22 February 2011

Dreams ...

Yesterday I dreamed Paul Bergman walked into my house. He was wearing his hair long, suspiciously like John Lennon. He wasn't wearing glasses.

Then Neil Young walked in, and then Paul McCartney. They all said nice things. Neil picked up my guitar, strummed a few chords, sang a few words, and then passed it along to John/Paul, who did the same (but not without remarking on the weirdness of Neil's chord choices), and passed it on to Paul who played George's Here Comes the Sun. Then he said, "What about that weird bit at the end there? The F C G on the Sun Sun Sun. What about that for weird, eh?"

I could feel right then that I was about to wake up. I was thinking, I need to write this down. I said to the guys, "Just wait here. I'm going to get my pen and notebook and write this down. It'll make a great story." And Neil said, "Yeah man, go ahead! I dreamed I saw the knights in armour sayin' something about a queen."

Well you can wake up, or fall asleep at the most inopportune times some nights. When I got back to the room they were all gone, except for the spectre of Bergman's face in Lennon's hair, this time with those glasses. Was this the Mount of Olives? Were these the three prophets? Why didn't I offer them a place to stay? Why didn't I say that we could just sit down right then and there and sing and play until morning? I'd have remembered it then, maybe.

By morning I'd forgotten it. By now my memory's cruel in its misgivings. I played Here Comes the Sun tonight, though. And then Yesterday.

Ride report
in: -18'C wind 5 ks S
out: -8'C wind 30 ks S



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