bruce springsteen blogs | Bruce Unstrung

I had a friend was a big baseball player Back in high school

He could throw that speedball by you Make you look like a fool boy

Saw him the other night at this road side bar

I was walking in, he was walking out

We went back inside, sat down, had a few drinks

But all he kept talking about was glory days…

Glory Days is a song of reminiscence. How long do we hold on to the past? How do we reconcile our past glories with our current situation? When did life stop being about baseball and girls and start being about mortgages and car repairs? Take this chance meeting between two old friends described in the first verse. After the obligatory small talk about where they now reside, how many kids they have, and whether they are married or divorced, where does the conversation go? “All he kept talking about was glory days.” Seeing an old friend brings you back to a simpler time.

We see many examples of the idea of escape in Springsteen’s writing. This conversation is an escape. “Remember that game when you struck out the first 5 batters?” “Yeah, but without your bases-clearing triple, we don’t win that game.” “Man, what a game. Bartender, another round!” By reliving childhood through shared memories, they are no longer adults. They are teenagers. In the morning, they will fight off a booze-induced headache and commute to a 9-to-5 job that serves as both tormentor and savior; a return to the real world. But for that one night, the glory days are as real as anything.

Well there’s a girl who lived up the block Back in school she could turn all the boy’s heads

Sometimes on a Friday I’ll stop by and have a few drinks After she put her kids to bed

Her and her husband Bobby, well they split up

I guess it’s two years gone by now

We just sit around talking about the old times

She says when she feels like crying she starts laughing thinking about, glory days…

Just like we all knew the kid with the 90 mph fastball, we also all knew that girl—always in the homecoming court and a look that would bring you to your knees. But where is she now? Where is she now that 20 years have burned down that road? The mental image of the 17 year old with the killer smile morphs into a more sober reality: divorced mom with two kids fighting to hold together what’s left of her family. Friday nights at the high school dance are now Friday nights with an old friend and an empty bottle of Riesling to collect the tears. But the old friend and the memories provide the escape. Gone are the divorce lawyers and the marriage counseling bills, and for just a few hours she’s back in that high school cafeteria. “Remember that time Katy Goodwin snuck the Peach Schnapps up the bleachers of the homecoming game?” “Yes! And how she fell down the entire set of steps on her ass?” “Man, her parents wouldn’t let her out of the house for a month.” “You want to open another bottle?” Escape can be a wonderful thing. You know that feeling when you start to cry and end up just laughing instead? This verse of the song captures exactly that.

Now I think I’m going down to the well tonight And I’m gonna drink till I get my fill

And I hope when I get old I don’t sit around thinking about it, but I probably will

Yeah, just sitting back, trying to recapture, a little of the glory of,

Well time slips away and leaves you with nothing mister but

Boring stories of glory days…

We hope for a brighter future than our past. We don’t want to envision ourselves just sitting back, trying to recapture our past glories. Even though our past may have been great, we still hope to improve our lives with each day that passes. In reality, however, it is difficult to live up to nostalgia. We long for what we can’t get back: our innocence, our jauntiness, our youth. We pine for it. The funny thing about “boring stories of glory days” is that they are anything but. If you lived it, it’s never boring. That’s why we tell the same damn stories over and over again: because they immortalize a part of us that we can’t get back. So, I think I am going down to the well tonight. And I just might drink until I get my fill. And if time slips away, and leaves me with nothing but boring old high school stories? I think I’ll be just fine.

“Glory Days” appears on Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 album Born In The U.S.A.

The images of September 11^th, 2001 conjure up no shortage of emotions, opinions, and memories. We all remember it, and we all have feelings about it. For some, it was an act of terror that could have been prevented by both a tighter security at home and a close self-examination as to why some people harbor so much hatred for us. For some, it was the tipping point for a broader foreign policy that took the fight to our enemies across the globe. For others, a more sinister inside job was at play, a conspiracy like no other. In the end, it was a day that shook us all to our very foundations; a day that changed everyone in some way. But through all the smoke, both figurative and literal, one thing is incontrovertible: the first responders rushed into an inferno that they couldn’t be sure they’d walk out of. It was their job, and they didn’t know any other way.

The sky was falling and streaked with blood

I heard you calling me then you disappeared into the dust

Up the stairs, into the fire…

“Into The Fire” is written from the perspective of someone who’s loved one is in New York City that momentous day, doing the only job they know how to do. I picture someone in their kitchen, pacing back and forth by the phone, waiting for a reassuring call that everything is ok. In the living room, adorned with family photos, the television drones out its horrifying sounds and images. A child calls from her bedroom, asking if breakfast is ready. The person in the kitchen just stares back and forth between the phone and the television. She can somehow hear him, calling out to her through the ether, as he takes that first step into the building.

I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher

Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire…

She needs his kiss, at this moment more than any moment she can remember. She always knew this was possible, his line of work called for it. Love. Love for his beloved city, the only place he ever called home. Love for his family, whom he worked every day to provide for. Duty. This was his job, and like so many others, his job went a long way in defining him. When that bell rang in the station house, he didn’t stop to ask questions. He just went. This was his duty, and his duty didn’t afford him the luxury of giving his wife one last kiss before he left.

May your strength give us strength

May your faith give us faith

May your hope give us hope

May your love give us love.

I’ve always found a great sense of community in Bruce Springsteen’s writing. When our community experiences a tragedy, we take care of our own. We become one. Your strength gives me strength. Your faith gives me faith. My hope gives you hope. Our communal love permeates everything. We become one living, breathing organism. This is the point in the song where we are given hope; the hope that we will rise again out of the ashes both in brick and mortar and in spirit. No matter how much we’ve lost, and we lost a great deal on 9-11, the strength, faith, hope, and love of our community will help us persevere.

It was dark, too dark to see, you held me in the light you gave

You lay your hand on me, then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave

Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire…

We return back to our narrator, perhaps now lying in her darkened bedroom. Maybe it’s a dream, maybe it’s a hallucination, or maybe in some way it’s real, but she sees a glow. He comes back to her one last time, lays his hands on her cheek. No words spoken, he turns his back and walks away again. This is his goodbye. Up the stairs, into the fire…

“Into The Fire” is the second track on Bruce Springsteen’s 2002 album The Rising, his first album with the E-Street Band in 18 years.

Tag Archives: bruce springsteen blogs

Glory Days (1984)

Into The Fire (2002)