It's January 31, 2023, or as those in Spingsteenland would call it: Christmas Eve. Tomorrow night, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band will play a concert in Tampa, Florida. All the presents are waiting to be opened: a stocking filled with new set lists; a never been played debut song; a sparkly new rendition of an old favorite. And the great thing about Bruce-Mas is that it's not just one day of presents. Every night is a gift.

E Street last took to the road about six years ago, and this tour will mark the first time some of Bruce's recent work gets the full band treatment. I expect that treatment to be "heart-stopping and pants-dropping," but I also expect it to be heart-tugging and tear-dropping. Like previous tours, this one has that 'could-this-be-the-last-one' question hanging over it. While none of the other ones proved to be the last, this one has something that those don't: an extra six years of time tacked on for everyone involved. I don't think I need to remind anyone that time only goes in one direction.

Letter To You, Bruce's most recent studio album with the band includes songs titled: Ghosts, Last Man Standing, and I'll See You In My Dreams. If the year on the calendar isn't enough cause to think about finality, then the songs themselves should do the trick. Every No Surrender will make you think. Every "stay hard, stay hungry, stay alive" from This Hard Land is going to sting. Every set closer is going to have Meaning with a capital-M. While tomorrow night in Tampa won't be their last (the tour is just starting after all), it does mean that the eventual last show is one show closer. It's funny to wait so long for something only to immediately think of its eventual end. But time is a funny thing.

With that, let's turn to the lyric at hand. A lyric that tastes the bitterness of time and aging, and bites back. It's a stoic's last laugh.* Rest easy, sleep well, because guess what, it's only our bodies that betray us. Our mind doesn't. Our heart doesn't. Our soul doesn't.

What is it about beginnings that makes us think of ends? Maybe's there's a high school student who will get to see Bruce for the first time, just like I did in 2003. Maybe there's a husband who will get to take his wife to her first show, just like I hope to. But also, maybe (just maybe) this is the last time I'll get to see him.

*There's a stoic quote I love that says "You are a little soul carrying around a corpse." It's the essence of this lyric. And it's devastating to think about, but liberating to believe.