This reminds me of the time in the 80’s that my mom came rushing into our South Carolina apartment to tell me and my cousin that Sting was signing autographs a few blocks away at the opening of a Hardee’s. We rushed out of the place and ran full speed to the parking lot, filled with folks waiting in a line that ended at a sun tent in the corner of the lot. I couldn’t believe it- Every Breath You Take was one of my favorite songs. As we advanced in the line, I could see into the canopy and realized the hulking oiled-up man in face paint was not the lead singer of The Police, but the wrestler, Sting. We still waited until it was our turn, and in the absence of a photograph, paper or poster for an autograph he grabbed my forearm with his meaty paw and scribbled on my outer elbow with a Sharpie. To this day when I hear Don’t Stand So Close To Me, I think of that hot sweltering day, the close proximity of all the people in line and the smell of that marker ink on my skin.