Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Springsteen


The Super Bowl, the Grand Final of the American Football season, was played in Tampa this year. Bruce Springsteen, who, in real life, isn't very springy at all, was the half-time entertainment. And how do I know he needs some boing in his shocks, you ask....

Well, wonder of wonders, our limo service somehow ended up with the contract to transport Bruce, Bruce's family, most of the band, the band's families, the management and all their hangers-on around for the week prior to the game. For whatever reason, the whole smash was accommodated not in Tampa, but in our sleepy hollow an hour south. We do have one really swish hotel, so that probably did the trick.

So, by going to and from three rehearsal sessions, the media interviews, making various morning McDonald's runs, fulfilling odd personal grooming requests and, oh, the game day, we merry limo drivers saw the insides of big time rock'n'roll.

As you might suspect, there was nothing glamorous about the job at all. It was just hard work. My take is that the entertainment business is just like McDonalds; it might be tasty to eat, but you don't want to know how it's made.

And no, I don't want fries with that.

4 comments:

savannah said...

discreet, sugar...well done! ;) xoxo

enigma said...

Hellooooooo Wombie* waves and cuddles*
and to you to, savvannah dear.

Don said...

You came back! Glad to see you.

I'll bet dealing with Springsteen and all was difficult; just dealing with the traffic around the Super Bowl would be difficult. And I'm glad to hear he isn't all that springy.

Wombat said...

Thanks, Sugar. There are many facets of the week about which I might not be so discreet. We'll see how the mood takes us.

*waves and cuddles, back, Enigma*

Hope you're going strong there downunder, m'dear. Don't let the bastards get you down.

Thanks Don. Nice of you to drop around. You're right, the traffic was kinda interesting to deal with, despite the fact that on three occasions we had a police escort. Stories of the brave and smart fellows of the Florida Highway Patrol might follow.

Actually, it is a relief that ol' Bruce is showing his age. (Except when on stage, apparently.) He is 62 or thereabouts, so a little stoop and a little slower step just makes him one of us, I guess.