Sorry for the radio silence. I threw out my back last Monday—as in, eight days ago—and long story short, I wasn’t able to get out of bed until today. I'll write more about my saga anon because, let’s be honest, all three of you are simply dying to know every tiny little detail. And who can blame you?
My recovery is due to TLC from Top Management and the rest of the fambly and heavy, heavy drugs: prednisone, flexiril, percocet and megadoses of advil. Oh, and a most amazing book, about which more later.
But it turns out I should simply have listened to Bruce Springsteen. I mean, hell’s bells, that’s obvious—everyone should. But who knew that, in addition to being our great nation’s finest living musical performer, he had healing abilities?
The following is from an interview with ABC reporter Bob Woodruff and his wife, Lee; folks may recall that Bob suffered horrific injuries in Iraq and wasn’t expected to make much of a recovery, if indeed any a’tall. Turns out he’s back in the saddle again.
Rock: the giver of life.
A range of music from the Boss to Bach was mentioned in your book. Were there favorite musicians, authors and books, and movies that both of you turned to for rejuvenation during the recovery process?
LW: Bob's mother and brothers talked to him constantly. His father read the sports pages out loud to him, especially any news of his beloved Detroit Tigers, Pistons, and Red Wings. Melanie Bloom came down to spell me for a few days while I went up to be with the kids and she read the book Endurance about Ernest Shackleton's ill fated journey to the South Pole.
But I have to say that Bruce Springsteen was a major part of Bob's recovery. Bob is a huge Springsteen fan and he would take his music on the road to obscure places in the world and blast it for all of the guys in the crew. Bruce got word of this through friends of ours and sent Bob a wonderful note and some CDs. We played those CDs all of the time. And when I read Bob the letter during his coma, I kind stretched the truth a little— hoping it would help him wake up faster. I—um—sort of lied and said if he woke up, Bruce would come and play for him and some of the other soldiers in the hospital.
I thought nothing more of that until the second day Bob was awake. He turned to me suddenly and made strumming guitar motions. "I have to get one of those...umm..." and he strummed the air. "I need to be ready to play when that Bossman comes," he said.
Damn, sam. Now I'm wondering what CDs Bruce sent.
That man's magic, I tell ye. Magic.