Who’s the Boss?

Do I know Bruce Springsteen?  Well, not exactly. Hailing from Jersey doesn’t mean I have a personal relationship with the Boss, but fate has intervened and our paths have crossed. I’d be willing to bet that a sizable portion of Jersey Shore locals have their stories.  But for some reason, mixing Ryan Wetter and Bruce Springsteen has always been an episode out of Seinfeld.

Pilot:  Less Weight; More Reps

It’s 6th grade and I’m looking for a mentor. My dad joined a gym and mentioned that Bruce Springsteen was a member. Who better to look up to then the Boss? I convinced my dad to let me join, hoping one day to have Bruce Springsteen ask for a spot. It was my first day at at the gym and initially I didn’t see Bruce. Never bench pressing before, I added too much weight only to have it fall on me. With stars in my eyes, Bruce Springsteen came from the shadows, reached down and lifted the bar from my chest. “Less weight, more reps” is what he said as he strolled out of my life and into the locker room. Next time, let me die of suffocation rather than from embarrassment. Dick.

Episode 2: I Was Walking In, They Were Walking Out

My friend Tim Stroebel had Bruce tickets. We were tailgating when someone droped the ball: “Bruce isn’t playing any of his old shit.” “Then why the fuck,” I thought, “was I here?” I haven’t kept up with his music. So I got drunk, hoping to fall asleep during the concert. Too drunk to walk unassisted, my friends led me to an empty row while they went for snacks. I resented Bruce for making new songs I didn’t know… until I saw something flying towards me. I stood up as it got closer and extended my arm. An insect the size of a bird but resembling a mantis had landed on my arm. I sat for a while with the mantis, loving that I ruined the Bruce experience for those around me who moved their seats because of the 10 pound insect on my shoulder.

Finale: Cross-dressing In The Dark

It was an assignment for French class. We had to create a video where we only spoke French. David Waldman (guy on the right is Waldman) was my partner and I knew we were fucked. I dressed up as our French teacher, Mrs. Maloney, and Dave as the Crocodile Hunter. He chased me around New Jersey with a butterfly net while speaking a mix of broken French and English. Midway through filming, we got tired of looking at our cameraman’s disinterested expressions. “We need to spice it up,” I remember Dave saying. It just so happens we were in Rumson, which was home to Bruce Springsteen. If only I could see his expression that day… when I rang his gate, stared into the security camera with a butterfly net over my face and proclaimed “Bonjour Bruce, C’est Madame Maloney! Remember moi? Petite weight, plus reps!”

We failed the French assignment, I fall asleep now at most concerts and to this day, I can’t bench press to save my life. I don’t blame my misfortunes on Bruce Springsteen. Rather, I blame anyone who brings him up when I mention where I’m from. “New Jersey you say? Do you know Bruce?” Although I don’t know him personally, he is still my hometown nemesis.