Rock Scene
When I was a teenager, my father used to go into NYC for business on a fairly regular basis, and he would always be willing to stop into a record store or bring me a copy of the Village Voice, picked up at the newsstand at Grand Central. (This was before I could drive, and could go get my own copy at the newsstand at Bull’s Head in Stamford, the only place in town I knew of that carried the Voice).
One day he walked in the house and handed me a copy of this magazine.
“You like Bruce Springsteen, right?”
“Right, Dad.”
“They were out of the Village Voice but I saw that and thought you’d like it.”
It was like he had handed me the keys to the kingdom.



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