seaside bar song: springsteen holiday shows
Small things to be grateful for: the moment when you drop onto the Garden State from the Turnpike and see ASBURY PARK on the signs. It’s easy to take for granted, to not view it as birthright or privilege. But when the last time you saw that sign was 15 years ago, it makes your heart stop. Talk to some of the European fans, sometimes, the ones I watched stroll over to the Boardwalk for one last time on Monday morning. Posing for that final picture, taking one more walk, gathering plastic bags full of sand and shells. I have the gift of remembering what the view south down the boardwalk from Convention Hall looked like. They don’t and they never will.
AP exit, straight down Asbury Avenue to the ocean. None of it looks familiar until I cross the train tracks and then the memories rush out so fast that my eyes are blinded by tears. I have to blink furiously to clear them fast enough to keep driving. And then, the ocean is ahead of you, wide empty open expanse, and the battered Palace comes into view on your right, the shuttered carousel behind it. It was like I’d entered a a parallel dimension. I didn’t wake up yesterday afternoon at 1pm and two hours later had a plane ticket to NYC that night, did I? That seemed too mundane a transportation mechanism for this destination. Surely I just closed my eyes, clicked the heels of my motorcycle boots together, and woke up here?
Can’t publish the full review here yet, but you can read it on usenet here.
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