The Perfect Word

Was out traveling around the other night when Reason to Believe by Springsteen popped on the E-Street Radio.

That song is an important one in the Fazzolari family. November 5 just passed and we talked about the fact that 12 years ago Jake underwent the operation that saved his life.

Jake didn't want to talk about it until we told him that the anniversary was a good reason to buy him a present.

We took him to the video store.

Yet the Reason to Believe song was the song that got one of us through the ordeal.

At the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe.

It wasn't me.

Kathy was the one who really leaned on that song. So much so that when I'd get into the vehicle we shared for the back and forth to the hospital it had just been played.

She wasn't that big of a Bruce fan!

How had she found an obscure song off the Nebraska album? An album that almost no one bought!

We were together the other night when it came on the radio.

"My favorite," Kathy said.

I thought about the fact that Bruce was severely depressed when he wrote the record. All of the interviews say that he was living alone and that he isolated himself from everything, and wrote the angry, sad album in a fit of depression.

I know that writing comes out of that.

I also know that it's real difficult to find the right words to verbalize that for the audience. There's a fine line between sounding like a crazy man and finding that spot where people can relate.

The verse that got me:

Congregation gathers down by the river side. Preacher stands with a Bible, groom stands waiting for his bride.
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weeping willow tree.
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly.
Wondering where can his baby be.
Still at the end of every hard-earned day
People find some reason to believe.


Imagine the time that went into the word choices made to convey the message.

Just ridiculous, folks.

It could have been any kind of tree.

The fact that the Bible is in play.

That the world moves on...effortlessly...despite the pain...in the hearts of a single man.

"God. The perfect words," I said.

"It got me through," Kathy said.

And there you have it, folks. The full circle. Bruce in a creaking chair with a guitar and a real sour face. Wondering how he can put it out there and make a difference in the lives of people he will never stand face-to-face with.

Perfection.

You wanna' be a writer?

Find the perfection.

That's all.

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