Fanzine:I Wanna Write You a Sonnet But I Don't Know Where to Start....

From PoliceWiki
I Wanna Write You a Sonnet But I Don't Know Where to Start....

By: NancyRose
Events: July 16, July 17, July 19, July 21, 2008


Prologue

More than a month has passed since I first sat down and attempted to write something...anything...that might be good enough to share here. 

But the words wouldn't come...no matter how many times I locked myself in a quiet room with no distractions.  Paralysis. Strange, since I seem to have about 1000 tourzilla-related monologues dancing around my head as I go about my day doing other things.  You would think writing them all down somewhere would be some sort of cathartic purge, no?

Thinking it might move me in the right direction, I poured through photos and read random posts from the past year at both sc.net and tp.com.  And something happened.  I cried.  Not just the "tears welled up in my eyes" kind of crying, but the full-out, can't-catch-your breath kind.  And I realized I was blocked because I had never really allowed myself to do that since the tour ended.  Sure, I cried the night of MSG (and Jones Beach 2, as well)...but that was sort of a group experience, if you will.  THIS was different.  This was more of a "what kind of hole in my life am I left with?" cry.

If this was a screenplay, with me in the starring role, this would be the scene where I have some profound moment of discovery!  But it's not.  It's "real" life -- or at least what passes for it these days -- and what I was left with after the tears had dried was a flood of emotions brought to the surface after weeks of being submerged in my subconscious.  

These days it is real life that seems surreal.  PTA meetings and school projects,  grocery shopping and housecleaning?  Ugh.

I don't dwell on it a lot, but this tour made me really notice the subtle shift my life took from active to passive when I became a mother.  Don't get me wrong...my son rocks my world in ways I never could have imagined.  I wouldn't trade being Trevor's mom for ANYTHING.  But lately I've realized that a part of myself had gone dormant...instead of being someone who has adventures, I had become a facilitator of someone else's adventures and experiences.  Which perhaps made sense when Trevor was an infant, or a toddler...but now he's nine, and it really does seem time for me to reclaim my own identity.  

Or maybe it' s just a mid-life crisis!  In any case, I'm forever grateful that Sting woke up one day with the idea to "surprise others, surprise himself," because I think the tour came just when I needed it most.  A few years earlier, I'd have still been thrilled...but I also know there's no way I could've done the extravagant amount of traveling I did to make the most of it.  I'd never been away from Trev longer than a day or two before this, and the fact he's no longer a baby definitely made it easier.  That, and the fact that he really seems totally cool whenever his parents' traveling takes them away a bit...just be sure to: a.)share any interesting stories when you return and b.) bring back a souvenir (or three)!  

One of the things I came to realize during this tour is just how much your self-esteem and confidence suffer when you focus so sharply on someone else's development that you stop thinking about your own.  I had never really "connected the dots" and noticed this before...probably because it had been so long since I put myself outside my comfort zone.  It's not that I sat inside the house all these years living like a hermit...it's more subtle than that.  I have a pretty nice circle of friends here in suburbia, but they are primarily made up of people I've met in my role as a mom.  There's a tendency to want to "blend in," since doing anything to rock the boat has ramifications not just for you, but also for your child.  So you let your personality out in dribs and drabs...loosening up when it's accepted, pulling in the reins when eyebrows are raised.  Little by little, it chips away at your true self, and it's not a long way from there to feelings of "I'm not worthy."

Those negative feelings came into play a couple of times on this tour, when crazy circumstances found me in very close proximity to Stewart, Andy and Sting and I reacted like a deer in the headlights.  I was so certain they'd blow me off ("I'm not worthy!") that I simply never gave them a chance to prove me wrong. I kicked myself the next day, and for weeks after listened to that inner voice calling me a loser.  It didn't quite square with the woman I remember being...the one who went skydiving on a lark, who traveled alone throughout the Middle East, and who worked and socialized effortlessly with the rich and famous in a previous career.  I didn't know where she went...I hadn't even realized she was gone.  Maybe because I really hadn't thought about her at all in a pretty long time. Maybe...just maybe...there's still time to find her and bring her back.

Getting to this place has been a long, gradual process, and I don't necessarily have The Answer.  But I did find some unexpected help along the way, in very unexpected places.

The Great American Road Trip/July 2008:

As with so many of my travel schemes surrounding the tour, what began as a trip to Concord, California, for Stewart's birthday had grown to gargantuan proportions and would now entail driving through five states in nine days.   (That's five...large...Western...states!)  Because, really, if you're flying from NY to California, doesn't it just make good economic sense to amortize the cost of your trip by seeing as many shows as possible while you're there?  Setting out from NY, I arrived at La Guardia only to find my flight had been overbooked.  Buh-bye 8 a.m. flight.  I'm informed there's another flight leaving at 9:30...it, too, is heavily booked, but I am given the generous offer of securing a seat for another $75.  It's that or stand-by, which would mean running the risk of arriving too late for that night's show at Shoreline.  Soooo...ka-ching!  A "slight delay" on the runway cut into my wiggle room even more, and by the time I arrived at my hotel in Cupertino I had just enough time to brush my teeth and dash out the door.   Should be no problem, right?  It's only a 10-minute drive.  HA!  Traffic turned my quick trip into a one and a half hour odyssey (serving as a cautionary tale for all the amphitheatre shows of the summer...leave EARLY or risk getting stuck in a major clusterfuck of six traffic lanes funneling into one or two lane entrances to the venues).

Two days later, I was joined by my first fellow road-tripper, Dirty Martini (a most excellent co-pilot, btw), and we headed out to Concord to celebrate Stewart's birthday.  The exuberant Charliearnold and his lovely wife, Darlene, put together quite the bash...complete with birthday cake, party hats, and decorations.  It was comical hearing the restaurant staff and other patrons saying things like "Which one of you is Stewart?" or "Stewart must really be quite a special guy!"   With all the signs and tee-shirts donned in his honor, who could blame them?  It was a great party...but when a large bunch of Nutters make it a point to be together, how could it be anything less?  

Our traveling band of Nutters was complete the next day when DM and I were joined by GinaSuperCat just in time for the Wheatland show.  Special guest appearance that night by Juan, brother of everyone's favorite Peruvian, Jose.  Juan was joining us to wave the Peruvian flag in Jose's honor.  If he was at all put off by the night's antics -- which included spectacularly bad late-night Police karaoke -- he was kind enough not to let on.    

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast with OutlandoGirl and samburusunset, we left California and snacked our way through Nevada and into Utah. Along the way, it was hard not to notice the vastness of the landscape around us, and even harder to ignore how devoid of amenities that vast landscape could be!  (Note to self: next time, gas up in California!)  We spent hours driving that never-changing highway, as morning gave way to afternoon, and afternoon soon gave way to nighttime and..gulp...darkness.  (Night vision? Uh, not so much!)  The rain began about an hour outside of Salt Lake City and, just in case there hadn't been enough adventure during our 12 hours on the road, our Mapquest directions got sketchy just as we reached the last leg of our journey. 

With the help of Gina and her trusty Blackberry, we arrived at the Hotel Monaco, and were escorted to a room so lovely and spacious it could make a New Yorker cry!  We liked that room so much that we never left it until it was time to meet The Equalizer the next day for a pre-show dinner.   It was great spending time with EQ (who, it must be said, is a real sweetheart), and, especially, watching him and Gina have their first front-row experience.  

The next day we plowed through Utah, Wyoming,and, finally, into Colorado, coincidentally finding ourselves smack dab in the middle of a convoy of familiar red trucks and a tour bus that turned out to be that of the Elvis Costello crew.   We rolled into the lovely town of Golden just in time to meet up with a sizable group of other traveling Nutters, as well as St. Jeff and the legendary Pecos.   Looking none too glamorous after roughly 10 hours on the road, we were still welcomed exuberantly by the noisy crew.  Meeting up with this bunch -- whether it's folks you've met before or those you're meeting for the first time -- always feels like coming home, and this was no exception.

Pecos has come complete with an incredible array of memorabilia that she is "gifting" to those of us gathered around the table.  She's got amazing stuff, and her generosity and kindness makes you feel as welcome as you could ever hope to feel.  She's a hoot, but it's also clear she's got a huge, gorgeous heart.  Jeff is lovely, fun and down to earth...a real mensch!  Spending time with these two is really a privilege and a pleasure, and I can't help thinking that it also speaks volumes about the kind of man Stewart is.  You can learn a lot about someone by the company he chooses to keep.  

The crowd was buzzing, which I first thought might be due to tequila but soon learned was NOT, in fact, alcohol induced.  It seemed there had been some pretty mind-blowing news during dinner.  According to Pecos, Stewart wanted to meet us all!  ((Even typing that just now makes me sort of shake my head in wonder!)  No one knew for sure when this would happen, but as the night winded down and we said goodnight, Pecos advised us to "just be ready."  Well, sure...why not??

I remember downplaying the idea in my head...telling myself it probably wouldn't happen.  I'm not exactly sure whether this was to protect myself from disappointment if it fell through or whether it was my own way of keeping my head from exploding.  Either way, I was up early the next day (a mere two hours after going to bed).  Way too excited to sleep!  Perhaps because she'd been through this before, DM had no such problem...so I tip-toed out the door in search of coffee and equilibrium.  

Shortly after noon, the call came.  Be at the Will Call office at the base of Red Rocks Amphitheatre at 4 p.m.  We've been invited by Stewart to attend the soundcheck.  (Still. Just. Simply. Amazed.)  It's a good thing these opportunities tend to present themselves in sort of a last-minute way.  Can't imagine the mass of anxiety and nerves I'd have been if there was more time to think about it!  Instead, there's simply time to dress and head out the door, pretending it's the most ordinary thing in the world!

We arrived at the Will Call area right on time and stood around waiting for the rest of our group to gather.  Also there were winners of the Unitus and Citibank auctions, and, I think, some friends/family of crew members.  After waiting a bit, one of the Unitus staff arrived, sorted out the various groups and loaded each one into a minivan that would take us up to the venue itself.  

After being transported to the area outside the stage, we were asked to wait with our groups.  I remember talking with Gina while we waited, both of us finding it hard to believe where we were, and sort of joking that we'd probably be too scared to do anything other than blend in to the background.  Sort of joking. Inside, I could feel myself already having regrets about missing another opportunity.  I was so certain I'd be struck speechless and helpless to do anything other than observe others around me be part of the moment. As we talked, we agreed to "buddy up" and do what we could to help each other overcome our timidity.

What I also remember thinking is that my voice was pretty raspy after singing and hollering at four previous shows.  I could barely sustain a note during our car trip...no way I'm singing with The Police.  No way.  

Finally, we're ushered into the venue.  Everyone is gathered around the front of the stage, just watching as the crew is setting up.  I think Sting was the first band member to come onto the stage, but I honestly can't remember noticing.  Stewart appeared shortly after, and Andy followed, looking slightly as if he was just coming out of a nap.  At some point, a small group of Nutters went over to talk to Stewart at the edge of the stage, and after awhile Pecos motioned all of us over.  There were, I believe, about 15 of us.  Now, Stewart could have just addressed us all as a group...but instead he made a point of being introduced to each of us. I will never forget what an impression it made on me as he listened to us state our names and, after each one he'd repeat it, as if committing it to memory.  He makes incredible eye contact when he speaks to you, and his voice is surprisingly calm and gentle.  Basically, he really puts you at ease...as if you're meeting a friend (freind?) rather than STEWART COPELAND, DRUM GOD.  It takes you back a little, but in the best way possible. 

Soon it's time to get started.  Sting says a few words to welcome the crowd, and says "So who's going to sing with us?"  The groups informally confer and whisper amongst themselves, deciding who feels brave enough to respond.  After a while, Andy comes over to Sting, points at me and says "I want HER to sing."  Who ME??   I looked around to see if it's possible he's actually gesturing to someone else...but, no, apparently there's no mistaking it when someone is a couple feet away and looks you right in the eye while pointing at you!  (What IS it with these guys and their pointing, anyway?)  I made a feeble response about having left my voice in Salt Lake City, while Andy nodded his head.  

I should probably add here that Andy and I had some sort of...something...going on for awhile now.  It began in Buffalo, I think.  He would wink, I would wave.  I would raise my camera, he would pose.  When he spotted me at Shoreline, he waved and smiled, with a look on his face that seemed he was saying "Hey, it's you again!"  And so it went, for the rest of the week.  And now this.

Meanwhile, a woman from one of the other groups (Citibank?) has taken the stage to sing "Message In A Bottle."  While she's singing, I'm thinking. "I CAN'T. My voice is shot.  I'll be too embarrassed."  Same old voice of self-doubt.  But then more thoughts.  "This is like some great cosmic do-over.  When are you gonna get a chance like this again?  If you don't do this, you'll be kicking yourself for a VERY long time."

I started feeling that I really DID want to do this.  The woman from Citibank did a great job, but what struck me most while I watched her was that she was the only person from her group who went up to sing.  Gulp.  I did want to do this, but I sure didn't want to be up there all alone.  I tried casually recruiting other Nutters from those around me...not much luck.  I didn't really want to let on too much that I needed someone to do this with me, but I also remember thinking "Chatchka sings!!"  And hoping she would just step up without much coaxing.  

The next two groups did their thing, and suddenly Sting was calling for "Stewart's Nutters."  My feet began moving before my brain could object!  With me were Chatchka, shyvixen, and a friend of Pecos (whose name I'm sorry I can't recall).  Sockii and Vespapod were on a second microphone alongside us.  Sting asks us what we want to sing, then suddenly he begins noodling around on the bass.  The tune is familiar...but at first I'm too nervous to place it.  It seems like...Klark Kent?  Yes?  Oops, it's over now...better pay attention to whatever comes next!  

We're going to sing "Can't Stand Losing You!"  Okay, one of my favorites! 

As we positioned ourselves around the mic, I worried I would forget the words.  There was a teleprompter with the lyrics...but my vision, even corrected, kinda sucks and I wasn't sure I'd be close enough to actually see it.  Well, too late for that, the band is playing and off we go!  Pretty early on, I noticed Jeff Seitz watching from the side of the stage.  He caught my gaze and gave me a great big smile and a thumbs-up!  Don't know if you realized this, Jeff, but that small gesture really helped my nervousness melt away.  This was begining to feel like fun!  I sang, I danced...I didn't jump off the stage when sockii's all-powerful CHA! exploded off to my left!  All in all, a really really moment...one of those rare experiences that actually is just as cool when it happens to you as you imagine it to be when you read about it happening to someone else.

The song ends, and suddenly Sting is there, smiling and holding my hand as we exchange a few words.  He continues to thank the rest of our group, says "That was just great," and then calls out "Your friends rock, Stew!"  I walk across the stage to Andy, shake his hand and then, possessed by some not-shy-demon, say "Can I give you a hug?"  He gives me a big smile, a hug and a kiss.   Now I'm like a woman on a mission, and I walk towards the drum kit to talk to Stewart.  He says we did a great job and asks if it was fun.  I tell him it was REALLY fun, and ask if he had a good time, too?  (Seriously, you can't make this stuff up!)  He mentions seeing us a lot this week, and I say something back about his birthday, and the next thing I know we're talking about how old is TOO old to take up drumming!  

Being the last group, we were able to linger quite a while, but eventually it was time to leave.  Those of us with cars went down to move them to the correct parking area, and then joined a large gathering of very happy Nutters at the venue restaurant.  

A couple hours later, I looked around the audience while waiting for The Police to take the stage. I saw Nutters everywhere, all wearing huge smiles.  It had been a perfect day, and the experience was all the better for being able to share it with this crazy crew that's become like a family to me.  I stood at my seat two rows from the very stage I had been standing on earlier and let the feeling wash over me.  I had stood...right there...and sung with this band I have loved forever.  Just two years ago, the idea of even seeing THEM on that stage was an impossible dream.  And yet here we are.  It's been quite the ride and we've sure come a long way!  

It's not everyday that your dreams come true, but this was indeed one of those days.

THANK YOU,JEFF and PECOS, for making dreams become reality.  

THANK YOU, DM and GINASUPERCAT, for being the best road buddies a girl could ever hope for.

THANK YOU, ALL YOU NUTTERS, for being the awesome group of people you are.  

THANK YOU, STING, for making the call. 

THANK YOU, ANDY, for forcing me to step out of my own way and seize the moment!

THANK YOU, STEWART, as always, for everything.  You are one in a million! 



Return to Table of Contents