Nothing happens by accident..

Prologue:
This post was wrote on 11/07/2013 ....
I think that today 11/11/2013.. is the right day to publish it.
Thanks to Donna ( @girltrueheart ) for translation and friendship support.


I begin with this belief: Nothing happens by accident.

Even if it seems there is no logical thread, well, if you look closely enough, you will find the thread. Based on this belief, I will share MY concert experience in Rome, at Capannelle Hippodrome on July 11, 2013.
I have seen many Springsteen concerts (not too many, not so often), and usually right after, I uttered the fateful words: "This show was the most beautiful of all."
I must say I was wrong from time to time. In my heart I knew that it was not "the most..." but I had to find a justification, a reason, not to fall into depression because I was afraid to feel "Oh no...I'm not as excited as I used to be." In the end, that is my (and maybe our) fear: There will come a day when, for whatever reason, I will no longer feel that excitement.
When this happens in life, it is like you find yourself in a movie scene where the character is completely surrounded by an emptiness, a white or black void. Without visual cues, touch, smells, tastes, sounds...no senses, nothing. And you feel lost and you think, "Now what? What do I do now?"
I carried this fear at the beginning of this tour. After reading some reviews, I didn't know what to do or what not to do. Should I be like one of my friends who refuses to read anything, including setlists of course, up to the first concert I attend, so as not to be influenced?
Everything and anything was written about Padua and Milan and more and more.
Padua was good for me, but not a show for me to return home ride high on a flying carpet. Milan is close, 2nd or 3rd with Rome, although maybe it was because I had more beer. Milan was pure joy, pure adrenaline; Milan was "out of competition."

"A prodigy in a position for three hours of heavy conduction to the point of departure, the primordial push that too often we are committed to bury under tons of useless things: to be human." (Dario Costa for Barracuda Tour)
Then comes Rome, a month and a week later, and yes, you expect something "as good as" but nothing can compare to what it really was.

I arrived in Rome while recovering from one of those days that you just mark on your calendar as a really bad day, and just like in Milan, I wanted to forget the agony. I tried to forget the pain with 9 medium beers, but they did not have an effect.
The dear friends, the beer, the carbonara, the laughter, the bracelets, the legality issues, and all the rest of it. We spent almost all day together just to talk, drink and eat a full galley kitchen of food left by the "Taliban Patrol" in the lottery queue in the early hours of the morning.

In the afternoon, a little bird's song signals to me that it is safe, reliable, to check online for some news. I do not believe it but, what the fuck, I go on Twitter. I see that Nils said "we are preparing a surprise for ROMA, will be an epic show."
Eh... a little thought in my mind: "I begin to believe it...but no...it isn't true." I am afraid to hope.

Now at the concert, we're on Clarence's side, sheltered, but great location. I can see the band more or less from that position (left or right sides), there is space to spare, a chance to dance, sing, go and get yet another beer without any worries. I feel I already know the line-up.

This particular show starts and we understand immediately that this will not be a concert like most others. (Which, by the way, is another fucking sentence that we always say and cannot possibly always mean.)

Everything begins smoothly enough: Roulette, Lucky Town (with an insane solo at the end).

The KITTY's marathon show to the various polemical trombones (And there are those who say that Bruce is finished with the Steel Mill!) that the band ..is always and remain the best R&R band all over the world!!

Then Incident
then Rosie...
then...

Flashback to 26 June--1 July 2000. Flashback to MSG NYC.

My discovery of Bruce was still new. Once I heard the last track of Springsteen's second album, I was so taken by it that I listened to it on a constant loop.
It was the only other song that stood out for me besides the Winx, Zecchino, Gormiti and cartoons soongs in general.
New York City Serenade was the only song that in these last 13 years always found a place within me.
Always
Yet here at the end, it is just a song and nothing more, a song written 40 years ago, give or take a month.
How many stories there have been!
A few notes and a few words put there to make a common cause amongst us all.

But then came the violins and I see the past 13 years of MY life...one by one.
They flow by while he's singing.
Pass one after the other and marked by many moments and many concerts, each of which could have been the right one to remember ........while he's singing.
The memories fluctuate and materialize in my head....how many times I have sung, hinted at, longed for, all............ while he is singing.
I will melt ...........while he's singing.

All around me, approximately 30,000 people have expressions that Dr. Lightman (LIE TO ME tv series) might go crazy.

I see them at times. A flood is sweeping through me for 8 minutes (Can you feel the spirit?), but only until the last spectacular, simple, 45 seconds. When there remains only the violins and that little piano riff that repeats ad libitum three notes.
Sounds like the three whistles of a referee at the and of a game.

The end.

Game over.
Nothing ever happens by accident.
For me, that's enough.
Hard times come, hard times go.