Being first and foremost a lover of classical music, I can’t say I ever really paid much attention to The Rolling Stones. Except that their overwhelming success, iconic members and sheer endurance are hard to miss. You’d have to be living under that proverbial rock to not at least be aware of these long-time rockers.

Nonetheless, I came late to the party, being in my late teens when I first really noticed The Stones. It was courtesy of an acquaintance at university, during the time when the group was riding to our collective “Emotional Rescue” on a fine Arab charger. She was the one who introduced me to Charlie Watts. Specifically, his arms. She raved on and on about “Charlie Watts’ arms” and how appealing she found them. I rolled my eyes and moved on.

I didn’t cross paths with the group again until 1992 when I travelled with a friend to visit her parents in Regina, Saskatchewan for a summer vacation and a look at that part of the country. While there, the local cinema was showing an IMAX movie of a Rolling Stones concert that had been recorded live. With IMAX being a cool and innovative Canadian invention, it seemed an interesting thing to do on holiday. And the experience was memorable. Aside from being able to see the huge “sideways” rolls of IMAX film in the glass projection booth, the filmed concert itself was lots of fun. For a fraction of a ticket price to attend a Stones “live” performance, I could get up close and personal without screaming fans, long lines for the bathroom, and the omnipresent drugs and alcohol. I was pleasantly surprised at how many of their songs I knew – a tribute to their pervasiveness in this “good” girl’s cultural conscience, despite their reputation for being the “bad boys” of rock and roll.

My next milestone in our detached relationship was when the Rolling Stones “reopened” Toronto to international tourism after the SARS scare of 2003. I didn’t attend on that late July day (being a little distracted by the impending birth of Son #1), but I was grateful to them for putting my adopted hometown back on the map and showing the world it was safe to come here (not that it had ever really been unsafe). It was a moment of great kindness and generosity on their part.

And then there was the iconic video of Mick Jagger getting on his moves just six weeks after having had heart valve surgery in 2019. That man’s energy and health at age 75 put the rest of us, many much younger, to shame. Wow, just wow!!

So when Charlie Watts passed away at the age of 80 this past August, it was the end of an era, even for me. But other than his marvellous arms, I knew very little about Mr. Watts – including that he had been ill. Nonetheless, I read all the articles about him. And in death, he taught me something new.

As it turned out, Charlie’s first love wasn’t rock and roll at all. It had never occurred to me that anyone as famous and successful as Mr. Watts would not absolutely love what he did for a living – drumming for The Rolling Stones. But, as one reporter aptly put it, The Stones was his “day job.” His real passion was jazz drumming. Who knew?

I certainly didn’t. And it got me to thinking about the assumptions I make about people who are successful and well known, if not outright famous – namely that they are all doing exactly what they want to be doing and having a good time doing it. I don’t doubt that there are many celebrities, influencers and thought leaders who truly love the work they do, but there are also likely some who do it because it pays well or they have gotten trapped in their own success. And even for those who enjoy their vocation or celebrity, who says they wouldn’t like to make a change or else nurture a “secret” passion for something other than for which they are known?

Conversely, I have somehow always assumed that the people who fill those essential front-line jobs (such as working at the grocery store or serving coffee at Tim Horton’s) would really rather be doing something else. Again, in many cases that may be the truth – I have heard too many stories about people who are underemployed or not permitted to do the work they are trained to do because of various professional restrictions and/or language barriers. However, this simply isn’t always the case. Prior to the pandemic, while travelling to the airport en route to a vacation, I recall meeting a Canadian-born limousine driver who was very happy doing his job and seemed never to have aspired to do anything else. That was another useful lesson in not making assumptions about other people’s aspirations and job fulfillment.

And so I have to thank Charlie Watts for this unexpected insight: that even money and fame don’t always bring complete fulfillment to people who, on the surface, are incredibly successful. Sometimes being “rich and famous” is just another means of permitting them to indulge in their real passion.

Rest in peace, Mr. Watts. I hope the jazz is good where you are.