Glory Days

For the lyrics of "Glory Days," click on this

I had a request to talk about the Bruce Springsteen song “Glory Days,” and since the song has become prescient in my life for two reasons, I’ve decided to oblige. And while I will definitely devote an entire column to the Boss in general, today I will keep it just to this song.
The requester interprets the song as addressing the myth of the 60s—a kind of golden age, Edenic period that is, unfortunately, only a myth. I have a much different interpretation of the song. I see it as referring to a different myth: the myth of High School as a golden age in every individual’s life. Many of Springsteen’s big songs have an anthemic quality that makes them sound like freedom loving, life affirming, adventurous declarations of independence. We all sing along to the choruses, but underneath the veneer of growling guitars, the verses hide a much darker side full of despair, regret, and uncertainty. “Glory Days” is one of those songs.
Springsteen always fills his songs with immediately recognizable characters. And who among us doesn’t know, or at least can’t imagine, the kind of character of the first verse? This is the high school sports star who probably made it all the way to the State tournament. He dreamed of making it to the big leagues, but didn’t even make it to college ball. Get a few drinks in this guy and he’ll start telling the same old stories about his high school glory days.
The second verse gets even darker; the high school prom queen, popular girl, maybe even head cheerleader, is now a depressed divorced mom. But one thing is guaranteed to pick up her mood—talking about those good old days when her world offered seemingly limitless possibilities, when she could have her pick of any boy, and before she picked the wrong one.
And is it just a Jersey thing, or does the emphasis on drinking in this song sound a little scary? I won’t diagnose all the characters in the song as alcoholics, but they do seem to drown their sorrows in the bottle, especially in the first verse. The baseball player is walking out of the bar, but presented with an opportunity to reminisce, he heads back into the bar.
And what about that narrator? I think of him as not a popular guy in high school. I imagine him as guy just on the outside of all the cool cliques. But he was still there and he can still reminisce. And more importantly, he can bump up Baseball Boy and Pretty Girl’s egos when he supports their version of high school history.
The last verse really sums up the theme of the song. We don’t necessarily want to live in the past, but of course we all end looking back to some extent. We hope that we find something to do in life that surpasses what we did in our youth, but inevitably “time slips away and leaves you” with nothing but memories of those lost glory days.
Now, every individual might have different glory days. Some of us definitely did see some glory in high school. Others might have to wait for college. But high school does seem to get mythologized more than any other period. Look at American Graffiti, Grease, or any John Hughes movie. High schools are generally small enough to afford good chances for any kid to shine. But they also have enough hormonal angst to drive those individuals to outshine their peers.
Does Bruce have a warning for us in this song? Is he telling us that success in youth will create unhappiness later in life? That if we peak too early, we’ll end up depressed? Should we all skate along in the middle of the pack, and then we won’t end up bitter about our unrealized potential?
Yesterday I had coffee with someone I knew in high school and even back to middle school. We did a little reminiscing about high school, but fortunately we both had news about college triumphs and opportunities for the future. And I admit that I had some motivation apart from just wanting to talk to this girl about the general state of the world—I wanted to reminisce. I’ve stayed in touch with some old friends beyond the expiration date of the relationship precisely because I want an opportunity to reminisce. It takes two to tango, right? Well, it also takes two to reminisce about glory days. Sure, we can all revel individually in our memories, but laughing and talking about them with friends (or even enemies) will always be better. And I believe this represents a big part of why we value old friendships and go to high school reunions. We want to reminisce. And we need another person to answer the questions, “Did that actually happen? Were we actually that crazy? Were those days actually that glorious?”
The other reason for the pertinence of this song to my life is my new theatrical project. It’s called Vanities, and it looks at three friends across a span of ten years. In the final scene, the friends gather after a few years of not seeing each other and attempt to reconnect. One of the girls definitely sees their high school cheerleading time as glory days. One girl cut the chord and has found bigger and better things. My character gets stuck somewhere in the middle; recognizing the value of glory days but hoping that she can move beyond them.
“Glory Days” does depend slightly on the image of high school in the 50s and 60s: high school’s ultimate Golden Age. High school has certainly changed a lot, primarily in that we've raised the stakes dramatically. Success in high school now does matter, and AP classes, college paranoia, and 16 year-old pitchers with multiple shoulder surgeries have sucked a lot of the carefree fun out of high school. For another great picture of high school glory days, take a listen to “Night Moves” by Bob Seger, the Springsteen of Michigan.