I asked her if she thinks about when Bruce Springsteen will die, and she started crying, so I did too. “I honestly can’t imagine a world without him in it,” she said. “It would make me feel even older than I already feel. It would be the end of my youth. Because even if he’s not running around onstage anymore, it’s in my head. When I see him, I’m nineteen.” How else do you get to be nineteen forever? Is there an easier way to do a quick check and remember who you are?
