Living with…The Police…for a week

1987. I’m getting married in an hour. We are racing to the church in my brother’s car, but there is no need to speed as we’re not late.  We are blowing away the tension of the morning’s preparations.  The sun is hot, so hot and there is a wedding guest’s car on our tail that we’re trying to shake off.  Don’t know why, it just appeals to us at the time. 

In the sticky heat we shift uncomfortably in the hired suits.  Have we forgotten anything?  My brother pats the ring yet again.  We can both feel our speeches handwritten on cards weighing heavily in out jacket pockets.  The speeches, oh the horror of the speeches…its not the wedding ceremony that frightens us.  We’ve wound the windows fully down to blast our senses and I can vaguely hear music in the background.

As we turn in to the edge of Poynings village, only five minutes to go I hear a familiar chugga chugga sound from the speakers.  I glance briefly at my brother and then turn the volume up as loud as we can stand.

chugga chugga chugga chugga

And then we bellow out along.


We are smiling, the tension seeping out from our bodies. 


The breeze from the open windows continues to blast us as we turn in to the main village. Heads turn at the blast from the more than adequate stereo in the back of the car…

chugga chugga chugga chugga

The song finishes as we park up.  We turn to each other and say nothing.  Nothing to say – we have at least forgotten the speeches momentarily. 
Just to one side we can see the wedding photographer, Hitchcockian like, waiting for us.  A nod.  Here goes…

1980.  Don’t Stand So Close to Me hits number one on the Sunday evening, and clearly everyone in my class has avidly consumed this song about school and love ready to argue about it on the Monday.

 The school playground is buzzing with chants of “Don’t stand so close to me” with accompanying shoves and gestures.  Almost universally, the lyrics have been converted in to a chant about B.O..  What else would a gang of teenage boys turn this song in to?  What other meaning could it have?

I’m in an all boys school so none of us will claim to understand stories of teacher/ children crushes.  There’s only one female teacher in the school, a scary Madame who terrorizes us in French lessons, skirts rustling as she moves around and leaving a trail of perfume and talcum powder in her wake.  No school boy crush there, or not that I was aware…

So the song I remember from my wedding day is an obsessive rant by Sting as his marriage broke up.  And all I remember of a school day are the denial of schoolboy/girl crushes buried beneath the familiar brawls of the playground.  Gosh, I was perceptive back then…

I’m now spending a week with Synchronicity and that song from my wedding day.  It was a needed break in the day! Every Breath You Take is still a sublime piece of music. 

As with every Police album that I’ve heard before there are moments of brilliance and not so – frankly, I could leave the first half of the album.  But I love the second half – It has much more space in the music and that’s what the group did so well, and it ends on probably my two lesser known favourites – Tea in the Sahara and Murder by Numbers.

I uhmed and aahed for a couple of microseconds before selecting this as my video clip of the weekend.  Listen to the lyrics again…gosh, he did have a problem with his ex-wife…

Operation Zero Inbox

The diet analogy still stands – its relatively easy to shift the initial stuff, and then you have to struggle to shed the rest.  Cough cough – maybe there will be more progress next week…maybe not the right one to get it down to zero (see Living with…Radiohead..for a week).

Gleewatch: Thanks to Mercedes and Emma for stunning performances as Glee went Rocky Horror this week to produce the best episode of the series so far. Did you spot the guest appearance from Meat Loaf?

See also Living with…Meat Loaf…for a week Part 1 and Living with…Meat Loaf…for a week Part 2