Sing us a song, you’re (Bruce) the Piano Man

Yes, they’re sharing a drink they call loneliness

But it’s better than drinkin’ alone

Day four of social distancing brought with it a connection to the past that made the present a lot more pleasant thanks to a man, his piano, his wife, and Facebook Live.

At least for those of us who went to Purdue in the 90s and the 2000s.

You see, Bruce Barker was better known as the piano man at one of the most popular Purdue bars, the Neon Cactus, during the formative years of, well, thousands of us who are now actual adults with real responsibilities that we didn’t have back when we were drinking mixed drinks from Cactus Cups and stressing out over things like exams and which house we were going to get paired with for Homecoming.

Word got out on Thursday night in the midst of a global pandemic unlike anything we’ve ever experienced that Bruce Barker was doing a live show and he was doing it for free and the absolute best part of all of this was we didn’t have to go back to Purdue to see it, rather we could watch it from the comfort of our own homes.

He says, “Son, can you play me a memory
I’m not really sure how it goes

So Bruce played as his wife filmed him on Facebook Live, not expecting much.

Then a funny thing happened — People who were watching started sharing it with, well, everyone they could. And thousands of us who were desperate to cling to something that made us feel good about the world rushed to our computers to make sure we didn’t miss this.

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man’s clothes

Bruce took us on a trip down memory lane. Knowing his audience was mostly comprised of people who saw him during his — and our — glory days back in the 90s and 2000s, he played tunes like “Wonderwall” and “Baby Got Back” for an audience that grew up on him playing those tunes.

Old college classmates got in touch with each other because this is the kind of thing you didn’t want someone who was with you in your glory days to miss and also, well, you hadn’t checked in with some of your old friends for awhile and what better excuse than a Bruce the Piano Man concert?

It’s a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile

At its peak, Bruce Barker had more than 14,000 people tuning in, most — if not all — Purdue alums reliving their college days who were later to the party than they would’ve liked but didn’t want this party to end. All this on a Thursday night when most of us, long past our glory days, should have gone to bed and tended to the myriad other responsibilities that come with not being in the springtime of our lives.

Bruce could’ve kept playing for hours. He should’ve kept playing for hours because, well, the world needs more people like Bruce Barker in times of dread and uncertainty.

But Bruce, a Purdue legend if there ever was one, is a human being and one who is susceptible to the vagaries of life brought on by one too many Fireball shots, as he informed his captivated audience.

And so, after indulging us for far longer than we had any right to expect, Bruce shut things down, promising all of us who were wishing he’d play something, anything at all while we were releasing the lightning in a bottle that he had helped us recapture, that he’d be back.

Sing us a song you’re the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we’re all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright

Bruce Barker in his heyday used his piano skills to bring unspeakable joy to generations of college students during their formative years. Tonight, he brought some semblance of hope to those same college students, now aged and facing some of the most uncertain times of their lives.

Cause he knows that it’s me they’ve been coming to see

to forget about life for awhile.

So tonight, a toast to you, Bruce Barker the Piano Man. For being a constant presence at one of the best bars from our college days. For showing a talent and a versatility to play any song that anyone ever requested of you.

And for giving tens of thousands of us who are long past our college primes a reason to forget about life for awhile.