in cui bruce springsteen ci insegna a scrivere

nella versione live di the river che, da una settimana a questa parte, ascolto almeno una volta al giorno, bruce springsteen racconta una storia sul rapporto difficile con suo padre e sul giorno in cui ricevette la cartolina dell'esercito americano.
bruce va alla visita medica all'insaputa dei suoi, viene respinto, torna a casa, trova sua madre e suo padre al tavolo della cucina che gli chiedono dove è stato:

I said 'I went to take my physical'
he says 'what happened?'
I said 'They didn't take me',
and he said "That's good".

poi parte the river e, se non conosci the river, puoi ascoltarla qui e leggerne qui.
il punto di questa versione di the river, però, non è the river per se.
è quel that's good, che, da solo, racconta una storia parallela a quella di the river.
un that's good che fa riflettere sulla potenza delle parole, quella stessa potenza di cui parlava carver:

in definitiva, le parole sono tutto quello che abbiamo, perciò è meglio che siano quelle giuste.

o che racchiudeva nei suoi romanzi cesare pavese:

chi può dire di che carne sono fatto?

dentro poche parole, dentro tre parole francamente banali (that, is, good), bruce springsteen riesce a racchiudere il rapporto con suo padre.
quello stesso padre che gli aveva sbattuto in faccia un rabbioso when the army gets you, they're going to make a man out of you nel giro di pochi giorni si lascia scappare quel that's good.
in questo senso ha ragione elmore leonard:

if it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.

se fossi una scrittrice, o un'aspirante scrittrice, scriverei quel that's good su un foglio, l'appenderei sul muro di fronte alla mia scrivania e cercherei di ricordarmelo ogni volta che l'istinto mi dovesse spingere a sfoderare un avverbio (never use an adverb to modify the verb "said").
ma non sono una scrittrice
e nemmeno un'aspirante scrittrice
quel that's good, però,

When I was growin' up,me and my dad used to go at it all the time, over almost anything

But uhh....

I used to have really long hair, way down past my shoulders, and I was seventeen, or eighteen, Oh man, he used to hate it and we got to where we'd fight so much, I'd spend a lot of time out of the house, and in the summer time it wasn't so bad, cause it was warm, and your friends were out.

But in the winter, I remember standing downtown, and it'd get so cold, and when the wind blew, I had this phone booth that I used to stand in, and I used to call my girl, like, for hours at a time, just talkin' to her, all night long (Girls scream in crowd)

And finally, I'd get my nerve up to go home, and I'd stand there in the driveway, and he'd be waitin' for me in the kitchen, and I'd tuck my hair down in my collar, and I'd walk in, and he'd call me back to sit down with him. And the first thing he'd always ask me was 'What did I think I was doing with myself?' And the worst part about it was I could never explain it to him.

I remember I got in a motorcycle accident once, and I was laid up in bed, he had a barber come in, and cut my hair and man, I can remember telling him that I hated him, and that I would never ever forget it, and he used to tell me 'Man, I can't wait till the army gets you, when the army gets you, they're going to make a man out of you, they're gonna cut all that hair off, and they'll make a man out of you' And this was in I guess, '68 when there was a lot of guys from the neighbourhood going to Vietnam.

I remember the drummer in my first band coming over to my house, with his marine uniform on, to say that he was going, and that he didn't know where it was. A lot of guys went, and a lot of guys didn't come back, and a lot that came back weren't the same anymore, and I remember the day I got my draft notice, I hid it from my folks, and three days before the physical, me and my friends went out, and stayed up all night, and when we got on that bus to go that morning, man, we were all so scared.

And I went, and I failed. I came home (applause) It's nothing to applaud about.

But I remember coming home after I'd been gone for three days, and walking in the kitchen, and my mother and father were sitting there. My dad said 'Where you been?' I said 'I went to take my physical' he says 'what happened?' I said 'They didn't take me', and he said "That's good".

racchiude comunque una lezione di vita,
da qualche parte.