The Police Report

Wow! The long awaited guest BLOG appearance.
Yep, it’s me, aka Hubby aka Bulldog. I feel like PJ making a cameo in LOTR – however there are definitely no Pulitzer aspirations here.
Here goes . . .

The BIG CONCERT WEEKEND was a blast . . .

. . . the morning began perfectly with Kate and me belatedly (ten years late) joining the café scene . . . then wafting around little pockets plucked from our memory . . . the local shops down the road from our first flat/home . . . the magnificence of the *BIG SMOKE* when viewed from atop Maungawhau . . . the school where I first learned to teach and view involvement in education as a privilege, a passion, and a calling.

Ahhh . . . .nothing readies the soul for a blast of 80’s music better than a nostalgic trip down memory lane (supplemented with a little nectar of the gods of course! lol).

And ready we were . . .

We caught up with a great bunch of 80’s junkies (even though I’m sure half of ‘em were still wearing plastic undies when The Police were in their heyday) found a primo spot (cheers to the uptight Security dude) and set up camp.

Lights.

Action.

And these guys really did turn on the action. Almost two hours of intense 80’s Rock/Reggae/Punk that you won’t hear on a CD.

These spirits in a material world kicked off with a message in a bottle and never looked back or took a break.

We danced! We sang! We re-lived our youth with three old rockers! Then it stopped. What? No “King of Pain”? ahhh the masters were back on stage to complete the gig.

More music. Pulsing union.

After the second encore I had the world turning circles running 'round my brain and my 80’s fix was complete.

Were they good . . ? To quote one of the plastic undie crowd, “Check it out. I’ve got goosebumps!"

I might even go out and bleach my hair now.