I discovered Bruce Springsteen in the ’80s when I was going through my second twenties.  Recently divorced, seeing someone new, falling in love, letting my hair grow, discovering it had a lot of red in it. Driving to Canada for a romantic visit to Old Quebec and Montreal.  It was an unreal time and gone much too soon.

Fast forward to 2017, and I’m listening to Bruce’s autobiography.  His was a hardscrabble life.  Born to relative poverty, Mr. Springsteen really paid his dues big time, avoiding drugs and alcohol when many of his comrades gave in to one or both.  He is, in short, a survivor whose ability to focus on his love of music and his desire to share that love with others enabled him to go on when others were dropping by the wayside.

Here’s to you, Bruce.