August• 2017 | 9.
another time! Not today!” We tried to
reassure him, “Just give it a try,” but he
was insistent. I started to consider
who else might go in his place.
Tamsin was the one who convinced
me to give Jack a shot. “Let’s just get
him close to the stadium, and if he
doesn’t get upset, we’ll just keep
going. It’s his favourite thing in the
world. We’ve got to try.”
We set up plans for our inevitable
bove: Bruce Springsteen and Nils Lofgren
left) on stage in Melbourne; (left) the
uthor with his son, Jack, before the concertilure. My brother Ned offered to wait
utside AAMI Park. The plan was that
Jack was upset, I’d run him out, and
ed would take him home.
Jack flinched at the first blast of
oise as we exited the train. I felt a
utter of concern. But Jack regrouped.
“Is that Bwuce?”
“No, that’s Jet,” I said.
“Is there clapping at Jet?”
“Yes, there will be clapping at Jet.”
“Will Bwuce be on soon?”
“Yes, after Jet.”
“And Steven Van Zandt?”
“Yes, he’ll be on guitar.”
“And Patti?”
“Yes, she’ll be there, too.”
“Bwuce’s wife, Patti?”
“Yes, she’s Bruce’s wife.”