Springsteen's depressed? Join the club

(687 words)

It made me sad and confused when I read Bruce Springsteen suffers from prolonged bouts of deep depression.

Hasn’t he seen the Muppet movies? It’s impossible to be depressed after watching those hilarious flicks.

That Springsteen gets depressed shows how pervasive depression can be.

The man’s moved 64.5 million records, sells out multiple 20,000 must-see concerts in 15 minutes and has composed the soundtrack for America.

Heck, he was paid a $10 million advance on his book.

Given those surface facts, you know who really ought to be depressed?

My wife!

Springsteen wrote “Born to Run” in 1972.

I wrote “Golf is a Funny Game” in 2008.

Just writing about his depression depresses me. It’s not like his career ended in 1992 with “Pony Boy,” when, really, it should have.

So now I’m on alert for anything that might further depress this marvelous man I consider so vital to our national psyche.

Of course, it happened just this weekend.

What happened?

His motorcycle broke down.

Now, I doubt that made him sad. He may have said dang or poop, but I don’t think things like mechanical breakdowns depress him.

But I’ll bet the events that followed did.

A group of friendly New Jersey motorcycle enthusiasts — and that’s the PC phrase for bikers — saw a stranded cyclist and pulled over to help.

I don’t know if they’d have driven by if the disabled two-wheeler was pink and appeared to be a homosexual vehicle or if maybe the rider was wearing a leather Burqa. I suspect they stopped to help because they were just good guys.

They certainly didn’t know or care, I guess, that the owner was one of the world’s most famous and beloved rock stars.

“The moment I got off the bike I saw it was him,” said Dan Barkalow. “He was a real nice, down-to-earth guy. It was nice to help out.”

They drove him to a nearby restaurant and the Boss bought everybody drinks and they talked for an hour.

And everyone lived happily ever after, right?

Wrong. After the biker group posted a yippee! note about the experience they were besieged by Bruce-haters who condemned Springsteen for supporting Hillary. Barkalow said the vitriol was disgusting.

I’m sure Springsteen felt a wave of sadness over the inexplicable reaction.

It depresses me because if you can’t get over Bruce Springsteen supporting Clinton, how will you ever get over guys like me?

I tried to think of a comparable analogy of someone beloved by the right who liberals would be surprised to help if we saw them stranded as we approached in our Earth-friendly fleet of Priuses.

It had to be someone who the right reveres the way, gee, most of America reveres Springsteen, someone inspirational, someone the hardcore love without reservation.

I came up with Dick Cheney, Sarah Palin and the guy who played Chachi.

I went with Cheney because Chachi’s a bit of a mope and because Sarah’s just so smoking hot she wouldn’t have any trouble getting a road side assist.

Let’s say Cheney’s battery died and I stopped to give him a jump — and I mean his vehicle’s battery, not the one in his pacemaker.

I wouldn’t lecture him on his Iraq War bumbles, his ardor for criminal torture or if he thought it was funny that the guy he shot in the face apologized for letting himself get shot in the face.

I’d just try and help because, like those unsung Jersey bikers, that’s what good people do.

Sounds quaint, doesn’t it?

We’re being lectured about how we need to get over and, of course, we do. And I’m trying.

But it doesn’t help when we hear stories of people who so haughtily deny being deplorable racists doing things that are so deplorably racist like declaring Michelle Obama’s an ape in high heels.

It’s appalling.

And it doesn’t help when people attack Bruce Springsteen just for being, good God, Bruce Springsteen.

We need to celebrate without reserve our great American icons, even ones with whom we disagree.

You do it for our Springsteen. 

I’ll do it for your Chachi.

And if you’re still feeling bitter, might I recommend The Muppets.

Despite what you’ve been conditioned to think, there’s nothing icky queer about their rainbow connection.

Related …

The Boss for God: a concert review

The Good, the Bad & the Springsteen concert

I say nice things about Republicans

The prez, the killer & the origins of “Amazing Grace”

Farewell, Sarah, America’s flirt

Good news from a bad decade

It was earlier this summer when I was delivering some papers to the registrar at the Pittsburgh school where I do some occasional teaching. It had been a hectic day of heavy traffic and fruitless productivity.

The secretary informed me I had the wrong paper, the designated envelope was missing and I’d need to try it all over again during a second trip into town early the next day.

Out of harried frustration, I remember blurting out, “Geez, this just hasn’t been my decade.”

Has it been yours? Chances are, no, it hasn’t either.

I don’t by a longshot remember a less joyful decade during the more than 40 years since I was thoughtful enough to climb up off my Big Wheel and take an observant look around.

There’s been 9/11, the catastrophic break-up of the Space Shuttle Columbia, Abu Ghraib, Baghdad suicide bombers, Guantanamo, a train wreck economy and now Mumbai. It’s getting so that reading the newspapers, a once daily joy, has become something to be dreaded for those of us steadfast enough to still read the -- and here’s another bummer -- the rapidly disappearing daily newspaper.

But I’m not going to give into pessimistic impulses. No, I’m feeling strangely optimistic that we’ve hit bottom and me and you are going to begin embarking on an exciting rebound. So in advance of all those grim 2008 year-in-review stories with which we’re all about to be inundated, here’s some of the really great things that sparkle among the news rubble from the past eight years.


• Y2K turned out to be a really swell party. It’s easy to forget the chaos and hysteria many experts predicted for that pivotal day. Planes were going to fall from the sky. Banks were going to misplace our savings. Missiles would inadvertently launch. I didn’t buy it then and Val and I, childless at the time, enjoyed a wonderful citywide party in downtown Pittsburgh and got to laugh at all the doomsayers buried in their bunkers.

• Cool numeric dates are happening with a fun frequency. I just spent an afternoon with an old friend and his wife who eloped on 01-02-03 so they’d never forget their anniversary. Neither will I. I don’t think we’ve ever reached any consensus on whether we’re going to call this decade “The Aughts,” “The Zero’s,” or “The Ohs,” (may I suggest “The Oh S---ts!”), but I enjoy these quirky dates. Next up, 07-08-09.

• The Quecreek Mine Rescue answered many prayers. That happened about an hour from my home and I was summoned to do some reporting on it. I’ll never forget the surprise I felt when I noticed tears running down my cheeks when Pennsylvania Gov. Mark Schweiker announced all nine miners were alive. I interviewed one of the survivors and asked the routine question of what he thought about during the long hopeless hours. He said, “I thought if I ever get out of here alive I’m going to spend the next six months getting stoned immaculate.” Two weeks after being rescued, he was well on his way.

• The iPod came out in 2001. I love the fact that I can carry the entirety of my 7,500-song music library in my pocket. I plug it into my car or my home or office stereo (I don’t use earbuds, preferring to remain engaged to the world around me) and just thrill to its flexibility. Now I wish Apple would move on to more substantial innovations. Like Thomas Friedman says, “I want my iCar.”

• Warren Buffett announced he’s giving away his entire $40 billion fortune to The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and other charitable endeavors. Sure, it’s doubtful I’ll see even a measly dime of it, but it’s a great gesture, one that I hope more and more well-off philanthropically follow. I’ve read that our goal in life should be to die the instant our last check bounces. It’s maybe the one thing Buffett and I now have in common.

• The New England Patriots won big games and Super Bowls when their team and their fans were fresh and deserving and are losing them now that they’ve become either obnoxious, cheaters or both.

• My weasley U.S. Senator Rick Santorum lost and Barack Obama didn’t. I don’t think it’s possible to underestimate the historical significance of the first black man being elected president. I only hope it portends good things for all of us.

• O.J. Simpson got convicted of doing something substantial and the authorities still don’t have a clue on the whereabouts of D.B. Cooper.

• Environmental awareness became a major topic at both kitchen tables and boardrooms around America. It doesn’t matter if it causes global warming or not. We can all do better.

• Tiger Woods continues to amaze, winning with grace and style.

• A list of petty lowbrow things that have improved: baseball parks, waterparks, satellite radio, free WiFi, rollercoasters, HDTV, and many quality TV shows (24, Lost, The Sopranos and, yes, Survivor) I still find entertaining.

• None of the reliable music giants have stumbled in the past eight years. There’s been some great music and performances from The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen. And underappreciated geniuses like Van Morrison and Mark Knopfler just keep getting better and better. Honorable mention to Steve Earle, The Dixie Chicks, Todd Snider and Quinn Fallon.

• Amtrak is thriving. I’m a train nut and take it to New York City from Latrobe at least once a year. The country is better off if more people try the trains because there’s no such thing as train rage. I remember in the really dark days when my train was about six hours late. I boarded expecting anarchy. Instead, all was festive. I asked my seatmate why no one was angry. He said, “Well, everyone’s upset when they get on, but then they find out they’re giving away free chicken up front. Free chicken!” I jumped up and got some. It was pretty tasty.

• No new U.S. terror attacks since 9/11. I remember waking up on 9/12 and wondering if the Empire State Building would still be standing. Was it the war in Iraq? The Patriot Act? Torture at Guantanamo? I’m loath to credit any of those overreactions and I don’t think there’s any simple explanation. But it’s been unabashedly good news that we’re all still too nervous to acknowledge.

• I can’t remember the specifics, but I seem to recall a beached whale or two being saved.

Finding good news isn’t easy. I wish my list had more euphoric events like the Quecreek Mine Rescue, but I blame the times more than my desultory research.

But I’ll welcome any additions to the good news from the bad decade.

And let’s hope for one and all the good news isn’t quite so scarce in the next decade.

I'm an America-hating liberal

I’ve been reluctant to write about the election results, but it’s so momentous I just can’t help myself. Of course, I’ll leave the heavy lifting to deeper thinkers and get right down to business with the points the paid pundits always overlook.

• I’ve been getting to see what I looked like eight years ago after George W. Bush was elected. A Republican bar buddy of mine was moaning that he was convinced the world was about to end. I tried to console him by saying, “Look, I know just how you feel. In 2000, I was sitting right where you are and telling everyone who’d listen that the election of George W. Bush would result in financial ruin, a divided nation and that the only good thing about him as president was at least he'd be too stupid to instigate some costly overseas folly that would unnecessarily cause bloodshed and near catastrophic loss of national prestige.” Then I laughed maniacally.

• To me the most fascinating person to emerge from the election wasn’t Sarah Palin, but her soon-to-be son-in-law, 18-year-old Levi Johnson. He’s soon to become a father and part of one of what will be the second most scrutinized family in the Northern Hemisphere. My biggest concern when I was 18 was crafting a fake ID that might pass as legit in a dimly lit bar. I’m predicting he’ll be the breakout star of the Palin reality show I bet is already being discussed.

• I can admit I wasn’t really mature enough to be a married father until I was 40. By that time I’d been married for seven years and had been a father for three.

• At least twice a week, my wife still gives me looks I decode as meaning, “When the hell are you ever going to grow up?” It’s bound to happen one of these days.

• I was talking music with some old buddies last spring and we were all discussing our favorites. Names like Dylan, The Stones, Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams, The Replacements and Todd Snider were mentioned. All cool. Then one of the guys started gushing about the band America, the 70s hitmakers of “Horse with No Name,” and others too vapid and tedious to recall. We all looked at him like he was insane. Ever since then, every time I hear Rev. Jeremiah Wright preaching the sermon that includes the rant, “Goddamn America!” I wonder if he’s referring to that offensively mainstream pop band. I believe there’s a chance he is and that would really help put the whole thing in a new perspective.

• I wonder if there’s any YouTube tapes of Rev. Wright saying things like, “and goddamn Gordon Lightfoot, too!”

• I was a big Bill Clinton fan because when he spoke he really made me believe in him. The difference with Obama and just about everyone else I’ve ever heard is that he makes me believe in us. He makes me believe we’re capable of doing great things. I think he’s wrong about me, but I’m good company when the rest of you come into the bar to tell me about the great things you’ve done and that’s fine with me.

• George Bush is, maybe for the first time, looking positively presidential in the gracious way he’s recognizing the historic portent of the Obama election and how he’s committed to ensuring a seamless transition. It figures, the only time I’d have anything good to say about Bush is the way he’s leaving office. Still, every time I hear his approval rating is around 24, I have to wonder if it’s 24 percent or just 24 people.

• McCain’s concession speech was moving, but am I the only guy who finds it jarring to hear him get weepy about what a fine gentleman Obama is and what a splendid president he’ll make after he’s spent the past six months telling us he’s a dangerous America-hating Marxist whose only government experience comes in building bombs to toss at the Pentagon?

• The funniest line I heard through the whole campaign was from a black woman who was being interviewed on CNN who said the best thing wasn’t just that a black man was going to be president, but that he had this whole beautiful, intact family as role models. “We haven’t had a whole, intact black family to look up to since The Huxtables and they weren’t even real.” She wasn’t trying to be funny.

• My plumber’s a nice, quiet guy. He comes in, we exchange pleasantries, he fixes the leaks and then hands me a bill that always leaves me wondering if it isn’t too late for me to go to plumbing school. But if he ever comes in and starts talking about things like the capital gains tax or NAFTA, I’m going to snatch a wrench from his belt and beat the ever living daylights out of him.

• The Republicans can have Joe the Plumber, I’m glad we have Bruce the Strummer. Springsteen’s never done anything in his life that’s made me anything but busting with pride to be an American fan of his. It’s a lucky privilege for all of us to be on the planet at the same time he’s up and about.

• I don’t care if the Republicans spend the next 40 years wandering lost in the wilderness, and if they think the country’s going to rally around them based on the combined wisdoms of Joe the Plumber and Sarah Palin that’s exactly where they’re going to wind up.

• “. . . and goddamn Captain & Tennille!”