row tickets with wheelchair access.
I considered trying to find the promotor of the show, but I don’t know if we want to call attention to my brother’s condition to Bruce himself. I mean, how happy could he be playing to a guy in the front row who, for all practical purposes here, could die right there in the middle of the concert. Fall out of his wheelchair and never get back up. That’s not a warm fuzzy feeling for the audience. Hey, is that a dead guy on the floor?
My first attempt to get tickets was to set my alarm where I am on my wor-cation in Hawaii for 5:30 AM, just so I could be up and at my computer when they went on sale at 10 AM central standard time. I could not sign in. Ticketmaster was blocked from my server. Ack. What to do what do to?? Aha, turn off my VPN, that did the trick! When I got to the site, it said I was a day early, and they went on sale on the 11th, not the 10th. Saved!
Bright and early on the 11th, signed in to Ticketmaster, and it began the countdown to 30 seconds to sale. Then it redirected me to Excel Center, and I lost time. I tried wheelchair access. No such luck. Tried limited mobility, nope. Tried main floor general admittance, no seats. Tried best available, and then every single combination I could think of, and there were no tickets at all.
On top of that, the site had a warning that if I bought tickets with my credit card, I might not be able to transfer the tickets to my brother. What? I waited until all the hoopla died down and tried Stub Hub. Seats with wheelchair access were $1800 each! Ouch. I don’t even know if my brother will still be alive by February. I’ve never in my life not been able to buy tickets online for a concert. It doesn’t feel good to let down my dying brother.
P.S. This is a footnote because I didn’t want this blog sitting all by itself in cyberspace without its conclusion because my brother did end up going to see Bruce Springsteen, thanks to Jon Bream.
Rock and Roll Never Dies and The Music Doesn’t Fade Away
An older, and by older I mean over-60 Sacramento real estate agent gets far more respect from younger people nowadays than an aging rock-and-roll star. Thank goodness I am in the right profession. The motto far back as I can remember was you’re not getting older, you’re getting better. And wiser, hopefully. Nobody tells me that I am too old to sell real estate and lives. But there seems to be a backlash against entertainers who aren’t as spry as they used to be simply because they’re older. It’s enough to make an older person want to whack these little punks across the noggin with a cane.
Some reporter who probably used to have a hard-on for Bruce Springsteen complained that The Boss wasn’t performing like he did at the peak of his career which, according to that guy, was at age 26. LOL. When I read that editorial, I could only imagine the shrieking outrage from fans and even suspected that perhaps the reason for such drivel was to spark an uproar and bump up online hits for the Sacramento Bee. On the other hand, it’s a silly opinion of a person who probably secretly jacks off to Thunder Road. Everybody except that guy apparently is mad for a live Bruce Springsteen concert. Springsteen puts his all into every show. Pure adrenaline.
It’s a big thing now — for Baby Boomers especially, and we are targeted like no tomorrow — to attend concerts headlined by rockstars of our youth. It also provides retirement income to some whose managers ripped them off over the years. It’s not like reliving youth but some memories do return that were long ago buried, and that’s kind of sweet. The Happy Together Tour comes to mind. It’s also a yardstick to use so you can laugh at your goofy self as a teenager / college student and then understand how far you have come. (I don’t have yardsticks known as kids.)
What bothers me somewhat about these shows is how snooty I have become about concerts. It’s almost 50 years later. I still want front row seats. Only now, instead of camping out in front of the theater for hours beforehand or squeezing my way to the front by-hook-or-by-crook through throngs of stoned-out freaks, now I am willing to pay for that privilege. I am not standing in the hot sun (OMG, melanoma) or sleeping on the sidewalk (my aching back), no way, Jose. And, I expect a comfy chair. If I could enjoy concierge, valet and cocktail service, all the better. I wonder what my younger self would have said about this attitude?
Don’t answer that.
