I have two iconic Bruce Springsteen moments in my life. They are part of how I define myself in the world today. The first was in the beginning of the year-or-so-long “Born In The USA” tour (I saw that tour twice – the beginning and the end). It was at the Oakland Coliseum, and the place was filled with teenagers who were thrilled to see the guy with the number one song (the irony of which they just didn’t get) and a lot of folks in their early forties who were there for the cathartic anthems that had shaped them. We (the old folks) were dancing our butts off, the kids were screaming and jumping up and down. There’s nobody like Bruce. And it all began, really, with “Born To Run.”

The other moment was several years before that, also at the Oakland Coliseum, when Clarence Clemons stepped into the spotlight, center stage, and played the most amazingly emotional sax solo ever to goose a rock and roll song – “Jungleland.” My body shakes and my eyes tear up just thinking of it.

“Born To Run” is everything everybody says about it: poetry, drama, politics, optimism, defeat and hope – an opera. This program captures the uncertain majesty of this amazing work of art. I loved hearing about all the details of the process, most of which I hadn’t heard. Listening to it lead me, inevitably to my stereo to listen to the album itself for days afterward. Great work.

But there’s one big question. Where’s The Big Man? That album was also Clarence Clemons’ finest hour. I must confess I haven’t kept up with the gossip. Maybe they’re not speaking these days, but can you talk about “Born To Run” without Clarence Clemmons? Maybe they couldn’t get the interview with Bruce without promising to exclude Clarence, but……… geeeez!

So an excellent program has a major flaw. I’d still program it if I was a program director, with my own disclaimer. But if I was producing the program and I found myself in the awkward situation of having to leave The Big Man out of the story, I don’t know if I’d be able to go along with the program.