Big Man
Page 33
“Me?” said Bruce.
“Would you take our picture?”
She took a cell phone out of her purse and handed it to Bruce.
“Well, sure. Be glad to,” he said, as he stood.
“You just look through there and then push this button,” she said.
“Got it,” he replied.
She then sat next to Clarence, who put his big arm around her, leaned toward her, and smiled at the camera. “Make me look good,” he said to Bruce.
“I can only do so much,” said Bruce, as he took the picture. “One more for luck,” he added, and he took another.
“Thank you so much,” she said to Clarence while extending her open hand toward Bruce. Bruce put the camera in her hand and sat again.
“My pleasure,” said Clarence.
“What are you doing here in Pozo?” she asked.
“Just came to see my buddy here,” he said, nodding toward Bruce.
“Are you going to be doing any more shows?” she said to Clarence.
“That’s up to Bruce,” said Clarence. “He’s the Boss.”
“Well, you can tell him that I think you should be the boss,” she said.
“I will,” said Clarence.
“Okay, then… thanks again,” she said.
“You’re very welcome,” said Clarence.
She gave him a little finger wave then walked away.
“She thinks I should be the boss,” said Clarence.
“She might be right,” said Bruce.
They hung out and talked for a while about nothing in particular, but if you broke the conversation down you’d find that it covered incidents from more than four decades. They also talked about the future for a while. The bar thinned out, and they switched to soda and then coffee.
They split a chicken-fried steak and a piece of apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
Then they had another cup of coffee and talked about music.
Some new people came into the place, and one guy at the bar kept turning around and looking at Bruce with that surprised smile of recognition. The guy was trying to position his cell phone to take a picture. Bruce didn’t really mind. He was used to it. In fact, this was closer to normal than the rest of the day had been.
“Maybe he’ll ask me to take a picture of the two of you,” said Clarence, smiling.
“I don’t think so,” said Bruce.
The swinging door leading to the kitchen opened, and a Hispanic kid wearing an apron and a hairnet walked out. When the door was open voices could be heard speaking Spanish.
The kid went over to the jukebox in the corner. It was an old Wurlitzer model and had the words MI CABANA written on the front. He dropped a coin into the slot and began to look at the choices.
“I say Freddie Fender,” said Clarence.
“Nah,” said Bruce. “That thing has forty-fives, so it’ll be something old. Willie Nelson, maybe, or something like Canned Heat.”
The kid pushed a couple of buttons and went back into the kitchen.
“If it’s ‘Born to Run’ you’re picking up the check,” said Clarence.
Within thirty seconds a song began to play. It was “The Girl from Ipanema” from the summer of 1964. Stan Getz’s honey-coated sax filled the room, followed by Astrud Gilberto’s breathy voice.
“This is from the soundtrack to my life,” said Clarence.
“Me, too,” said Bruce. “Me, too.”
They listened quietly, each with their own thoughts, until the song ended. Nothing else came on afterward.
Outside the day began to pale toward that thin California twilight.
“Well,” said Bruce. “Shall we hit the road?”
My Grandma’s house. That’s me and my sister Geraldine.
Credit: Clemons Family
At my Mom’s graduation. Me, Mom (Thelma), Geraldine, and my cousin Caroline Jenkins.
Credit: Clemons Family
My high school yearbook photo.
Credit: Clemons Family
The young Boss. This was taken in the early ’70s one weekend when Bruce came to visit my folks in Virginia.
Credit: Clemons Family
Geraldine, Bruce, Me, Serena Smith, and Mom. This is from that same visit as the previous picture. Serena was a friend of mine back in the day.
Credit: Clemons Family
In Hawaii for my son Christopher’s christening. Bruce, Dad, Quincy, and Bill Clemons. Bruce is Christopher’s godfather. Credit: Clemons Family
Me and my horn in 1975. Credit: Barbara Pyle
Mr. Tambourine Man. Credit: Barbara Pyle
The band and a broken-down bus in Dallas. Credit: Barbara Pyle
The Big Man in the mirror. Taken in my dressing room in Wiedner, PA.
Credit: Barbara Pyle
Some things never change. This one is from Texas in the summer of ’75.
Credit: Barbara Pyle
A dawn rehearsal at the Record Plant in New York City. Credit: Barbara Pyle
We’ll meet ‘neath that giant Exxon sign… Barbara Pyle, my friend who was at some of the Born to Run sessions, took this great picture of me and Roy.
Credit: Barbara Pyle
Some pretty sweet hats. Pauls Valley, Oklahoma. Credit: Barbara Pyle
An alternate cover for Born to Run. This one is a lot sexier. Credit: Eric Meola
Shea Stadium, 2003. This was taken before sound check at the end of The Rising tour. Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
Boat ride in Scandinavia, 2008. This looks so peaceful, but we were surrounded by boatloads of paparazzi. Credit: Lani Richmond
Monday Night Football band. This was the second best band I ever played with.
Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
The authors at work. This is me and Don at the Trump Hotel in NYC making up a whole new bunch of lies. Credit: Judith D. Allison
Me, Victoria, and Dr. Milton Reed on my final wedding day. Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
The shrine onstage—Terry Magovern with Sri Chinmoy; Danny; me and Dick Moroso. I look at these pictures everytime I’m on the stage and celebrate my departed friends. They’re all still with me. Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
Scooter and the Big Man still having fun after all these years.
Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
On stage with my Christopher, 2007. What a night this was. I loved playing “Dancing in the Dark” with my son. Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
After surgery, 2008. Me and Lani Richmond. The room had a great view but I didn’t see it. By the time I came to, I was in another room.
Credit: Victoria Clemons
Danny. I will miss him every day that I’m alive. Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
This is a unique perspective of the band at the end of a show.
Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
Smoking in Spain. This was taken at a great place in the hills outside of San Sebastián. George Travis, Jon Landau, and Bruce were all there at other tables. We can’t get away from each other even if we try. Credit: Damon Wayans
Damon Wayans and sunburned Bruce in Spain. Damon kept everybody laughing all night. Credit: Don Reo
Victoria and I going home in New York City just before dawn. Don took this picture from the limo when we got back from “The Ride Home” show. One of the best I can remember. Credit: Don Reo
That’s me in the Temple of Soul—Boston version. I’m locked and loaded.
Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
Super Bowl. This is a great photo taken by my friend Jo Lopez during the halftime show. Even I have to admit that this is pretty cool.
Credit: JoLopezPhotography.com
Me and Bruce. What can I say? It feels like the Born to Run cover but it also stands on its own. I think this is a beautiful image that captures the relationship we have and the humor, the camaraderie, and the mystery of our friendship. I especially like the fact that it’s black and white. Credit: N.F.L. Photo
Acknowledgments
To Sandy Goldfarb and Bob Mitzman, thanks for the jet.
To all the people who appear on the pages of this book in truth or in fiction. And finally, thanks to all the writers who continue to throw something that glows into the darkness.
With Big Love to all of you,
Don and Clarence.