BRUUUUUCE!

Show a little faith

There's magic in the night

I'll never forget where I was on the evening of Dec. 12, 1975.

Whatever you may have been doing on that Friday night, I was having a better time. I guarantee it.

You see, I saw Bruce Springsteen in concert for the first time.

I was a junior in college, preparing sort of diligently that week for final exams. By Thursday, Dec. 11, I had only one task left for the term, albeit a weighty one: a 20-page paper for my Shakespeare class. My heart was really not in it. I had procrastinated all fall long. So, I had to pull an all-nighter. I managed to scribble something semi-coherent during the wee hours, and handed in the essay just in time for my 10 o'clock class.

I looked forward to crashing for the rest of the day, and the rest of the weekend, and then the rest of my life.

Minutes after I placed my head on the pillow in my dorm room, Rich, Alan and Mitchell, three of my best pals on campus, noisily banged on the door, rousing me. I was very annoyed that they were bothering me when I could barely keep my eyes open.

"WE'RE SEEING BRUCE! TONIGHT!," they shouted in ecstasy, the flow of words hitting me like a fire hose. "WE HAVE TICKETS! YOU HAVE TO COME WITH US!"

Now, I didn't have to ask twice who this "Bruce" was. It had to be Springsteen himself. We had worn out our copies of his new album, "Born to Run." He was EVERYWHERE that fall. Somehow, the guy, whose first two albums had sold so poorly that people all over the FM radio dial were predicting that Columbia Records was poised to cut him loose if "Born to Run" didn't break through. His mug even appeared on the covers of Time and Newsweek that autumn in the same week.

The concert was magnificent. It was one of those personal glory days that college buddies always remember and gush about for decades. Bruce and his band were electrifying in the compact confines of the Post Dome at C.W. Post College in Greenvale, New York.

We were sitting in the eighth row. I can remember details as if the concert took place only yesterday. Bruce opened with "Thunder Road," accompanied only by piano player Roy Bittan. Next, the band came in stage for a rocking "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out." The hits just kept on coming.

The highlight came during the encore when they played a rousing version of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." It's the same rendition that you hear on the radio every December during the holiday season.

It was a concert that I will never forget.

Call it a shining example of the power of Bruce Springsteen.

I reckon that you, too, have a special Springsteen-related memory. Bruce burst on the scene with the release of his first album, "Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.," in January 1973.

That's right. Bruce has occupied our collective consciousness for half a century. I remember every one of his concerts that I've attended. I know rational, serious, professional people who have followed Bruce around on tour, from town to town. So I won't dare to stick my chest out about the dozens of shows I've seen.

(Right now, there is someone reading this piece in Chicago or Atlanta or L.A. or Amsterdam and sneering, "DOZENS, YOU SAY? GIVE ME A BREAK, JON. I'VE SEEN HUNDREDS OF BRUCE'S SHOWS!")

I remember the concert on May 23, 1999, at Earls Court in London. A pal of mine had gotten married the day before in Paris and the week before that I had gone on a cycling trip in Provence, France. I was wiped out from the traveling and partying and looking forward to heading home to New York from Paris. But come on! When another friend invited me to see Bruce and the band in London, I couldn't turn it down.

When Madison Square Garden announced that there would be 10 Springsteen concerts there in June and July, I promptly went to the bank and withdrew enough money to purchase tickets for six shows. (Yes, life was much simpler in those days. Take that, Taylor Swift fans!)

I believe that Bruce's greatest accomplishment in the half-century that he has been on the national scene is his unique ability to remain relevant.

Sure, the Rolling Stones and the Who have been around for even more time than Bruce, and they're still playing shows all over the world. But is either of those bands still meaningful, except as a museum piece on stage? Not so much.

But Springsteen has managed the difficult feat of remaining a special presence in our lives throughout. He has morphed from rock God to icon to what he is now: a hero. (Granted, many of his fans are furious that they had to shell out hundreds or even thousands of dollars to see Bruce play on his current worldwide tour.)

Bruce stands for decency, grace, kindness, fun and altruism. He occupies that rare air of stardom that, today, perhaps only Tom Hanks can live in. There is the telling slice of life that shortly after terrorists attacked the World Trade Center across the Hudson River on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, an unidentified man spotted Bruce in Sea Bright, New Jersey, and called out, "Bruce, we need you."

Has anyone ever said that about The 1975?

I'll go so far as to say that Springsteen's greatest accomplishment has been remaining true to his ideals. Fame hasn't gone to his head. Against all odds, he has remained a Jersey guy.

He has set a standard for niceness among celebrities. I've heard stories from neighbors of his in north Jersey that there was a time on Halloween when Bruce and his wife (and E Street band mate), singer Patti Scialfa, would not only hand out candy to trick or treaters, but give them a song at the same time.

I can attest to Springsteen's niceness. A few years ago, my sister and her husband were having dinner in the Broadway district of Manhattan when they looked around the restaurant. In a corner, two men were eating and talking intently.

"Oh my God," my sister exclaimed, "it's Bruuuuuce."

Now, you have to understand that my sister is fearless. She promptly marched over to Bruce's table and politely introduced herself and promptly gushed about how much his music meant to her.

Even though he was deep into a business dinner with his manager, Jon Landau, Bruce was cordial and friendly. He's a true gentleman and he has never forgotten the fans.

One night during his current European tour, he had dinner in Barcelona with Barack and Michelle Obama and Steven Spielberg. Pretty heady company. Bruce has come a long way since that night I saw him in concert in 1975.

And would anybody have been surprised if he broke bread the following night with the roadies?