Forever Friends
Un week-end springsteeniano
La storia che segue e' lunga, e molto personale. Se pero'
siete curiosi di sapere com'e' che Bruce Springsteen in
costume da bagno ha cantato Backstreets per mia figlia, al
bordo di una esclusivissima piscina, allora buona lettura.
La rivista
TEMPI pubblica la
positiva recensione
che Lorenzo Albacete (fra le altre cose editorialista del
NY Times) ha dedicato a "The Life That You Save May Be Your Own
- An American Pilgrimage," di Paul Elie. E' la biografia
comparata di quattro scrittori cattolici americani:
Flannery O'Connor, Walker Percy, Dorothy Day e Thomas
Merton. It gets my attention mainly because I love
Flannery O'Connor, and I don't know that Walker Percy -
one of Springsteen's favorite writers
- was Catholic. I go buy this book on-line: it is June 23,
and when it comes to delivery options I realize it could
be an interesting book for Bruce, so I select 3-5 days
delivery and decide that if the book arrives before Milan
show I will try to give it to Springsteen.
Friday June 27 I have to interview Nils Lofgren. A
face-to-face interview has been declined, and it will be a
phoner. Nils - I'm told - is at 2-hours drive from Milan.
I guess he's in Cernobbio on the Como's Lake, at
Villa d'Este
Hotel, where I know Bruce is staying. Nils probably wants
to protect Springsteens' privacy. The phone number I
receive confirms Villa d'Este hypothesis.
In the afternoon a parcel arrives: it's Elie's book. I
start reading it immediately: the prologue, the first
chapter. It is about the American pilgrimage of those four
writers, a pilgrimage being defined as "a journey
undertaken in light of a story." How many points of
contact with Springsteen's music: his own journey is a
pilgrimage, and his art belongs to the root of that big
American tradition that includes F. O'Connor and the
others. I have to give him this book. I write a dedication
letter inside the book, where I thank Bruce and make
connections between his music and the book's themes.
I know the delivery will be very hard: Villa d'Este is
well known for its high security level and privacy
respect. It is almost impossible to get in. I take with me
wife and kids: at least if my plan fails we will have an
ice-cream while walking lake side. We arrive at Villa
d'Este: outside a dozen fans are waiting, a security guy
watches the entrance.
I'm pushing the stroller with my son Simone, 1 year old,
while my wife Rosa walks hand in hand with Chiara, 4 years
old. We get in as if we were guests, no problem at the
first security barrier, but at the second one the security
guy approaches us. I explain that I have a book to deliver
and in the meantime Simone, usually an unfriendly crying
baby, smiles and wave his hand. The security guy smiles
too: we're incredibly inside!
Villa d'Este is not a traditional hotel: it is a large
complex of mansions in a big garden, golf club, a main
building near an unique pool floating on the lake, and a
private boat park. We walk about half a mile to arrive at
the reception.
At the reception desk I ask for a post-it that I put on
the book's cover, I write "for Bruce Springsteen" and hand
the book to the receptionist. He looks at me in suspicion
and asks if we are guests. "No, I'm here just for the
book" - "Does *he* know about it?" - "Sure, that's why I'm
here"
We go out and I'm going toward the exit. I don't consider
looking for Springsteen: the complex is large, and I'm
already satisfied by the book delivery. Besides I can
easily imagine my wife complaining "won't we spend the
whole afternoon looking for Springsteen, right?"
Unexpectedly Rosa says: "it's such a wonderful place, why
don't we take a walk here?"
While we wander around we arrive at the lake floating
pool. Inside the main large pool there is a built-in
Jacuzzi, and Bruce is there, laughing out loud, talking to
what looks like a microphone, or probably a mobile phone
handed to him by two guys there in the pool. We sit down
and look around. On our left there are Nils and Roy with
their wives. Patti Scialfa is just a little more distant.
Chiara tries hard to recognize Bruce, but the real problem
is Simone: after ten minutes he starts crying out loud,
everybody looks at us, and I am very embarrassed.
I'm even more embarrassed by the idea of being recognized
by Nils, since I've met him in London few weeks before. He
might think I've used the phone number to get the address.
My wife walks Simone around (he's learning to walk) in
order to calm him. I wait for the right moment to approach
Bruce: it will be hard since it's relax time, family time
and I don't want to harass him. At the table near us a
boy, probably Bruce's son, sits down with a lady. On the
table Harry Potter's books, or maybe a Harry Potter's
game.
My mobile rings a couple of times: it's friends of mine
calling and I tell them where I am and what I'm doing. I
switch off the phone to avoid further calls and I suddenly
realize that Bruce is gone. My wife reaches me and asks me
why I haven't joined her: Patti and a friend of hers were
playing with my kids. Rosa doesn't speak English and I
could have easily got into a conversation with them. The
right moment has been wasted, and Bruce is gone.
Things get worse: Simone keeps on crying. In the meantime
Patti is eating with friends at a table not far from our
place. I ask what time is it: ten to six. I wait a little
longer, then I decide to try: since Patti played with my
kids I ask Chiara to give her a CD I had with me. The CD
is "I'm A Big Girl Now," the bootleg compilation of
outtakes, TV appearances, and rare b-sides, produced by
Cathy V., an American friend of mine. My daughter doesn't
want to go alone, and ask me to join her. We go.
We approach Patti and I tell her that my daughter has a
gift for her. Patti hugs Chiara, then the usual questions:
"what's your name?" "How old are you?" Then she takes the
CD. She stares at it, looks at me, then at the back cover
for the song list, and a beautiful smile appears on her
face. "This is incredible: I've recorded these songs when
I was 20." This is not completely true, anyway I avoid to
contradict her... "I don't have them anymore, how did you
get them?" - "The magic of Internet!" - I reply - "It's a
fan-project, a not-for-profit compilation done by a fan of
your" - "Wonderful!"
It's done! Patti is on cloud nine, and we didn't turn out
to be harassers. "I'm going to call my husband!," but the
guy that was eating with her replies that Bruce is quite
busy right now. "Tell Bruce to come here immediately! It's
very important!," and while the guy goes away to call
Bruce I think to myself that it's the same story
everywhere: wives rule. While waiting for Bruce I ask
Patti when her new album will be released. "It's done,
it's finished. It will be released next year when Bruce's
tour is over." I kindly ask if we can trust Springsteens
when it comes to release dates. She laughs and reply that
"yes! you can believe me on this! At least this time."
Bruce arrives in swimming trunks, with his typical
walking, and he appears to me as disappointed. He sits
down and Patti starts talking about the CD, commenting
songs one by one: "this one is the one that does
sha-la-la, this other one is the one that does li-li-li.
This one has been written in that session, you remember
it? This one has been recorded in that studio, etc." Bruce
is not excited, asks for a hamburger that he will eat
while he obliges to listen to Patti. I introduce myself in
the conversation telling her there is also a second
volume, "Some Things Baby", and if she is interested I could send her a copy.
"Absolutely, please" and talking to a red headed girl she
says: "give him the address." I have paper but I haven't a
pen, so the girl goes away looking for a pen (that night
at home I will realize I had four - F O U R - sharpie pens
with me...)
Two kids approach Bruce for autographs, and he takes the
pen that just arrived. Bruce has some problem with the
spelling of the name Letizia and I help him. The red
headed girl turns out to be Kelly K., Patti's assistant,
and she writes the address on my notebook. I was expecting
a Shore Fire Media address, or maybe a Jon Landau
Management address... or even a Sony New York address...
this is not the case, the address is that one: Rumson, NJ.
Kelly writes down her email address too and says to me:
"send the CD to Patti. Anything you need, just ask me."
WOW! Then she asks me if I want something signed. "Yes, I
would be pleased! Let me get it."
I reach into my bag. I have the DVD special edition of The
Rising, the limited edition CD single "Live and Rare,"
Nils' complete discography, the last album by Soozie
Tyrell, the last one by Clarence Clemons, and... my copy
of the book SONGS. I pick up SONGS already enjoying what
is going to happen. I hand the book to Patti and she hands
it to Bruce. I stop her saying that I only want Patti's
signature. Bruce is puzzled, looks at me with a priceless
face, and hands the book back to Patti. She is also
surprised, but the trick is soon revealed: the book
already has a wonderful dedication by Bruce on the first
page, while on the second there are all E-Street band
members' signatures but Patti's. We all laugh, and Patti
signs near the other E-Streeters, even if the white space
is limited, and doesn't exploit Bruce's page with its
large white space available.
Time to go. Chiara has been grabbing my leg all along.
Rosa has been with Simone, but she was able to set up a
kind of gesture conversation with Patti. Patti explained
to Rosa she has three kids, and Rosa points to Kelly as if
she was one of the kids. Kelly and Patti laugh out loud
while Patti in Italian says "no, little, little kids." All
in all Bruce up to now hasn't been that much talkative:
maybe he's not really disappointed, but surely he is not
forthcoming. I try to take time telling them that tomorrow
we will be at the show, and Chiara will be with us. I
propose to tell a story about Chiara.
Every Thursday night my wife goes out with her friends and
I stay home with the kids. When the Live In NYC DVD was
released, I experienced its powerful effect on Chiara (at
the time 2 and a half years old). One of those Thursday,
we had already seen the DVD a couple of times, I was going
to put on the latest Neil Young DVD, introducing Neil as
Bruce's friend. While I was handling the disc, all of a
sudden Chiara asks: "does he play 'hiding on the
backstreets'?" As you can imagine Neil Young was
immediately archived and the third showing of
Springsteen's Live ruled that night. As a father I was
very proud of Chiara's musical taste (she doesn't speak
English, and - I swore - she's exposed to many different
artists, not only Bruce)
While I'm telling this story, Bruce starts singing without
waiting for the end. There he was, in his seat, in
swimming trunks, with his hand toward Chiara. Chiara's
arms hold tight to my right leg: "Hiding on the
Backstreets... Hiding on the Backstreets..." Up to now
I've been relatively calm and relaxed. I haven't been
overcome by my emotions, as the previous times I've met
Bruce. There has been time enough to familiarize with the
Springsteens being there at the swimming pool, Patti
playing with my kids, talking with Patti, the CD, Bruce's
arrival, the autographs. The intensity has been increasing
gradually. But Bruce singing Backstreets, here, now, to
Chiara... I can't help but thinking "it's a dream... it's
so surreal it cannot be true... it's not possible" trying
in vain to focus on Bruce's voice. It looked like
eternity... finally I get to listen to Bruce, just in time
for the final, sweet and intense, "we swore forever
friends," sang with an incredible voice, as a whisper,
with that hand toward Chiara (yes *that* hand, the one you
see in the Live in NYC), with such a tenderness for Chiara
that I was speechless, and still I have goose bumps.
Once again: time to go. Oh well... it's so many years I
long for a photo with Bruce... but in swimming trunks he
isn't going to agree.I try with a shy "I guess it's not
the right time to have a photo together" Bruce is nodding
his head as to confirm it is not the right time, but Patti
rules: "you must have a picture with his daughter at
least." Bruce calls Chiara: "C'mon baby, c'mon," but
Chiara is stone-like grabbing my leg. Patti insists: "you
scare her. You should have a picture with her father, and
she will relax." Bruce stands up, reaches us, crouches to
be as high as Chiara, which sits on my leg, between Bruce
and me.
I hand the camera to Rosa, and she sits Simone on a chair.
With my best smile I tell Rosa: "if you fail this photo
I'm going to ask for divorce." I see her scrambling around
with the camera. It takes so long I have to say to Bruce
something like: "she knows that if she fails this photo I
might get upset." First click. "A second one please" I
suggest, quite worried about the first one. Patti steps in
asking me if I want her to take the picture, so that Rosa
could join us. Without thinking about it I reply that I
would prefer her to take care of Simone: I'm worried he
could fall off the chair. Second click. The pictures will
not turn out that good, anyway they are a nice souvenir
and at least it is clear it's me, Chiara, and Bruce.
My wife will ask me later if I told Patti to take care of
Simone. "Yes. Why do you ask this?" - "Just because she
has been very kind: she has wrapped him with her arms
while he was seated, then since he was still uncomfortable
she took him in her arms and played with him." I missed
this part completely. I've asked Patti Scialfa to baby-sit
Simone: unreal.
Ok, now is really time to go. We shake hands, hugs and
kisses for the kids, promises ("I will send you the CD"),
and when it's my turn with Bruce I tell him about the book
at the reception for him. He thanks me, but he's clearly
not that much interested. I add it's about Flannery
O'Connor and Walker Percy, and then he turns to me quite
surprised: "Really?" - "Sure! It's in English, it's a new
book." This time he really thanks me.
While going out I ask what time is it: 7PM. As strange as
it can be, to the first friends asking about this story I
reply we've been with Bruce and Patti about 20 minutes: I
need my wife to make me realize it's been 40-50 minutes.
We swore: forever friends.
Friday night I've organized a dinner with friends from all
over the world: I'm very late, I know someone will be
already at the restaurant waiting. Just to add to my being
late Chiara wants to join me and Leo: we're going out
without her since she is supposed to go to bed early, in
order to stand the show the next day. The reason she wants
to join us: she thinks we're going out for dinner with the
Springsteens. I smile... as if we were friends with Bruce
and Patti... The dinner turned out to be crowded, some
people showed up at the last minute. It's very hot, but it
seems almost everybody is having a good time. We sing
until 1AM, and there is even time for an acoustic
Rosalita. Someone comments: "let's hope for a better
version tomorrow!"
The next day I try to finalize Soozie Tyrell's interview
with no luck. It must be written somewhere that I won't do
it: I had to ask for rescheduling the interview from
Dublin to Milan, this time I don't get a timely
confirmation, because PC and mobile phone fail at the
wrong moment. Leo and I spend the whole day looking for
cables we need to set up our exciting experiment: record
the show from the IEM transmissions. It will turn out to
be a complete failure: late that night, back from the
show, very tired, Leo and I will spend our last energies
listening to the tapes looking for something good: it's
all crap. The only consolation is to think about a friend
I've never met sending me more than $3000 in receivers:
"the trust is deep" he wrote. We swore: forever friends.
It's Saturday afternoon: with Rosa, Chiara and a few
friends we head down to the show, at the San Siro Stadium.
A journalist and a photographer approach us for pictures
and a mini-interview. They are from Repubblica, one of the
main Italian newspapers. At the end of the interview I
add: "we spent one hour yesterday with the Springsteens in
a very exclusive swimming pool, but don't write about it
since nobody would believe us." The next day
our picture
is in the newspaper: talk about the chances of meeting the
Springsteens and then the next day to have your picture
and interview in a newspaper (no mention of the swimming
pool)... good karma is flowing around us. And hundreds of
phone calls on the arrival for my mobile...
As for the show, it has been the best ever for me (many
pictures here). I cannot
judge in a objective way, but in a subjective way for me
it has been the best ever. It has probably been the show
I've watched less, since all my attention was for Chiara:
she danced, sang, clapped until the end. We had reserved
seats, where it wasn't raining as hard as on the floor.
Anyway my daughter was always pushing me to the front of
the balcony, where it was raining harder, and she wasn't
concerned at all about her mother being seated behind (and
quite silent). Chiara was asking for our friends: "where
is Maria Claudia?" - "She is on the floor, in the front
stage" - "Dad, why don't we join her? Why are we so far
from the stage?" On Empty Sky Chiara asks me: "why is this
song so sad? Why is Bruce so sad?" - "Because it talks
about a husband suffering the loss of his wife" - "Oh, I
understand. This is why he's sad and wants to sing it with
Patti." About Waiting On A Sunny Day: "I think this is my
favorite one along with 'hiding on the backstreets'."
There are plenty of friends around us: Tiziana, Davide,
Walter, Sue, Linda, Leo, Frank, many parents of our
friends included. Paolo and his family. I also introduce
Chiara to a bald guy, with a Live 75-85 parody t-shirt
with Duffy Duck instead of Bruce. He's well known among
Italian Springsteen fan and I tell Chiara: "he is a mean
guy: every time I invite him for dinner he refuses. He
doesn't want to be a friend of ours." Chiara immediately
replies: "stop inviting him." Then later she says: "maybe
he's just too shy to accept your invitation."
During My City Of Ruins for the first time Chiara asks
when we'll get back home. Two minutes later Dancing In The
Dark sees her dancing very excited. Rosa finally joins us,
and we all dance together. It's Rosalita time. All of a
sudden Chiara stops and says to me: "I'm going to call Leo
to join us dancing." I know the show is going to end, and
I watch her naively stepping up. She's going to call her
friend Leo. We swore: forever friends.
We are going out very slowly. There is time enough to say
hi to everybody. Unexpectedly Linda hugs me, as Mary-Ellen
the night before: I've exchanged a couple of emails with
them before, and I've met them yesterday night for the
first time. It is the moment I realize that Springsteen
music has really built a community of trust and love.
A sandwich on the way out (half for me, half for Chiara)
and we walk to our car. My daughter still has questions:
"Dad, why didn't Bruce played 'hiding on the
backstreets'?" I ponder the answer.... then reply:
"Because he already played that one yesterday for you" -
"Oh, I got it!" Later on she starts complaining that she's
tired, that her shoes are soaked, and she announce she's
going to cry. I take her in my arms. She says: "you're a
really good dad, I don't want to lose you, for a very long
time."
The next day I drive Leo to the airport: he's leaving.
That evening we get back to Villa d'Este: Kelly wrote me
Bruce hasn't received the book, "could you forward it
home, please?" The Springsteens are gone, but this time we
cannot get in: Rosa, Simone and two friends of ours have
to wait outside. I am the only one to get in, but I take
Chiara with me. We arrive at the swimming pool and Chiara
asks: "Are Bruce and Patti back home in America?" - "Yes,
they are" - "They flew back with Leo, all together,
right?" I smile... we swore: forever friends.
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