Tuesday, November 13

De Doo Doo Doo De Da Da Da

We went to see The Police on Sunday night. Let me explain.

Friday night, our venerable friend Johnny e-mailed us to say he had tickets to Sunday's show. He's the best connected person I know. He gets to go to the Super Bowl, he's met Mr. T and I once saw Belinda Carlisle naked thanks to him.

Anyway. His e-mail mentions the tickets are "in a suite at the BankNorth Garden", but sadly he cannot go. I hate basketball, but I'd go watch the Celtics every night if it was from a suite like this. We virtually had the suite to ourselves. One other couple kept popping in and out. From our vantage point, the stage was straight in front at a 90° angle. Awesome.

Of course I'm too young to like The Police. My older sister liked them. Still, I knew most of the songs, and it appears that Sting still sings in the same key as 25 years ago.

Couldn't help but notice that all three of them have look-a-likes.

I don't care whether this story is true or just an urban legend. Stewart Copeland would scrawl "f - - - off" on his drum kit and imagine he was banging Sting's head while pounding out a beat.

Another Police story.
As a kid I thought the lyrics to "So Lonely", were "I feel Sue Lawley, I feel Sue Lawley"

Sue Lawley is/was a British newsreader. From the photo it should be quite obvious we are talking 1980s.

And another Police Story
1981. It's my eleventh birthday and I'm on a pedalo (that's English for Paddle Boat) in Corfu with my sister. Message in a Bottle had been a hit 2 years previous, but my sister was still listening to Reggatta de Blanc. A mile out to sea, we notice a bottle. With a message inside. My dear sister decides to jump into the sea to retrieve the bottle. Bottle retrieved she attempts to get back on the pedalo. She cannot. Instead she almost tips the damned boat over. I start crying. An 11 year old shouldn't start crying, but I'm a crappy swimmer, and the current is taking us away from the beach. Hours (probably exaggerating) later we make it back to shore with me pedalling while sister hangs on to the pedalo and does a pointless swimmers kicking motion. Happy Birthday to me. Message turns out to be some desperate Albanian, repressed by the Communist regime. Cheers Albania.

No comments: