For those not on sting.com...
Here's my shortened (believe it or not) reflections of a geek in LA!!! I heard there's a photo of three very happy ladies (Maggie, Kathy and me) on Kathy's review, but I don't have the photographers permission to post, so you'll have to trust me, there were lots of teeth showing! : ) Michelle Finally, Central Texas, checking in. Had to put out several fires and jump right into mom mode when I arrived home Tuesday night, but at least I wrote my thoughts down on the flight home. 13 pages worth. I haven't seen the webcasts or reviews (didn't want to be influenced by other perceptions of the event), so I'm dying to hit send on this in order to check it all out. I tried editing it down in between the ticket sale panic and orthodontic appointments, but it's still lengthy, sorry. So here goes... Friday am: Michelle awakens kids (and probably neighbors) with blood curdling scream when checking emails. My boys want to know where the snake is. No snake, just the Golden Ticket! The 12 year old comments "Mom---it's not that big a deal". THIS from my music loving son---wonder when he'll "get it"? The rest of the day is jam packed with emotions, stress, and lots of support from my friends and family to help me realize this dream. The gods are on my side, I somehow manage to chauffeur my kids to tennis and basketball events without crashing into anything on Friday and Saturday (oh, they need to eat?) and find myself in LA Sunday anticipating the Grammy performance. The delayed airing was pure torture for us Pacific Coasters, by the way! The only acceptable option for me (next to attending the Grammy's) was to experience the show in a place that brought me great solace back when I sensed my own memories of the Police slipping away. Had to be at the Backstage Cafe surrounded by Police history and die hard Police fans. A great gathering, and the extra round (thanks, Kevin!) certainly helped me fall into at least a few hours of much needed sleep. Think we were all in the same boat. Sleep was restless, and anticipation had us arriving at the Whisky bright and early Monday am. The flurry of activity around the venue had me counting the minutes until we walked through those doors! Media trucks, camera crews, interviews, then the limos. Stewart... Andy..... Sting. Finally realizing that this IS going down, I try to conserve my mental and physical state by closing my eyes and propping my body against the outside of the Whisky. All of a sudden, that familiar drumming starts penetrating my body right to the core. Stewart's drum kit must be right there on the other side of the wall! Ever seen grown women grope a wall? I have photos and am taking bribes... The mind starts to wander... I'm thinking maybe we should bring back those old vibrating hotel beds with that drum rumble we're getting from the wall instead. Sting's not the only one with a "certifiably insane" moment! Shortly after, we start hearing Andy's guitar, Sting's muffled voice. This IS happening, I AM here. The out of body experience begins. In we go. Securing a spot dead center, and a person back (darn media!) had me whimpering "Oh My God" for at least 5 minutes. On any other day, I would have been intimidated being surrounded by the press and celebs. Elvis could have been standing next to me, but at this moment, all I wanted to do was take it all in and etch it in my brain. The banners, Andy's guitar, Sting's throat spray, the drums.... Aaaagggghhhhhhh!!!! Yes, the absence of my camera was killing me! Lightheadedness sets in. I'm wondering if Fall Out Boy standing behind me will just use me as a step stool when I go down or be kind enough to revive me so I don't miss this. I finally employ those never used Lamaze techniques and regain control just in time. They came out, and you'd think I was back in 1982 at my first Police concert. I was most taken by Stewart's expression of unadulterated joy being back with Sting and Andy. From there, thoughts of Ian Copeland then ran through my head. Can't help but think that he posthumously urged Sting to make that historic phone call. Only one person knows that answer, and I don't care what made him pick up the phone. I'm just beside myself that he did!!! Loved the banter between the boys, calling out the chords, Andy getting riled up due to the camera man in his way, Stewart's attentiveness to Sting's lead. Presume it was taking every ounce of restraint on his part to temper that energy and not race off. As Sting said, maybe Stewart has changed! Hope not too much though. Slipping into "google mode" for some of you ladies--- They all look great this close up and jeesh, I think Andy has the bluest eyes I've ever seen! Thank goodness they didn't follow the Keith Richards guide to living like a rock star. They looked and sounded amazing! So... wish #1 has been granted, they're back together. Wish #2 granted. Voices was my top choice for a "non die hard" worthy addition to the set list. Never thought I'd here it here, but was holding out for the tour. Hearing that intro had me quaking in my shoes. Wish #3 granted. Fiction Plane is opening! I have now reached nirvana. Why isn't this event on my wish list? Never thought something like this would be open to "us", and would have never imagined I'd be one of the lucky ones drawn to attend. I generally don't wish for the impossible, and should have taken a reunion off the master wish list years ago. Glad I was proven wrong! One thing I've reflected on since this is that my passion for this band has been what's kept me young (at heart, anyway), allowed me to broaden my horizons, and has helped me evolve into who I am. I think we all need a passion for something, whether it's a band, hobby or cause. I've always felt a bit childish and silly holding on to this passion awakened when I was 15, but hot damn, I'm glad it never died. A new passion born from this experience--- I love LA!!! My band is back, and I was there. I hate to be repetitive, but OMG!!! My deepest gratitude to the powers that be for including some of us to share in this historic event. I know there were so many of us equally as deserving of this honor, so I truly feel like the luckiest lady in the world. The last message my sister frantically left me enroute to Munich: "Whatever you do, don't cry." When The Police (again----OMG !!!!) hit the stage, a quick glance around, men included, confirmed her suggestion was impossible for me to follow. I certainly wasn't the only one driven to tears.
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