A Percussionist, A Pedantic Blowhard, And A Pensioner Walk Into A Bar

If there is one thing that remains true, it's that life keeps moving and you sometimes need to scramble and readjust to keep up. Take for instance, my long drawn-out one-sided love affair with the now most certainly forever defunct band, The Police. After packing up their rock 'n' roll suitcases and stepping off the tour bus without so much as a backward glance, they reemerged like a phoenix from the ashes and proceeded to break my heart all over again with their ill-timed reunion tour which was not conveniently planned around my third pregnancy like I would have hoped.

Now I fear it's time to put down the torch and take a much needed break from my starry-eyed optimism and face some home truths:

1. Sting and Stewart want to smash each other's face in if they spend more than four hours together. They can make with the warm and fuzzy for a limited time and then the gloves come off and it's back to the ribbing and ego sniping that made their brawling famous.

2. Sting is doing just fine on his own, thank you for asking. As much as it pains me to admit it, Sting is outrageously successful and fabulously wealthy. Why on earth would he go back to being one third of a democratically run slice of rock pie when he can sell out concert halls around the world and get the green light to make an album with his lute? I mean a lute! Really?

3. Stewart is better suited for the eclectic mix of work he does currently. Whether it be movie soundtracks or composing operas with a dash of Gamelan drum thrown in for good measure, his many and varied pursuits seem to fit his oddball personality and ricocheting interests. They don't call him the kinetic kid for nothing.

4. Andy Summers is really freaking old. Yes, the man is a magnificently youthful looking 69 years young but this is one pensioner who might not be around for much longer considering all the free sex and illegal substances he's dabbled in over the years.

And so it is with much difficulty and sadness that I raise the white flag and let go of my hopes for that one last tour or album and allow the fearsome blond threesome take their rightful place in the history books. There will be no nostalgic get-togethers at Sting's palatial Tuscany estate where discussions of reforming and bringing the whole world together in musical harmony will take place. Stewart will not agree to live in my basement and be my "other" husband and Andy will never take up residence in the tiny furnished gingerbread house I built in the fifth grade with him in mind. I imagine this is a world that is far more bleak than my concocted fantasy ramblings but I suppose I'll always have Duran Duran.

Beware The Beard

Prepare yourself people.

For I am a BIG fan of the previously closely-shorn pop icon gone mountain-man dangerous.

The latest star on my radar sporting full facial growth is none other than Mr. Simon Le Bon, front man for Duran Duran, father of three, husband of the equally beautiful Yasmin Le Bon, and breaker of hearts for over thirty years.

As if the general population didn't have problems restraining themselves during full-blown fantasy sessions, now we have to contend with the dirty lumberjack role playing scenario that has to be added to our repertoire of daydreams.


Put down that axe and come give me a hug!
CREDIT: The Fab Life

It remains to be seen if the facial hair survives the current media blitz Duran Duran is on while promoting their latest album but honestly, I'd be sad to see it go.

Other famous people who became instantly mysterious and irresistible to me after forgetting to shave?

Sting

CREDIT: CBS

During my long and volatile love affair with the fearsome threesome, I was always partial to the adorable, lanky, floppy-haired drummer with the sweet smile and mad skills. Post-Police breakup, I continued to fester over the loss and eventually went sour during parts of Sting's solo career. That is until I saw an image of him emerging from a heavily wooded area in the snow singing an ancient holiday song in a thick wool sweater and a mush full of manhood. All is forgiven, sir.

Ewan McGregor

CREDIT: kungfumramone

Yes, I'll admit to being impressed by this guy's acting chops in such fantastic films as Trainspotting, Young Adam, and Big Fish, but it was while sitting in the movie theater watching the Sith wipe the floor with the Jedi orders' tarnished robes that I got a pretty good idea of what I'd like to do with his light saber.

It was the appearance of the reddish brown beard paired with the ever present hint of naughty that lurked just below his sparkling exterior that did me in. Oh Obi Wan.

The Symmetry Of Spoons

Desirer Walks The Streets
by Andy Summers

Normally when worlds collide, people die. But when Rock 'N' Roll and photography knock boots and produce offspring, magic happens.

I'm fresh off of seeing Andy Summers at National Geographic Grovsner Auditorium where he showed fifty random photographs and later had a sit down and Q&A session with Mark Seliger and the audience.

Because I am a lifelong Police fan, it would be unfair of me to pretend that I'm even slightly objective about this. I will say, however, that his black and white images were well chosen, thought provoking, and beautifully shot. They really captured something you can't get if photography is not in your blood.

His royal blondness emerged from the wings after a lengthy introduction, in a fetching green and black ensemble and proceeded to lead us on a journey around the world, spinning a yarn about every shot that flashed up behind him.

Because I was having a hard time concentrating, I kept repeatedly pinching my left forearm to remind myself NOT to make the very easy leap from my chair onto the stage like the aged groupie I am. I ended up fidgeting with my too complicated scarf and trying not to make mewing noises to distract him.

All in all, a fantastic experience that explicitly asked for NO PHOTOGRAPHY under threat of bodily take down.

I wish Andy would make more of these kind of appearances as he is such a hoot to listen to, but I guess my husband summed it up best as we waited for a cab home in the frigid DC air, "what a life on that guy."

Top 20 Police Songs

For this week's Ranked!, we decided to rank our favorite Police songs:

Zenyattà Mondatta

20. "Bring On The Night"
19. "Hole In My Life"
18. "Invisible Sun"
17. "Canary In A Coalmine"
16. "Walking On The Moon"
15. "When The World Is Running Down"
14. "So Lonely"
13. "Every Breath You Take"
12. "Spirits in the Material World"
11. "Next To You"
10. "Wrapped Around Your Finger"
9. "King Of Pain"
8. "Murder By Numbers"
7. "Synchronicity II"
6. "Message In A Bottle"

Copeland Connection

Have you ever sat in your room and listened to a song by the Cure while you cried your eyes out about the woeful state of your teenage life?

Did you ever jump up and down at a small club while singing "We Got the Beat" while your Madonna knock off rags held your hair off of your face?

I KNOW at least one of you drove to the liquor store in college with your equally underaged and anxious roommates screaming the words to the Smith's "Headmaster Ritual" or "Girlfriend In A Coma".

Or maybe you spent your youth in small clubs watching bands that were destined to become supergroups (R.E.M., The Police, Squeeze) play small venues on their way up the rock and roll ladder?

Anyone get swept up in that mid '80s/early '90s whirlwind vortex that was Athens, Georgia? R.E.M.? The B-52's?

Yeah, well I was sucked into it when my own BOYFRIEND and his band moved from New York down to this indie artist haven where you could rent an apartment for as little money as you could scrape up from between your couch cushions.

Everyone was too thin, had poor hygiene, and spoke with a lilting southern drawl that put you to sleep. My loud, fast-talking New York twang was like a jolting air raid siren that upset and frightened the natives.

If you've done any of these things, you can thank a Copeland.

Yes, that's right.

You probably have no idea how much you said and did during your youth that was directly or indirectly influenced by a Copeland.

Stewart, Ian and Miles.

IRS, FBI, and the real CIA. Oh, and don't forget The Police.

This influential family had a hand in discovering, cultivating, and breaking most new talent that came out of the late '70s and the '80s.

Sometimes I suspect that we would all be living in mud-thatched huts and collecting rain water for drinking had their father not been building and destroying nations while holding the reigns over at the CIA. I feel safer knowing that his fingerprints are all over the blueprint of society but whatever.

I once joked that Sunday brunch with this clan must be rife with oneupmanship.

Can you imagine ordering your Eggs Benedict while firing off your list of things accomplished?

Copeland genetics make it virtually impossible to fail so you'd have quite a bit to work with and you'd list your achievements in rapid fire succession before someone cut you off and outdid you.

Operas, an entire era of new wave music, concerts, the best band in the whole world, the Sting brand, belly dancing, polo, soundtracks, percussion, books, world domination.

So anyway, next time you open a bottle of pinot grigio, stop for a moment and give a "thank you" toast to the Brothers Copeland and all they have quietly added to your world.

For additional information on the family that made your exsistence possible, here is a reading list:

• Stewart Copeland, Strange Things Happen: A Life with The Police, Polo and Pygmies Stewart Copeland
• Ian Copeland, Wild Thing (The Backstage, on the Road, in the Studio, Off the Charts Memoirs of Ian Copeland)
• Miles Copeland, The Game of Nations: The Amorality of Power Politics
• Miles Copeland, The Game Player
• Miles Copeland, Beyond Cloak and Dagger: Inside the CIA

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It's Complicated

Let's file this one under things you probably didn't want to know about me but are going to hear anyway. Music is a very big part of my life.

I spent my youth chasing tour buses, making posters to hold up at concerts, and plastering my room with the faces of the gods of rock/new wave/punk etc. Praying that one day the doors of that tour bus would open up with a loud WHOOSH and a priest would usher me on board, not for an exorcism, but for my wedding to the band member of my choice.

Ah youth.

There were any number of bands that made it into the inner sanctum of awesome that resided in my soul: The The, The Pixies, REM, etc. but none made an impact like the Police.