I want to be John Springsteen.

Dot collecting. I probably got the wrong end of the stick, driving myself doolally, scouring the internet for the cultural monoliths of our capital, convinced I needed to craft a gallery of dots that even Damien Hirst would tip his hat to.

But as I began assembling dots like a teenager with a hankering for chips, I realised they’re everywhere — even on the sofa in front of the box. Inspiration doesn’t just come from a son giving his dad a vinyl at Christmas or sculpted marble. It comes from people. Two such people struck me recently and haven’t let go: John Candy and The Boss himself, Bruce Springsteen.

John Candy was an Olympus of Hollywood superstardom when I was a nipper. Whether it was his charming annoyance in Planes, Trains & Automobiles or the irreverent, bumbling warmth of Uncle Buck, his true character shone through every role — someone I could look up to and, eventually, see bits of myself in. So when I spotted I Like Me, the documentary, my thumb went straight through the play button.

‍SCTV - YELLOWBELLY (The Biggest Coward In The West)

It gave the clearest window into his life — the euphoric highs, the stomach-aching lows. His childhood through his early comedic days on SCTV (the Canadian SNL), doing sketches that helped shape a new wave of comedic storytelling. One sketch — Yellowbelly (The Biggest Coward in the West) — had me howling, mostly because it perfectly personified my first couple of weeks at SCA: nervously approaching tasks, shooting from the hip, hoping for the best.

But what gripped me most was how, even in the pit of creative and personal turmoil, Candy left joy in his wake. His talent crossed borders and generations, leaving an indelible mark that millions could believe in. Isn’t that what we’re trying to do here?

I then found myself alone at the Everyman watching Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere, armed with buttered popcorn. I didn’t know much, beyond chanting Born in the USA a few too many times, thanks to my NYC roots. I was in the woods with the rest of his work, especially Nebraska. As a Guardian reviewer said, the film shows how “the excuses of youth start running out and demons start catching up” — something that hits a little harder in your early (ahem) 30s. Practising gratitude and making the pivot to come here have been my own ways of keeping youthful creativity alive while shaping purpose.

Springsteen managed that too, holed up in a bedroom with basic kit, turning darkness into light — isn’t that also what we’re aiming for?

Both left me staring at the screen through tear-soaked eyes. Two giants of creativity, different crafts, same humanity and drive to push originality into the world.

That’s what it's all about.

I’m Harry first — but now, a little bit fuelled by John and Bruce.

If you don’t like that, then in the immortal words of Uncle Buck: “Take this quarter, go downtown, and have a rat gnaw that thing off your face!”.

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