After writing a story before the tour, when I returned to work at WAtoday.com.au this week I wrote a follow-up article.
Mostly to explain why my head was not in the game, and still at Hanging Rock waiting to hear when the next concert is going to be.
Smashed by Springsteen's Wrecking Ball
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Following Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band's Australian Wrecking Ball tour has left me, for lack of a better word, wrecked.
Keeping up with "The Boss" across all of his three hour-plus shows was never going to be easy, and as many people enjoyed pointing out, may also be considered a bit crazy.
But what I didn't expect was just how addictive and exhausting the expedition would be, or how it would leave me struggling to get back to reality 48 hours later.
Not only could you see the band close up, but also carry Springsteen back to the stage during a crowd surf and strum the guitar during Born To Run, it left me hooked on grabbing the best possible position I could for the remaining six shows I had front section tickets for.
From number 121 in line, I went to 107. Then to 71, 42 and to my earliest number in line 28 - which I secured after entering the official queue for entry no less than 30 hours before the show began.
In total, I spent more than 100 hours officially waiting in line for seven of the ten shows, from the moment I received my place in line and from when the band took to the stage.
Thankfully this didn't involve me sleeping outside any venues to hold my place, it meant I could sign in early, returning to the line every three or four hours for a roll call.
With all the waiting for the other three concerts I didn't line up for - I was seated for two shows and restricted to a bus timetable for one of the Hanging Rock concerts - it basically comes to a total of five days just waiting for Springsteen and his band.
I'll admit, when you add it up afterwards I'll agree that it does sound a little crazy. Or at least I would if I hadn't heard stories of people in countries like Sweden where fans have been known to camp outside venues for five days just to secure a front row position.
But after all the waiting in line, spending more than $2000 on tickets, and travelling thousands of kilometres around the country, was it all worth it?
The answer is undoubtedly, and probably unsurprisingly, yes.
Before leaving for the concert marathon, I took in several concerts at Perth Arena including KISS, Deep Purple and Guns N' Roses, and as a fan of live music, I would stand by my belief that every single Springsteen show on the Australian tour would stand up better than any other act touring today.
And that's including the first two Sydney shows where Springsteen was visibly under the weather.
As a Springsteen fan waiting for hours to get closer to the stage the frequent talk between dozens of others in line was that until you do it, you won't understand it.
And when you do, you won't want to go back.
The atmosphere between Springsteen and the first few rows of fans was incredible. The band get in on it too, and you get to see the workings of everything E Street; from the instructions on when Springsteen changes the setlist or takes a request from a fan, or watching guest guitarist Tom Morello focus on "The Boss" to keep up with every new song he had to learn to fill in for the absent Steve Van Zandt.
Then there's the fans themselves. You don't wait in line for hours without making friends and getting to know the people alongside you to share stories of previous concerts, distances travelled to get there and other tales of commitment for everything Springsteen.
Stories such as the one about a man who travelled from the US to see the Australian tour and was threatened with divorce if he didn't return home to his wife immediately after one concert, only to be seen the next day lining up for the following show.
Once you've done it a few times you're automatically a member of an exclusive club. A club whose actions no outsider can understand.
Attending a roll call for a show 30 hours away becomes normal. Strategically planning every meal break and the time of your last drink to avoid any trips to the bathroom that might threaten your place once inside the venue also becomes a regular part of life.
It's returning to work and trying to adjust to the daily routine, not heading to a roll call at 6am or sitting on the street for a few hours writing the name of a cool, rare song on a bit of cardboard with a marker pen that could end up as a request, that becomes strange and unusual.
You've just seen the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, house-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking, love-making, le-gen-dary E Street Band.
And all you can think about is when you can see them again.
First published on WAtoday.com.au
