DanMargarita.com

Last Sunday I was given a birthday surprise of tickets to see "The Boss" at the Fleet Center. I was kept in the dark about our destination, but was finally able to figure it out as we walked down Friend Street, my keen powers of deduction making the assumption that my girlfriend wasn't taking me to "Halftime Pizza" or "Hooters."

For almost three hours, Bruce belted out tune after tune, taking an intermission that lasted three minutes, tops.

A three hour performance? I get exhausted golfing for three hours. Did you ever try driving anywhere with little kids for three hours? If you have, then you know that three hours is a long time.

"Are we there yet?"

Come to think of it, I'm exhausted after a three-hour nap. Yes, three hours is a long time, but the Boss never wilted.

This is all the more impressive because Springsteen is almost 50-years-old.

Baby boomers have been pushing the boundaries of so called age limits in recent years. George Foreman and Larry Holmes were Heavyweight contenders until well into their forties. George has since retired from boxing to promote his "Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine," a product that he didn't appear to have used during the latter portion of his boxing career.

Some women may have found it heartening a while back when Playboy magazine featured Vicky LaMotta and Nancy Sinatra, both in their fifties, as centerfolds. I have to admit that that at the time I remember being relieved to know that Irene "Granny" Ryan and Nancy "Miss Hathaway" Kulp were no longer alive for a "Ladies of The Beverly Hillbillies issue.

Imagine what it might be like if your job was remotely like Bruce Springsteen's. Would you be able to put that kind of energy into it?

Sure it would be nice to walk in the door every morning to a thunderous round of applause. At a count of "One,two,three" begin to furiously filling out those reports that your boss wanted. At some point jump up on top of your desk and announce, "I'd like to introduce the billing department. On billing inquiry, Dina Anderson, and on supplies, the big man---Bill Driscoll!" Then thank everyone and exit to a waiting limousine.

I tried jumping around like Bruce for a few minutes while typing that last paragraph, but all it served to do was leave my dog with a confused look on her face, and re-injure my hamstring.

Well, most of us don't have as exciting jobs as Bruce because we don't have his talent, and thus, we don't have his income.

Tomorrow I'll schlep back to the office as usual, where my co-workers understand that I have one firm rule:

NO AUTOGRAPHS!