Newsgroup: it.fan.musica.springsteen
Titolo: Elogio funebre di bruce a Clarence

This is a slightly revised version of the eulogy I delivered for Clarence at 
his memorial. I'd like to thank all our fans and friends who have comforted 
us over the past difficult weeks.FOR THE BIG MAN
I've been sitting here listening to everyone talk about Clarence and staring 
at that photo of the two of us right there. It's a picture of Scooter and 
The Big Man, people who we were sometimes. As you can see in this particular 
photo, Clarence is admiring his muscles and I'm pretending to be nonchalant 
while leaning upon him. I leaned on Clarence a lot; I made a career out of 
it in some ways.
Those of us who shared Clarence's life, shared with him his love and his 
confusion. Though "C" mellowed with age, he was always a wild and 
unpredictable ride. Today I see his sons Nicky, Chuck, Christopher and Jarod 
sitting here and I see in them the reflection of a lot of C's qualities. I 
see his light, his darkness, his sweetness, his roughness, his gentleness, 
his anger, his brilliance, his handsomeness, and his goodness. But, as you 
boys know your pop was a not a day at the beach. "C" lived a life where he 
did what he wanted to do and he let the chips, human and otherwise, fall 
where they may. Like a lot of us your pop was capable of great magic and 
also of making quite an amazing mess. This was just the nature of your daddy 
and my beautiful friend. Clarence's unconditional love, which was very real, 
came with a lot of conditions. Your pop was a major project and always a 
work in progress. "C" never approached anything linearly, life never 
proceeded in a straight line. He never went A... B.... C.... D. It was 
always A... J.... C.... Z... Q... I....! That was the way Clarence lived and 
made his way through the world. I know that can lead to a lot of confusion 
and hurt, but your father also carried a lot of love with him, and I know he 
loved each of you very very dearly.
It took a village to take care of Clarence Clemons. Tina, I'm so glad you're 
here. Thank you for taking care of my friend, for loving him. Victoria, 
you've been a loving, kind and caring wife to Clarence and you made a huge 
difference in his life at a time when the going was not always easy. To all 
of "C's" vast support network, names too numerous to mention, you know who 
you are and we thank you. Your rewards await you at the pearly gates. My pal 
was a tough act but he brought things into your life that were unique and 
when he turned on that love light, it illuminated your world. I was lucky 
enough to stand in that light for almost 40 years, near Clarence's heart, in 
the Temple of Soul.
So a little bit of history: from the early days when Clarence and I traveled 
together, we'd pull up to the evening's lodgings and within minutes "C" 
would transform his room into a world of his own. Out came the colored 
scarves to be draped over the lamps, the scented candles, the incense, the 
patchouli oil, the herbs, the music, the day would be banished, 
entertainment would come and go, and Clarence the Shaman would reign and 
work his magic, night after night. Clarence's ability to enjoy Clarence was 
incredible. By 69, he'd had a good run, because he'd already lived about 10 
lives, 690 years in the life of an average man. Every night, in every place, 
the magic came flying out of C's suitcase. As soon as success allowed, his 
dressing room would take on the same trappings as his hotel room until a 
visit there was like a trip to a sovereign nation that had just struck huge 
oil reserves. "C" always knew how to live. Long before Prince was out of his 
diapers, an air of raunchy mysticism ruled in the Big Man's world. I'd 
wander in from my dressing room, which contained several fine couches and 
some athletic lockers, and wonder what I was doing wrong! Somewhere along 
the way all of this was christened the Temple of Soul; and "C" presided 
smilingly over its secrets, and its pleasures. Being allowed admittance to 
the Temple's wonders was a lovely thing.
As a young child my son Sam became enchanted with the Big Man... no 
surprise. To a child Clarence was a towering fairy tale figure, out of some 
very exotic storybook. He was a dreadlocked giant, with great hands and a 
deep mellifluous voice sugared with kindness and regard. And... to Sammy, 
who was just a little white boy, he was deeply and mysteriously black. In 
Sammy's eyes, "C" must have appeared as all of the African continent, shot 
through with American cool, rolled into one welcoming and loving figure. 
So... Sammy decided to pass on my work shirts and became fascinated by 
Clarence's suits and his royal robes. He declined a seat in dad's van and 
opted for "C's" stretch limousine, sitting by his side on the slow cruise to 
the show. He decided dinner in front of the hometown locker just wouldn't 
do, and he'd saunter up the hall and disappear into the Temple of Soul.
Of course, also enchanted was Sam's dad, from the first time I saw my pal 
striding out of the shadows of a half empty bar in Asbury Park, a path 
opening up before him; here comes my brother, here comes my sax man, my 
inspiration, my partner, my lifelong friend. Standing next to Clarence was 
like standing next to the baddest ass on the planet. You were proud, you 
were strong, you were excited and laughing with what might happen, with what 
together, you might be able to do. You felt like no matter what the day or 
the night brought, nothing was going to touch you. Clarence could be fragile 
but he also emanated power and safety, and in some funny way we became each 
other's protectors; I think perhaps I protected "C" from a world where it 
still wasn't so easy to be big and black. Racism was ever present and over 
the years together, we saw it. Clarence's celebrity and size did not make 
him immune. I think perhaps "C" protected me from a world where it wasn't 
always so easy to be an insecure, weird and skinny white boy either. But, 
standing together we were badass, on any given night, on our turf, some of 
the baddest asses on the planet. We were united, we were strong, we were 
righteous, we were unmovable, we were funny, we were corny as hell and as 
serious as death itself. And we were coming to your town to shake you and to 
wake you up. Together, we told an older, richer story about the 
possibilities of friendship that transcended those I'd written in my songs 
and in my music. Clarence carried it in his heart. It was a story where the 
Scooter and the Big Man not only busted the city in half, but we kicked ass 
and remade the city, shaping it into the kind of place where our friendship 
would not be such an anomaly. And that... that's what I'm gonna miss. The 
chance to renew that vow and double down on that story on a nightly basis, 
because that is something, that is the thing that we did together... the two 
of us. Clarence was big, and he made me feel, and think, and love, and dream 
big. How big was the Big Man? Too fucking big to die. And that's just the 
facts. You can put it on his grave stone, you can tattoo it over your heart. 
Accept it... it's the New World.
Clarence doesn't leave the E Street Band when he dies. He leaves when we 
die.
So, I'll miss my friend, his sax, the force of nature his sound was, his 
glory, his foolishness, his accomplishments, his face, his hands, his humor, 
his skin, his noise, his confusion, his power, his peace. But his love and 
his story, the story that he gave me, that he whispered in my ear, that he 
allowed me to tell... and that he gave to you... is gonna carry on. I'm no 
mystic, but the undertow, the mystery and power of Clarence and my 
friendship leads me to believe we must have stood together in other, older 
times, along other rivers, in other cities, in other fields, doing our 
modest version of god's work... work that's still unfinished. So I won't say 
goodbye to my brother, I'll simply say, see you in the next life, further on 
up the road, where we will once again pick up that work, and get it done.
Big Man, thank you for your kindness, your strength, your dedication, your 
work, your story. Thanks for the miracle... and for letting a little white 
boy slip through the side door of the Temple of Soul.
SO LADIES AND GENTLEMAN... ALWAYS LAST, BUT NEVER LEAST. LET'S HEAR IT FOR 
THE MASTER OF DISASTER, the BIG KAHUNA, the MAN WITH A PHD IN SAXUAL 
HEALING, the DUKE OF PADUCAH, the KING OF THE WORLD, LOOK OUT OBAMA! THE 
NEXT BLACK PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES EVEN THOUGH HE'S DEAD... YOU WISH 
YOU COULD BE LIKE HIM BUT YOU CAN'T! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE BIGGEST MAN 
YOU'VE EVER SEEN!... GIVE ME A C-L-A-R-E-N-C-E. WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! 
WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! ... amen.
I'm gonna leave you today with a quote from the Big Man himself, which he 
shared on the plane ride home from Buffalo, the last show of the last tour. 
As we celebrated in the front cabin congratulating one another and telling 
tales of the many epic shows, rocking nights and good times we'd shared, "C" 
sat quietly, taking it all in, then he raised his glass, smiled and said to 
all gathered, "This could be the start of something big."
Love you, "C".

 ... amen.
Mitico! :°°) 

 WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! WHAT'S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE!
Questa parte l'ho sentita ai concerti con la estreet band.
Nostalgia e tempi che non torneranno più.
Addio C., ci hai fatto sognare.
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