Watched “Blinded by the Light” last night. Probably the film won’t be a candidate for any awards, but the story line of a young Pakistani teenager trying to find his way in an unfriendly small English town and Springsteen’s music — I’m a big Bruce fan to begin with — really resonated with me. It made me laugh, cry a bit, and, notwithstanding the very obvious differences between his younger years and mine, it took me back to my teen years when the combination of small town living, the many prohibitions of the Catholic Church, sudden loss of my mother, a father who drank too much, and a step mother who was a task master left me feeling out of joint and in a box. I didn’t have Bruce Springsteen’s songs and lyrics at that time to give voice and authenticity to my feelings and dreams, but I did have those early rock and rollers — Elvis, Chuck Berry, and others — who could shake rattle and roll and some hard scrabble, beer drinking friends who brought some light into my life.
60 plus years later, I would like to say that I have it all figured out and everything is good, but that would be One Big Fat Lie.