Tramps Like Us, Baby We Were Born to Run

Hubs and I are back from the Springsteen concert, but the fangirl in me has yet to stop squealing long enough to let me compose a coherent thought. Lowlights and highlights it is.


  • Hubs and I have the uncanny ability to attract loud people who talk about nothing. In line, we were behind the loud people bantering over the weather. In our seats, we were in front of the loud person who described every single section of the arena that he had sat in. And finally, just before the show started, we were in front of the couple discussing when their next sex night would be. Lovely.
  • I-35 between Dallas and Waxahatchie. WTH, people? Can you not pave a road?


  • Staying at the Hyatt Summerfield Suites for the win. Walked three blocks to the American Airlines center.
  • The band. The only other time I’ve seen Springsteen was for the acoustic Devils & Dust tour, which, while amazing, had a very somber feel. This concert was more of a party. The energy was high and it was great to see Bruce and the band having so much fun.
  • Hearing “Jungleland,” “Born to Run,” and “Dancing in the Dark” live.
  • The man in full cowboy regalia that rocked out to every. single. song. He was having a great time and didn’t care who knew it.
  • Jon Bon Jovi joining Springsteen on stage for Glory Days. There are no words. None. Just gleeful fangirlish screaming.

More when the squealing in my head subsides.

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