Truth Hits Everybody!

As much as I tried to maintain the mystery and not write about it right away, I know the news will be out there soon, so continuing to refrain (and those who know me know that when I have something to say, no matter how stupid it is, I speak first and think later) from sharing these tidings with you all is no longer necessary:

Sadly, Stewart Copeland and I just couldn't work things out.

I know, I know: it's hard for you to understand.

But the more I looked at it, the more impossible it seemed.

For one thing, I have a perfectly wonderful, talented, drummer-husband already. Granted, he does have one flaw (he's not short, but, also? He's not tall); however, Stewart's flaws - I think he he has children my age; we've never actually met - far outweigh Patrick's. Even with Patrick's blessing, expecting to get lucky and find two terrific men in a row was just too much to ask. Who knows what problems we would've have encountered? What would I have done if it had turned out that other than loving Stewart Copeland, we had nothing in common?

I mean, yes - there would certainly have been exhilaration and goosebumps and butterflies, and all that wonderful stuff, and giving that up without even really trying does seem... a waste. Walking away is always hard, isn't it. Getting back to normal will take some time, but I'm sure I can do it.

[You people know I'm kidding with all this, right?]

...

OK: back to reality.

The concert itself was awesome. Yes, there were strange moments: I'm sure I annoyed the woman sitting in front of me when, after they finished up "Don't Stand So Close To Me," I exclaimed, "OK, great guys, now let's do it one more time IN THE RIGHT FUCKING KEY." The slow tempo of "Truth Hits Everybody" was disturbing. Of course there were things I didn't like: the "sting-ification" of some songs, but that's just because I don't like Sting. I don't buy his solo albums, I don't want to hear him play the lute: his music and his style doesn't do it for me. So yeah, of course I didn't like it. But it was thrilling to be there, and just because I don't like him doesn't mean the rest of it wasn't amazing. I was really happy to be there.

Our seats turned out to be not half bad: we were a mile (or maybe two, I'm not sure how big Dodger Stadium actually is) away, but we were dead center. There were maybe 10 rows behind us, not the wall I had imagined. And the t-shirt, while pricey, wasn't as expensive as I expected.