My friend and I this past Saturday went to the Bruce Springsteen concert at the HP Pavilion in San Jose.  This was my first "full on" rock concert.   I went to a Steely Dan concert at the Shoreline Amphitreate in Mountain View last year, but sitting on the back lawn isn't the same thing as being down in the mosh pit 20 feet from the stage.   This was also my first broad exposure to Bruce Springsteen since the only song I'm familiar with was "Born In The USA" in 1984 when I was a teenage Reagan Democrat.

We got there three hours before the show started to get the pink wrist band for the mosh pit.  The number on my wrist band was 666—an interesting number.  What made it more interesting after we got our green wrist bands and lined up to enter the building was two men standing on the sidewalk out in front, one wearing a sandwich board that proclaims "JESUS SAVES YOU FROM HELL" and another with a bullhorn reassuring us that we were all going to hell (but not because we were attending a rock concert).  The only thing that they managed to do was annoyed everyone in hearing range and prompted some people put in their ear plugs sooner.  After haranguing us for 20 minutes, they moved 30 feet down the sidewalk to annoy the people in line back there.  I seriously doubt security would nab these two if they stepped off of the sidewalk (protected speech) on to city property (trespassing).  The SJPD traffic officers were more interested in the taxi drivers who decide to stop wherever they please.   Once the doors were opened, it was an orderly mad rush to the mosh pit.

I wasn't there to just enjoy the music.  Being a writer, I was there to observe my surroundings and people . Never know when some of this will end up in a story or novel.

• My first impression of the HP Pavilion (previously known as the San Jose Arena and should've been named the Epicenter after a San Jose Mercury News poll) was that it's awfully small, and the interior layout doesn't seem to match the exterior layout.   I think the arena is an oval placed in the corners of a square, but I couldn't find a floor map at concierge desk to double check.  I expected the interior to look as impressive as the exterior for the $100 million USD that the city spent.  Of course, this was the same city council that dropped $500,000 USD on an Aztec snake god statue that looks like a giant pile of dog poop.
• I was intrigued to see a group of roadies climbed up rope ladders to get into the lighting framework over the stage to control the spotlights. You would think that those spotlights—like most of the others—could be controlled by computers on the floor.
• Women drinking alcohol lost all inhibitions when dancing, flirting and screaming.  One woman rubbed her butt against me for two minutes before she realized that her boyfriend went to the restroom.
• Whenever the lights went dark, someone lit up a joint and exhaling smoke that visibly lingered over the mosh pit.  I was sick with allergies the next day.
• The eeriest moment came when the lights went out and a thousand points of lit cellphones being waved back and forth.
• A pair of older couples cleared the floor around them when they started dancing with high kicks during the last song.
• Although I stood next to my friend for most of the concert, I found myself behind him four rows back at the end.
• When you been standing for five hours straight, it hurts to walk. Worst than having a swollen bladder after a three hour movie.

Bruce was had a great time singing, playing his guitars (just about every song required a different guitar) or harmonica, and taking requests from the audience.  The most memorable moment was when Bruce pulled up a guy from the audience who had the song title "Glory Days" written on his bald forehead with a permanent marker, and that song alone nearly blew the roof off the place.  Another moment was when Bruce pulled a sign from the audience that said, "Bruce, You're my real Dad!", and he admitted that he was here in these parts back in 1969.

(Come to think of it, *I* was born in 1969. Hmm... Nah... I could never grow a soul patch like his.)

This week I'll be seeing "Shine A Light" at the movie treater about the elders of rock and roll, The Rolling Stones.  It's amazing how these old rockers are still rocking on.