It started with “Sunday Bloody Sunday” in the nineteen eighties when he sang about “The Troubles” in Ireland

 “And it’s true we are immune

When fact is fiction and TV reality
And today the millions cry (Sunday, Bloody Sunday)
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die 

I 

I couldn’t believe this wonderful soul would last in the rock culture.  But every day I love him more.  He may be the only person in the world I don’t know that I want to meet, to shake his hand.

And everything he says about this country is so wise.  How is it that he manages to go his own way in a country where the soccer players wouldn’t even shake the hands of the Israelis when they were the winners.

How I love Ireland – their poetry, their souls – their music – 

but not their politics – not since WWI.

And now for a story a friend told me years ago.  She was sitting in a pub in Dublin and suddenly was shocked to recognize Bruce Springsteen sitting with another guy at a nearby table.  She couldn’t believe her eyes, waited until Bruce went to wash his hands and then approached the other fellow to ask if he wouldn’t mind taking her picture with Bruce.  He agreed and her dream came true.  She had a picture with Bruce.  She went to the counter to pay for her lunch, but the barman said, “It’s paid for, Love.  Bono took care of it.”