On the east coast, in particular, ticket buyers got redirected from TicketBastard to the even nastier bastards at TicketsNow. For those unaware, TicketsNow is essentially one of those ticket broker sites that can get you premium seats — for those willing to pay prices up to triple or more of their face value. TicketBastard apparently has some sort of business arrangement with these fine folks.

Super Bowl and Obama inaugural triumphs aside, Springsteen himself hasn't had a great month anyway. The new album has gotten mixed reviews, and he recently apologized to fans for selling a new greatest hits package exclusively at the decidedly labor-unfriendly retailer WalMart.

This week, Springsteen and his management had to apologize again for the TicketsNow debacle, which is something that, as a fan, I give him all due credit for doing.

In fact, this in turn prompted a counter-apology from TicketBastard CEO Irving Azoff, in which he went so far as to offer those fans who got stiffed by the TicketsNow re-direct to make up the difference on the inflated prices they ended up paying.

Anyway, all of this got me to thinking back about how different purchasing tickets used to be back in the old days.

In Seattle, this usually meant going down to the Fidelity Lane ticket office, looking at a seating chart, and haggling over what seat you preferred with the nice ticket lady at the counter. Choice meant standing in lines that were long at times, often behind a family buying tickets to the Ringling Brothers Circus or the Ice Capades. In a lot of ways, it was a real pain in the ass. But it worked.

Most importantly here, you still had choice. In other words, no computer generated "best available" bullshit, which at 10:02 on game-day can mean seats somewhere between the roof of the venue and just due south of Max's drum-riser behind the stage for an act like Springsteen. Which is exactly what I had to look at when I tried to get tickets for the nearest Springsteen show to my house — some 900 miles away in San Jose, California.

Hardcore fan that I am, I reluctantly passed.

Speaking of Springsteen, I can also remember spending the night in many a ticket line for every Bruce tour between The River and Tunnel Of Love. The way the drill went here was that you showed up the night before at the ticket office with the essentials of sleeping bag, beer, and Bruce tapes (this was in the pre-CD era). And then you stayed up all night getting drunk and listening to Springsteen with your fellow Bruce fans.

Article Author: Glen Boyd

You'll find Blogcritics assistant music editor Glen Boyd sharing his Thoughtmares on his personal blogs The World Wide Glen, and The Rockologist. In a previous life, Glen was a music professional and journalist whose work has appeared in The Rocket, SPIN, Pulse!, and The Source. …

Visit Glen Boyd's author page — Glen Boyd's Blog