I was a sophomore in high school when Bruce Springsteen released his epic album (yes, I said album) Born to Run. The title cut became an anthem for me and all the scamps I ran with in Owosso Michigan. We hung out in parks, tennis courts and dusty dirt roads with the hatchback of my 71 Chevy Vega open so we could crank up the classic tune when it came on the radio. We held up our fingers counting the ‘1,2, 3, 4..highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive.” For 4 minutes and 30 seconds we were transported to the street with Bruce and “strappin our hands across his engines”. The song changed me. The song infused in me a need to not only live but to live well…to run; to run in the direction of my dreams. I fell in love with Bruce that very moment. A cigarette was in my mouth and a beer was in my hand and Bruce was playing on the radio…it didn’t get better, it just didn’t. This story isn’t about Bruce this time, well in a way it is. It’s about his trusty sidekick, the man always on his right, his great friend, the brilliant sax player that provided the melodic background music to his velvet sound. This is about the Big Man, Clarence Clemons who passed away Saturday, June 18th. The Big Man was 69 years young, had undergone 2 knee replacements, a hip replacement and most recently suffered a stroke.
The first time I saw him up close was in 1984 during the Born in the U.S.A. tour. It was this glorious night when I rushed the stage at Kemper Arena in Kansas City (this was show 6 of 15 for me). I remember being so exhilarated just to be that close to the stage that graced the Boss and the E Street Band. Then I leaned my head way back and there he was, big as the world and black as the night. Beautiful. Within seconds my ears would also become engaged as I watched, transfixed, as he raised his shiny sax up pulling it out to the end of its neck cord as he gently parted his lips with the mouthpiece. His cheeks filled with air and out it came, the most beautiful sound I had heard up until that point in my life….it was the solo during Jungleland. I kept saying to myself, “please don’t end, please don’t end” and it didn’t. I remember thinking how cool it would be to walk down the aisle to that solo, or make love to it, or sit in a garden with it…pretty much anything. It was sweet. I can’t think of a better word. It was sweet and so was he. God rest your soul Clarence and thank you for being there for Bruce and the gang. Thank you for the music, the sweet, sweet music.
I took his death hard and was even a bit embarrassed at how deeply the roots of my sorrow grew. But then… someone posted this video…. and I remembered. Below is a rendition of the piece that made time stop at Kemper Arena in 84…if you’re not a Springsteen fan then at least fast forward to 4:18 in honor of the Big Man. If you are a Springsteen fan, then we are related somehow. Hit play, sit back, and breathe it in.
Namaste,
ER
