You do not sit down at a rock concert. Especially not when you share the room with a living legend. Everybody else around me in the section closest to the stage seemed to disagree.
I feel sorry for the lady behind me. I really do. The way I was dancing, flailing my arms in the air and clapping without break, I probably have to apologize to those sitting next to her as well.
But I hope they will understand eventually. And, in retrospect, I thank them for sitting so still you could have mistaken them for chairs.
Because when he came out to the left podium to sing and greet fans right by him, he looked up. The instant he noticed me, the only standing, dancing, singing Springsteenian in a seated section, his arms, like mine, flew up into the air.
In all its charming glory, he sent me a smile wider than the gap between us. And for five precious seconds I danced with Bruce Springsteen.