The stomach ache was worth it

I went to the Springsteen concert last night, and it was so awesome.

My little sister went with me because her husband felt bad. His loss. She is not even a big fan, and she couldn't answer the question What was the last concert you have been to? But she seemed to like it, too.

And we met two of my friends there. Me. Really. One was a big fan and it was great to see how excited she got when they played "Badlands." That was what she came to hear.

Speaking of hearing, my ears adjusted after the first two songs, and I could hear OK. I wore ear plugs and covered my ears sometimes to block out some of the noise. I wonder, though, what a concert sounds like to good ears?

Looking at the setlist, I should have recognized another song; No. 2 was "No Surrender," which I know well.

The seats were almost like a mini-suite without the plush chairs and bar but with plenty of security and a drunk guy or two.

We had four seats together and on one side was the aisle, and on the other was a suite. No seats behind us although people tended to stand behind us, including a group of cops who stopped in to watch for a while. "Don't you feel secure," one asked. Later, a tipsy fellow insisted I use his binoculars.

On the way home my sister said she was going to write a "Dear Mr. Namath" letter except to Bruce. You know, like the Brady Bunch. "Dear Mr. Springsteen, my brother Matty is very, very sick ..."