They came from distant lands, by all means of transport, public and private. The arena was packed – 10,000, maybe more. All waiting nervously. Excited about witnessing one of the rare events of the modern world.

Some wore robes of events past. Others were joined by their children, even grandchildren. The young and the old, together in anticipation. The mood was buoyant. Necks craned towards the stage, their owners eager to be the first to sight the great man.

Instantly the dark engulfed us. The crowd erupted – screaming, shouting, hooting!

A thin white plume of smoke rose above the masses – was it the signal we were awaiting? Then a movement on the stage. He’d arrived. And as one, the crowd began the chant…

BBBRRRUUUUUCCEE! BBBRRRUUUUUCCEE! BBBRRRUUUUUCCEE!

Yes folks this was it – not the inauguration of Francis in a Frock. This was the start of an epic event – a Bruce Springsteen concert.

White smoke rises above the masses

The Boss is famous for his energetic shows and enthusiasm for his audiences. And again he delivered. Within a half hour he was reaching out to touch the people. They poured forth, also touching him, shouting his name. I never thought the name ‘Bruce’ carried such religious connotations. Particularly after the infamous Monty Python sketches deriding Australian’s, because they all seemed to be named Bruce. I know quite a few Bruce’s – but I digress.

Then he jumped from the stage and walked among his throng. Women fainted, grown men begged a handshake and the masses hollered. He kept singing as he greeted his followers – encouraging them to join in one big mutual chorus.

A low walkway was hidden within the area down front, where people paid a gazillion dollars to stand all night with a pink wristband as ID. The Boss walked across it. Was he walking on the shoulders of the fans? All this was projected on large overhead screens, for those too far away for their binoculars to focus.

The Boss…projected overhead

He knelt and kissed a silver-haired lady on the forehead. For a minute I was shocked. “Mum?” I screamed, then realised she wasn’t a fan. But the look of exhilaration on her face, made her appear at least 50 years younger. And the grin on her partner’s face gave away his thoughts immediately. The crowd loved it, more cheering and whistles.

Then The Boss leaned back towards the stage and crowd-surfed his way across his followers and fans. Held aloft by hundreds of digits groping and clawing with one hand while taking photos with their phones in the other. They wanted social media kudos – unlike their mere mortal friends and connections – they had really connected with The Boss.

But that’s when it hit me – a close up that I’d earlier blamed on a technical hitch in the lighting. The Boss’s sideburns, yes folks his sideburns, were a different colour to his well-cut crop on top. The sides were dark with a grey tinge. His crop was almost auburn. Auburn! Doesn’t The Boss have black hair? Maybe I’m wrong?

In mild panic I shouted above the din and asked my wife if I was hallucinating – she replied disappointed, “not again dear”. Then I rephrased and asked her opinion. “Yes” she confirmed. It appeared The Boss dyed his hair.

I was stunned – and completely missed the next couple of songs as I pondered this possibility. Could it be true that the definition of “rock authenticity” in the rock n roll dictionary, had succumbed to cosmetic influences? What has become of the world?

He is after all 63 years of age. And he obviously has problems reading the run sheet on the floor. He relied on the fans to tell him what songs to play. Many of these followers were apparently aware The Boss had an eyesight problem. So they held aloft cardboard signs with the names of his famous songs written in large letters.

Bruce, I feel I can call him that now, would pluck a sign from a willing hand. He’d then display it for the cameras to project on the overhead screens (he’s quite thoughtful that way) and then show the band, before placing the sign against the microphone stand. He didn’t have to worry about what to play. His fans created the run sheet for him – that’s true community for you – and not a Tweet or FB posting in sight.

But wait. What’s this? The Boss is hoisting a young child on stage – a boy of maybe 12 years. I have no idea if he couldn’t walk before he was chosen, but the child has now started singing and dancing on stage with The Boss. They joined hands and ran across the stage, finishing in a knee slide with hands aloft – just like real rock stars! (or EPL goal scorers).

The crowd was out of its seat at once. Tears were even shed at this generous gesture of greatness. The Boss was truly a wonder. What a show! What a band! What a mystery! Does The Boss really dye his hair?

We raced for the exit, beating the masses to a taxi.

Falling into the cab, we were completely wired from the experience. Our driver asked in his second language, English, “has da concert finished?”.

“Yes” we replied.

“Who wazza playin?” he inquired.

“Bruce Springsteen, The Boss” I exclaimed, looking forward to an enthusiastic discussion about said wonder.

“Never heard of him” said the driver. “Is he the one that paints his face and has that coloured hair?”

Deflated, I didn’t know how to answer, so I scrolled my camera roll for evidence….does The Boss really dye his hair?

I’m feeling lazy today, so here’s a few laughs at our expense:

Apple Marketing

A young man asked an old rich man how he made his money.

The old guy fingered his expensive wool vest and said, “Well, son, it was 1932. The depth of the Great Depression. I was down to my last nickel. Marketing was the key to my success.”

“I invested that nickel in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing the apple and, at the end of the day, I sold the apple for ten cents.”

“The next morning, I invested those ten cents in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them at 5:00 pm for 20 cents. I continued this system for a month, by the end of which I’d accumulated a fortune of $9.80.”

“Then my wife’s father died and left us two million dollars.”

The Top 10 Signs You Work In Marketing

10. You lecture the neighbourhood kids selling lemonade on ways to improve their look-to-buy ratio.

9. You get all excited when it’s Saturday so you can wear casual clothes to work.

8. You refer to the tomatoes grown in your garden as “deliverables.”

7. You find you really need PowerPoint to explain what you do for a living.

6. You normally eat out of vending machines and at the most expensive restaurant in town within the same week.

5. You wear grey to work instead of navy blue to make a bold fashion statement.

4. You know the people at the airport and hotel better than your next door neighbours.

3. You ask your friends to “think out of the box” when making Friday night plans.

2. You think Einstein would have been more effective had he put his ideas into a matrix.

1. You think a “half-day” means leaving work at 5 o’clock.

Good for Business

A visiting customer is taken by the Marketing Manager on a tour of a factory that produces various latex products.

At the first stop, he’s shown the machine that manufactures baby-bottle nipples. The machine makes a loud hiss-pop! noise.

“The hiss is the rubber being injected into the mold,” explains the Marketer. “The popping sound is a needle poking a hole in the end of the nipple.”

Later, the tour reaches the part of the factory where condoms are manufactured.

The machine makes a noise: ‘Hiss. Hiss. Hiss. Hiss-pop!”

“Wait a minute!” says the customer. “I understand what the ‘hiss, hiss,’ is, but what’s that ‘pop!’ every so often?”

“Oh, it’s just the same as in the baby-bottle nipple machine,” says the guide. “It pokes a hole in every fourth condom.”

“Well, that can’t be good for the condoms!”

“Yeah, but it’s great for the baby-bottle nipple business!”

Huddle up tight folks, I need your help. This is not a simple problem to solve.

My son started at a new school this year and so did a family from the USA. Their son and ours have become good friends. We’ve also become friends with this family and the father, let’s call him Joe, cannot stop saying what a wonderful country we live in.

I’m purposefully not saying their real names for reasons that will become apparent.

They have been posted here for a few years. Joe has a very high-powered job that has him travelling around Asia. They are renting an amazing home on the hillside of Balmoral Beach – a lovely suburb on the north side of Sydney Harbour. Here’s a typical view:

Last week, they received a notice that their street would be disrupted occasionally by a film crew over the next 3 months – with the usual apologies and contact numbers for discussion. They were a tad concerned. It’s hard enough learning to drive on the left side of the road, without also having camera crews in your face.

The notice referred to the address next to their home. So eventually they met and introduced themselves to their new neighbours with the film crew.

Guess whose their new neighbours were? And how damn inconvenient. Yes folks, our new friends are living next door the cast and crew of “Australia’s Next Top Model” hosted by former Miss Universe, Australia’s very own Jennifer Hawkins.

Well you can imagine the problem this has caused Joe and every father of his children’s class mates. The poor sod is having his life disrupted by sweet young things gallivanting in the pool next door – which by the way you can see from the entrance walkway. I only know this because when I was visiting their home last weekend to drop off their son after a visit to our home, I glanced over the fence and just happened to notice 6 models in bikinis doing their aqua-exercises. Gosh they exercised for at least 20 minutes. There were trees in the way, so it took a while to glance.

So this is the dilemma faced by my new best friend in this foreign country – he needs all the help he can get folks. Does he:

1. Run his own live stream video from his roof-cam on You Tube and make money from advertising revenue?
2. Get the model’s autographs and sell them on eBay?
3. Invite Jen and the girls over for a house warming BBQ and discussion on the rights of tenants in modern society?
4. Work from home for the next 3 months and forget about the Asian market?

I’ve offered to help him make the decision and have set up daily planning meetings at his home, so he doesn’t have to face our peak hour traffic. The fathers in the parents group at school have also unselfishly volunteered to assist – that’s good old fashioned Aussie mateship for you.

I’d welcome your suggestions too. The girls next door are very friendly and not shy at all. They eagerly asked our friends if they had any sons. The mother said “yes, one, but he’s only nine” – so the girls lost interest in the conversation and went back to the pool.

I’m not a fan of reality TV shows, but given my connection to this one, I may just watch it to support my new best friend. Where’s the remote!