I feel like a kid again.  I cannot tell you all how excited I am that The Police are back together.  However, this is The Police we’re talking about and I am petrified that Stewart and Sting will get in a fistfight at tonight’s Grammy Awards, which will lead to yet another broken arm/wrist/hand for Stewart, yet another black eye for Sting, and yet another break-up by The Police.  Ahhh, but that’s the intriguing thing about this group – they never actually broke up.  They became international super-duperstars on the heels of Synchronicity, toured the world for a year or more, passed the torch to U2 at the Amnesty International show, and took a much needed break from each other after six straight years of touring and recording. 

I’ve mentioned to many friends of mine how I came to be a fan of The Police.  My childhood best friend, Greg, was blessed with a young, hip mom.  She had him when she was 20, so she was a cool MTV mom and very much into The Police.  I thought she was the coolest because she had a giant Police poster in the living room and played their records (oh yes, back in the good old vinyl days) all the time.  I was sleeping over in 1984 at the tender age of 7 when they announced their hiatus and she was bummed out, but upbeat about a reunion soon enough.  Then, two years later, our wish came true and they regrouped to record a new album.  But Stewart broke his arm falling off a horse, objected to using a drum machine on the album, and only an updated “Don’t Stand So Close To Me ’86″ resulted before the fighting began anew and the boys parted company once more. 

Still, Greg’s mom was hopeful they would get together again.  That was nearly 21 years ago and only the lucky guests at Sting’s wedding in the early 1990s saw a Police reunion.  I’ve read enough magazine articles and seen enough interviews with Stewart and Sting to come to the conclusion that they didn’t need the headaches and hassles that came with The Police.  I thought perhaps their one-off Hall of Fame induction ceremony performance 4 years ago would have to satisfy diehards such as myself. 

Well, here they are.  Together on stage in public with promises of a summer tour and I didn’t have to give up one of my kidneys or testicles (a common refrain of mine over the last decade has been “I would gladly give up a testicle to see a Police reunion.”).  I am giddy at the thought that they are a mere 4 hours away from making one of my childhood dreams come true.  And when they roll into Fenway Park this summer, I’m sure Greg’s mom will be there, too.

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