“It is, as always, mildly jarring to be standing next to him, as though one of the heads from Mount Rushmore peeled itself off the cliff to hang out. When you’ve hardly spoken with anyone else face-to-face for months, it’s even odder. I grew up around here, too, so as we head to a covered porch, there’s some local small talk — we mourn a mutually beloved Carvel store, mentioned in his book, that’s morphed into a Dunkin’ Donuts. We settle into wicker chairs, six feet apart, across a table of white stone that overlooks a tree-lined field, where leaves are swaying in what’s left of the morning’s wind. For a man who’s born to run but more or less stuck in place, there are worse spots to be.” I mean, the rest of this edition was just to get us all tuned up for this. Rolling Stone: Ghosts, Guitars, and the E Street Shuffle: How Bruce Springsteen confronted death, saw Clarence in his dreams, and knocked out a raw and rocking new album with the world’s greatest bar band.