Bruce Springsteen’s Thunder Road is a life journey and a lesson

August 25, 2025 is the 50th anniversary of the release of Bruce Springsteen’s album, Born to Run. Bruce was a big part of my adolescence and through college. Born to Run, The River, and Born in the USA were the anthem of my coming of age in the 70s and 80s.

On of my favorite songs by Bruce is Thunder Road. That doesn’t make me unique at all. It’s an anthem of growing up, of exploring freedom, of an unknown and exciting future. My childhood friend, Rabbi Neil Zuckerman, writes beautifully about it in his recent blog in the Times of Israel.

As I read his blog and thought about the song on it’s 50th anniversary, I was inspired to think about the song in a different way. I went back to an old version of the song that I stumbled upon years ago. It is a very different version yet entirely recognizable. The music is very similar but the lyrics, the lack of harmonica, and the lightness in the song are noticably different. The intention of the story remains the same – a right of passage, a blank page as Neil describes in his blog, an exciting, unknown future. Yet the difference is signficant. The protaganist is different. The song is much more focused on the freedom of the car and what that means than the journey itself. As I listen to Bruce sing it, I understand where he’s going with the song, especially knowing the final version. It’s a beautiful version yet it isn’t the classic that millions have come to love. It’s part of his journey. Take a listen for yourself. I love it and enjoy the differences.

Early version of Thunder Road – enjoy the differences

When I listen to this song and then listen to the classic version, it is easy to see the process of growth. From a blank sheet of paper, Bruce got the version above. From a blank sheet of paper in our lives, we can get something beautiful. And just like Bruce, it doesn’t have to be the final version. When he wrote the song, it was about Angelina. The final version it is Mary. People come in and out of our lives, just like they came in and out of Bruce’s version of Thunder Road. Angelina is beautiful and powerful and was critical to the song. Until she wasn’t and it was Mary. The 442 was an essential part of Thunder Road in the first version until it wasn’t in the final version. As you listen, you will note so many things in the first version that do not appear in the final version.

That is life. As we approach Rosh Hashanah, we have a blank slate in front of us. We have the entire year to craft what is going to fill the page. Had Bruce left the song in its original format, it would have been a fantastic song. One people loved. Instead, he used the time he had to continue to work on it, to continue to alter what he put on the page, until he came up with the final, iconic version. I enjoy both. That’s the beauty of life – we can enjoy and appreciate the journey, the early versions of who we are, and the versions that we are today, all while we work to be a better version of ourselves.

As Rosh Hashanah creeps closer and I prepare a new, clean sheet of paper for the upcoming year, I am excited about the possibilities for that blank sheet of paper. What will I write? What colors will I used? Will there be artwork or just text? I don’t know what the page will contain but I do know that I will not settle for the first draft nor will I regret what the first draft looks like. When I get to the full page, I won’t forget the journey it took to get there or the beauty of the versions along the way that led to that final version.

Just like the clear notes in the first version of Thunder Road without the iconic harmonica, to the completely different lyrics that change from the freedom of a car to how he feels about the future, the path there is different but the song, like our lives, get us to a wonderful place as long as we appreciate the journey.

The classic version of Thunder Road

As you listen to both, I hope each speaks to you in a different way. I hope you enjoy and love each version for the message it provides and the different ways that Bruce uses to get there. That’s our blank sheet of paper. What are we going to choose to write on it? Are we going to be satisfied with the first version? If we aren’t, are we going to be critical of the early versions and not appreciate how critical they were to get us to the version we finally share with the world? Can we look at the early versions with love and appreciation rather than cringe at the things we ultimately found didn’t work and

In his Broadway show, Bruce talks about the song before playing an acoustic version of it. He talks about the blank page and how much he misses the beauty of that blank page as he has gotten older. The promise, the possibilities. As he says, “so much life in front of you.” The reality is that Rosh Hashanah gives us that blank page every year. The question is are you going to take it? Are you going to realize that we get the freedom to clean up our messes and begin fresh every year. As Bruce says at the end of the introduction, “Just daring you to write on it.”

I’d love to sit and talk with Bruce about the song. What he was thinking in that first version and why he made the changes he made. I’d love to hear his thoughts on that first version. Does he love it and embrace it as a part of who he was and how he got to where he is? Or does he hear only things he removed and think it’s a lesser version and is upset that it’s out in the public. The deep conversations that are possible from comparing an early version to a much more finished version are exciting. Just like our lives – the early, unvarnished, exploratory versions compared to the more polished, public facing versions.

Take the next few weeks to decide if you are going to dare to write on that blank page that the upcoming year offers you. No matter how old you are, no matter how much life you have behind or ahead of you, the blank page is still there. You can leave it and just look back on the prior pages and what you have written before. Or you can dare, be filled with adventure, and choose to write something new on that blank page. I know what my choice is. What’s yours going to be?

Carlos Santana, Red Rocks, Nova Music Festival and October 7th

Last night I fulfilled a bucket list item. Most people know that a bucket list is a list of things you want to experience before you ‘kick the bucket’ and leave this world. Seeing a show a Red Rocks in Colorado was on my bucket list. But not just seeing any show. I wanted to see an artist who enhanced the beautiful venue and where the venue enhanced the artist. When I saw that Carlos Santana was playing Red Rocks, I knew this was the one.

Red Rocks is outside Denver. It’s a beautiful natural theater set in a park in the mountains. As you drive in, you are captivated by the beauty all around you. Instantly, you are transformed to a magical and special place. The beauty is awe inspiring. It immediately brought me to the desert in Israel which is also captivating. The view of Masada and when on top of Masada, the view of the Dead Sea and all around you.

Red Rocks Park

We drove up the winding hills to get to the upper level parking lot and I was thinking about the drive to Tzfat and how the bus driver is always a magician with the roads and the twists and then finally parking so we can get off the bus. The old parking area where he would back up until it felt the bus was going to fall off the cliff.

We parked and began the walk to get to the venue. Once again I was transformed to Masada. Either the snake path or the Roman path has the preliminary entrance that gets you excited about what’s ahead and sometimes even a little intimidated about the climb (especially the snake path)

Making the climb up to Red Rocks Arena. What a beautiful start to the climb

We got to the area and found our seats. Wow! What a venue. As you looked around it was spectacular. There was music playing, the buzz and energy from the crowd was electric and I knew that this was going to be something special. I have many friends that have seen shows here and they all rave about the venue and how special it is. I was about to experience it and couldn’t believe it. My wife, Alison, could sense my excitement and her energy level was high as well.

The Counting Crows took the stage. I loved their music in the early 90s and had forgotten about it. As they began the play, it was still daylight and we sang and danced. You could see the people in the crowd and on the stage. It felt like a festival.

We were entranced by the acoustics, the way you could feel the music fill your soul and your body because of the venue. We danced. We sang. We were free. It was exhilerating. The sun was setting and it was changing the vibe in the venue. As we were enjoying ourselves, the people next to us leaned over and asked, “Are you from Israel?” It seemed to be a strange question in the middle of Colorado while the Counting Crows were playing, but I answered them, “No, but I just got back. Why do you ask?” They had seen my tattoos on my forearms, one saying ‘We will dance again’ and the other to remember the Nova Music festival. They were from Israel and seeing me with my tattoos, my Magen David, and my dogtags to remember the hostages and the Nova festival was very meaningful for them.

Instantly, everything transformed for me. Having been to the Nova site twice this summer, I was suddenly transformed to an American version of Nova. The people in the theater were the people at the Nova festival. The music we were enjoying and letting go listening to was the music that they were dancing to and enjoying on October 7th. Red Rocks was the desert near Gaza. As I looked out beyond the stage, the views reminded me of the views from the lower Galil just a few weeks ago as we prepared for Shabbat.

Red Rocks views that resemble the Lower Galilee in Israel

I could imagine fireworks in the air above me, what the Nova concert goers thought the rocket attacks on October 7th were. I could imagine people on hangliders flying in over the mountains to attack. I could picture terrorists coming from the bottom by the stage and from the top and sides of the venue, trapping us with nowhere to go. No chance of survival. Red Rocks had become Nova and the bomb shelters around Nova.

It was a chilling feeling and hard to let go of. Part of me knew I would never let go of it. October 7th and what I had seen at Nova and Kibbutz Kfar Aza along with in the Hamas 47 minute video are burned into my soul, into my being. I also knew that I had to let it go. As Mia Schem said, and then had tattooed on her arm after being released from being a hostage by Hamas, “We will dance again'” means we must continue to live. We cannot be consumed by the past although we can never forget it. It is why I got it on my forearm. To remember both what happened and that we must live. So I refocused. Took in the beauty around us. As the Counting Crows finished and darkness took over the arena, I looked around and found the beauty again.

Red Rocks looking up from row 25 to the back. Spectacular.

Santana took the stage and the show was more incredible than I expected. He is a musical genius, his sound unique and piercing the venue, the acoustics bouncing it all around and through us. We sang. We danced, we were overwhelmed by the experience. I said to Alison many times through the show how incredible the music was both in my ears and through my body. If you have never had that experience, it is indescribable. It took over my entire being.

I love this song and it fills my soul – last night at Red Rocks it filled my body as well

Yet throughout the concert, I kept looking to the sides and above me, just in case there were terrorists hangliding into the arena or ambushing us from the front, back, and the sides. It was surreal, almost like being in a movie waiting for the bad guys to take over the innocent civilians and then hoping the good guys would get there in time. Knowing the isolation of Red Rocks, I wasn’t secure that they would. I could channel the fear of the festival attendees waiting for the IDF to show up and rescue them and not having them come in time.

This is the reality of the post October 7th world. We have seen evil up close in a way we never have before. The way that Hamas live streamed and recorded their murders, rapes and kidnappings has never happened before. The way it touched and impacted the entire Jewish community is transformative. As a little kid, I remember watching the TV mini-series “Holocaust” and being worried about taking a shower for a day or two, wondering if it would be a shower or gas. But that was a TV show. I knew that wasn’t real. I knew that it happened 30 years prior but that those were actors I was watching. What we saw on October 7th was real. They were not actors. I have met their families. I have seen the devastation with my own eyes, touched it with my own hands, felt it deep within my own heart.

Carlos Santana said twice last night that, “It takes courage to be happy” and he is correct. Mia Schem reminded us of that when she said, “We will dance again” and got her tattoo. I have mine to always remember that. October 7th was a defining moment in both Jewish life and in the history of the world. We saw pure evil face to face. How we choose to handle it yet to be determined. The fate of not just the Jewish people but the entire world depends on it.

Santana playing The Name of Love, a great song and reminding us about love, not hate.

I can’t wait to return to Red Rocks to see another concert. Alison and I both said the same things as we walked out of the venue, ‘we need to come back’. There is something spiritual and holy about this site. Just like there is somethign spiritual and holy about the Nova site and Kfar Aza for me. Red Rocks and Nova will always be linked for me. My vow is that it is also about the future beauty of music and love and community. I won’t let the evil of October 7th ruin the future. Last night I felt like the soul of every person murdered on October 7th was there with me, celebrating the music of Carlos Santana and dancing with me.

The Nova site