The Tactical Retreat

Digression from main Bruce thread #1: There she was...

It was August of 1984. She had been brought to the house by an older brother who was dating her best friend, she was from Spokane and down in LA for the summer. I saw her wild blond "Nina Blackwood" styled hair above the rugby scrum of fraternity brothers (she's almost 5'11'') all trying to get in her graces while cock-blocking or being cock-blocked by their closest friends. She caught my eye, how could she not? Long and slender with shy, almond shaped eyes, lovely mouth and chin and a high regal stature. By 1984 I had grown tall and lost the pudginess of my adolescence. I wasn't cool, but could do a pretty good impression of it. I knew that phalanx of idiots in pursuit of my future honey's tender charms were a mojo killer. I had learned that, in matters of the heart (and other areas) that tactical retreat and patience could yield results that pressure and desperation couldn't. Yeah, she was striking and I was smitten, but there was no way I was going in, not then, not there.

The next night was a beach party, and (lucky for me!) there she was sitting on a log by a fire pit, alone. I grabbed my friend Steve and said "Do know that girl?" he shook his head "Introduce me" we walked over and he said "This is Dodd, what's your name? She said "Beth" I then said "Oh, yeah we spent the night together last night" then she said "We'll it must not have been very good, or I'd remember you" Ouch!

For what ever reason I was able to weasel onto this girl's radar, we become a summer couple. I liked being with her, I liked looking at her, we said our good-byes a couple of weeks later. There was something there, but she seemed aloof and indifferent to me, we stayed in contact (by snail mail, remember that?) and she agreed to come down for the Born In the USA tour in October...


Opening Night- Born In The USA - LA Sports Arena

There we were: Shony and me and our girls (they would both become our wives, still are!) in the 2nd row, dead center, no bullshit, no scalpers, we'd earned our right to be there. The Anthemic show opener "Born in the USA" was followed by a smattering of old and new Bruce, the shows, which are always good, felt more like an social event and less like the catharsis of old. It wasn't Bruce, he was, as always, spot on and in the moment, it was the crowd: they were there for the scene. What should have been a great series of shows were a little disappointing. It felt like we had lost some innocence and the messenger (or who the messenger was dating) got more important than the message. It was somehow different. By the time BITUSA and all the singles moved through the charts it established Bruce as worldwide media fodder. Even Reagan took a shot at co-opting a piece of Bruce. Then there was the marriage to an actress/model. Who gives a fuck? I didn't want to know his private business, and I didn't care for the people who somehow thought it made them bigger or better fans because they knew some personal shit about him. It was, and always has been about the music for me. I'm a snob, whatever, STFU if you think your stupid ass Bruce insider knowledge means anything to me.



Digression from main Bruce thread #2: The Boss Club

About 1985 I started going to The Boss Club. Some Springsteen devotees had set it up in the anachronistic locale of the Imperial Gardens, an old school Japanese restaurant on Sunset (it would later become the Roxbury). Every Tuesday night they would play Springsteen tunes and run grainy VHS bootlegs of ancient Bruce shows from yore. I had a regular booth there and was the venue where the following incidents may or may not have happened: I dove Slip N' Slide style across the beer soaked dance floor headfirst, I made out with Paris Hilton's future Aunt, watched Rob Lowe get denied by a chubby redhead (what was she thinking? I'd of fucked him, and I'm straight) had drinks with Michael J Fox (that lil feller could pack it in)

The Boss Club was a sweaty, loud and anachronistic joint (I mean a Springsteen themed club in the middle of a Japanese restaurant?) but in the mid-80's you were either wearing a puffy shirt with eye-liner or had skinny jeans with metal hair, or you were marginally normal and went to places with an element of fun and hijinx.