Monthly Archives: January 2017

No thanks, Bruce

The following is a re-worked piece I originally posted in 2009, when Bruce Springsteen came out publically in support of Barak Obama.

Then, as now, Springsteen, and a lot of other celebrities, made their party affiliation and discontent for the opposing party known in no uncertain terms.

Then, as now, I feel that I should make my disdain for such rhetoric known. I also want it known that the following is spread thick with sarcasm. I will also state that I am a fan of Springsteen’s music, NOT his (or anyone else’s) political stance.

Bruce Springsteen has come out publicly against supporting Donald Trump and if I am going to listen to anyone tell me who to support or not, politically, it’s going to be Springsteen.

Put aside for the moment that Trump was elected President by the same system that elected every previous president in recent memory. And, like every previous election, the losing party cries FOUL, whines endlessly and looks for ways to discredit the other.

As most of you know, I hold nearly all politicians in disdain, party loyalty not withstanding.  This election, like every previous election that I have participated in, I had to decide between two despicable people, whose negative marks far outweighed any good.

But, as a loyal, patriotic American, one must vote and when it is time to vote, who better to listen to than a wildly successful rock star or high priced celebrity?  I mean, you could listen to Meryl Streep, Oprah, the douche-bag Kanye West, or any one of a number of other wealthy mouthpieces instruct you in the proper way to cast your vote, because you, an educated, working, middle class, taxed to f-ing death commoner couldn’t possibly make up your own mind.

Of course not.  But Springsteen, the Boss, well, shiate.  How can you argue with him?  After all, who better to have a finger on the pulse of the hard working, blue collar, middle class than one who writes and warbles about such things in a down to earth, gravely voice – and wearing faded jeans, no less?  Ignore the fact that he has raked in so much money that he can afford to buy up every house, farm and plot of land around his home in Colts Neck, NJ, where real estate prices rival that of any other you can think of, including Beverly Hills, CA.

And that, dear readers, constitutes political savvy in my book.

Who among us has the time or stomach to navigate the pile of spin-doctored bullshiate being thrown at us continuously?  We are too busy, strung out on the wire, getting our backs burned, facts learned, in the darkness on the edge of town, or some rattlesnake speedway, looking for two tickets on that ghost city bus, all the while dodging the skeletons of burned out Chevrolet’s ‘neath Abram’s bridge.

It’s the working life, I tell you, just the working life, for us born in America, in our home town, while we wait on the rising. (or is it the Reisling? I think we would be better off waiting for that).

Ok, enough.  Now, Bruce (I include the word ‘boss’ in my list of ‘4-letter words’), I appreciate your wanting to stand up and lead us towards the promised land and all, thanks, but no thanks.  I feel that after 40+ years of listening to the same rhetoric spouting from the same pundit about the same issues and watching absolutely nothing change for the better, that I am fully qualified to make up my own mind.  And you could do us all a favor by conveying this message to your celebi-friends.  Save us all some time and yourselves some breath.

To be fair, should you, yourself, decide to run for office, you would have my vote. This is more due to my disgust with the ruling elite than it is with your political posture.  By the same token, I feel that I could do a better job than any of those idiots running at the mouth on the nightly news, but that’s just me.

In conclusion, I would say that, when the night’s quiet, and you don’t care anymore, and your eyes are tired, and there’s someone at your door
(let them in, for pete’s sake)
and you realize you wanna to let gooooooo-ooooooooooooo.  And the weak lies, and cold walls you embrace eat at your insides, and leave you face to face with streets of fiiiiiiirrrrre.

(hands down my favorite Springsteen song, and one of the best lead guitar breaks in rock).

You know, that’s not what I thought you were saying, all these years.  It must be that south Jersey accent thing, or a north Jersey hearing issue.  Thankfully the Internet and your website have set my @ss straight.

(man, I could use a cold beer right about now)

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