How Bruce's Harmonica Came to Live at Our House
Here's my story (and I'm sticking to it):
Cleveland 8-14-2002
Agent 008 and I had successfully occupied two positions in the first row of seats, stage right, next to Clarence and Danny. Side view, yeah, but you couldn't be any closer to the stage, unless you were lucky enough to be in the front of the pit.
Of course, Agent 008 was having a rocking good time.
Towards the end of "Promised Land," Bruce was jamming on the harmonica solo stage right, just in front of us ... he's hamming it up BIG TIME for my little dude, and the little dude is giving it all back, times ten. Agent 008 gives Bruce a huge thumbs up.
Bruce looks me in the eye, points at my son, and with a bigass grin, whips the harmonica at *me*.
It was a low throw, and I missed it. Hey, I'm no freakin' Derek Jeter.
For a slow-motion moment, WE COULDN'T FIND THE HARMONICA.
Folks were AWESOME, scurrying to locate the harp. The roadies were crawling over the cases, and the fans in the front of the section were looking all over the place--then I glanced back underneath the seat behind me.
And there it was. Like a shiny sardine--all purple, green, and blue--glinting in the stage light.
I picked up the sardine and looked at it for the briefest, sweetest of moments. Thoughts ran through my head ... this thing has been sitting on the floor of the Gund Center in Cleveland, Ohio. Bruce has just blown everything in his upper respiratory system through it. There were germs all over the place. If I give this to the kid, he's gunna put it right to his mouth ...
And then I thought, "ah the heck with it."
I dutifully handed the harp over to the boy. The crowd went wild.
Agent 008 got high fives and back slaps for the rest of the night. He wasn't too crazy about having his hair tossled by women he didn't know (a show of affection reserved only for precious few family members), but all in all, he handled himself like a champ. At least he didn't get his cheeks pinched with the vice grip of death (like my relatives used to do to me).
A guy in the row next to us asked my son's age, and when I told him that my son is 8, he said, "whoa, that's cool." "Yeah," I replied with a wink, "he was only 6 when he saw Bruce at the Garden."
Another guy offered me $100 for the harmonica. With a straight face (at least I thought it was straight), I said, "add four zeros to that and I might think about it. I gotta have enough to retire on."
As we're walking out (on an ultimate high) from the Gund Center to the hotel, the boy immediately has to phone home. He blows a wild tune for mom into the cell, and teases "guess what I got, Mom!"
Agent 008 and I drove close to 1000 miles round trip in the hot rod (from the dry parched swamps of joisey) for the show, and man, are we glad we did.
M'boy played (or simply clutched--even when he fell asleep) the harmonica all the way home.
And I'm talking about SEVEN AND A HALF HOURS at high speed (and with the top down). :)
Needless to say, we still have the harmonica.
And it ain't behind glass or in a case. (It's a Hohner Marine Band "G". Haven't found a Promised Land harmonica tab yet ...)
Posted by geekbooks at December 16, 2003 02:33 PM
