Police Action

Last night, I finished reading Strange Things Happen, the autobiography of Stewart Copeland. He’s best known as the drummer for The Police, of course (and he’s my favorite drummer).

Stewart is quite a character, though, with a life lived far beyond the typical rock star experience. His father was a spy for the CIA, so he spent several years of his childhood in Lebanon, then in England, then southern California. His musical aptitude led him to the drums, and when the band that came to be known as The Police finally coalesced, I would say that his global experiences led him and the band to some distinctly non-traditional American music. One of the reasons I loved The Police was that sort of tribal beat, along with a distinct touch of reggae.

Post-Police, Stewart has gone on to make his name mainly as a composer of musical scores for movies and TV shows. His fortune made through the Police and subsequent endeavors allowed him to indulge in an expensive passion: polo. Yes...definitely an eclectic person!

I liked some of Stewart’s projects beyond The Police. One of my favorite albums is “The Rhythmatist,” in which he chronicles his travels in Africa in search of the beat (it was also a movie). It was fun to read his remarks about the movie, because apparently they just sort of made it up as they went along. The movie itself doesn’t do much for me (although the footage of him playing his drums in a cage on the savannah, surrounded by lions, is pretty awesomely cool), but I still love listening to the soundtrack.

I also enjoyed his band Animal Logic, formed with jazz bassist Stanley Clarke. Very pleasant music, with Stewart’s unmistakable sound. I love his sound, because it’s so energetic and frenetic. It sounds to me as though he has four arms, like Shiva...or maybe even ten, like Kali! He’s got so many things going on at once that it’s fun to try to listen to all the subtleties.

As with Keith Richards’ autobiography, I was fascinated by the band dynamic within The Police. Stewart writes quite a bit about their reunion tour, and as with Keith and Mick, there seems to be much conflict within the Police rank and file. Sting is obviously the superstar; Stewart recognizes that, but chafes at being told how to play his drums. (I don’t blame him.) Stewart obviously feels much love for Sting, but can only be pushed so far. There was a happy ending, as the tour wound down to them putting their differences aside and just having fun...just enjoying the magic that they could still create together. Magic, magic, maaaagic!

Also as with Keith’s book, I loved reading about the power that music has over musicians. I mean, I love listening to music, but I’m guessing that my enjoyment is maybe one-tenth of that experienced by those who actually create and play it. I can be swept away by a song...imagine playing that song to several thousand screaming fans! Stewart also mentions what he calls the “kinetic ritual” (also a song on his Klark Kent CD), in which the energy of people grooving to the same beat is gathered and magnified. (Think about seeing video of those holy roller churches, in which people get to dancing and jittering and falling down. There is always music playing.) Being the veteran of many concerts, I have to concur. There is a special energy in being in a group of fans listening to live music...I’ve exchanged many a glance with Cousin Shane at shows over the years, where we know we’re on the same page, being moved by the music, just happy to be there and to be rocking out. It really is a special feeling.

I got a chuckle out of Stewart’s almost fetishistic worship of his post-show shower. Not surprising...his playing style is so physical, and stage lights are freakin’ hot...I bet his body temperature is raised several degrees. It was always a necessity for him to have a shower, and he mentions that often enough that it’s obvious that no one had better come between him and that shower! It was also amusing to read about his kids’ excitement at getting to hang out with bands like Incubus or the Foo Fighters...kind of forgetting that their Dad is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!

A very enjoyable read. I recommend it for any fan of ‘80s music, and I think it’s a must-read for any Police fan. I’m including “Regatta de Blanc” from the album of the same name. I always had a special fondness for their instrumentals, and this one always gets me moving and singing the non-lyrics. “Ee-yay-oh! Ee-yay-oh! Ee-yay-yay-yay-yay-yeahhhhhh!” Also a nice showcase for Stewart’s drumming style. Stewart’s hair may be white rather than bleached blond now, but this is music that will never grow old.

Letting nature take its course

This looks so much like Sheeba, but it isn’t! Just some random Intarwebz cat chowing down on a bird.

I love living out in the country, but it does have its drawbacks, and there are some things that are hard to deal with. I've been snowed in during winter storms; the recent bad storms have taken their toll on several trees, although there were plenty of people in the area who had it much worse; and worst of all at times, for me, is seeing the inevitable cycle of nature. As Stewart Copeland wrote in his song "Serengeti Long Walk" from "The Rhythmatist:"

All around there are creatures as big as donkeys, eating and being eaten; it's a barnyard sound. The cycle of life and death is repeated--endlessly--undisturbed by the contaminated curiosity of humans. But there is a pattern there to see, and the point will soon be clear to me.

There have been many nights when I've heard the screams of something being grabbed and eaten. It's chilling, and my heart aches for whatever creature has just met its demise. The occasional dead squirrel shows up, and I've seen dead or dying raccoons out in the yard. Birds fly into the windows, and sometimes don't survive. I've watched as a raccoon has hung from its front paws from the deck and dropped several feet to the ground. There are a couple of does with bum legs that are return visitors to the yard, and it breaks my heart every time I see them. (Although the one with the bum foreleg is still going strong. She's been around for several years now, and I love it that she is such a survivor!) There have been bones and mauled carcasses found out in the marsh of fawns who fell prey to predators.

There have been so many times when I was tempted to intervene when I could. It's been a hard lesson for me to learn to stay out of nature's way. Nature has business to do, and part of that is living and part of it is dying. There are coyotes and foxes here...I've seen them loping across the yard. I've had people suggest that I shoot them. Not a chance. I understand the reasoning behind the suggestion; for anyone who has grown up on a farm, coyotes and foxes (and back in the day, cougars and bobcats...I'm not sure if wolves and bears were ever in this area, but it wouldn't surprise me) had to be shot to protect the farm animals, so it's an immediate reaction to such predators. I don't live on a farm. I understand that there is natural predation that needs to happen, and I'm glad that there is a fairly intact ecosystem here with predators like coyotes and foxes that keep check on other animals. As much as I love deer, I understand that they will devastate an ecosystem if they are allowed to breed unchecked. I don't hunt, and there is no hunting at Nutwood, but I understand that hunters help keep the deer population under control. Things seem to be pretty good here, with a little band of fairly healthy deer, and a fair amount of predators to keep things balanced. (There are also quite a few hawks and owls, and if I'm not mistaken, skunks will also eat small critters. Just checked...yes, they are omivorous.)

As hard as it is for me to not intervene, I understand that the best thing I can do is just stay the fuck out of the way. There are people who rehabilitate animals and are good at it--they usually have some sort of background in veterinary science, or have people close by to advise and help. (I'm thinking of my friend Lori and her family, who have taken in all kinds of critters and nursed them to a healthy adulthood. Her daughter seems to have a real knack for it.) If you don't have that knack, chances are good that you're just going to prolong the animal's agony. As hard as it is to accept, sometimes you have to understand the bigger picture and let things eat or be eaten.

If that sounds hard-hearted, you don't know me very well. I still think back to some fifteen years ago when I lived in Indianapolis and hit a cat on my way home from work one night; or when I hit a squirrel a few years ago when I was driving home in the rain; and I still remember when a tufted titmouse ran into the window and sat on the deck railing stunned, his poor little eye puffing up. I so wanted to reach out to that young raccoon I mentioned earlier hanging from the deck and help him up...but I reminded myself that these are still wild animals, and our intervention does not necessarily help. In fact, sometimes it hurts, or prolongs the inevitable.

I'm not trained in rehabilitation of wild animals, and I'm smart enough to recognize my limitations. I also don't want to create a Pet Sematary out back, because we all know how that ends up! Nature is sometimes a cruel and dirty business, and it's generally better if we just accept that and step out of the way. It's been a hard lesson to learn, but I've learned it. That doesn't mean I don't feel bad when I see something hurting or in distress. Quite the opposite. I just have a healthy respect for the natural order of things, and am inclined to let happen what happens in any sort of natural environment. You might say that I don't like to play God. [wink]

Enjoy a little Stewart Copeland (you'll find short samples of several songs there) and here is a video for you. With "The Rhythmatist," he traveled to Africa and explored various tribal rhythms as well as the amazing wildlife and environment there. It's one of my favorites.