Dreams: Odd and a bit rubbish, really.

For the first time in a dog’s age, I recall having a dream last night. Normally, as far as I am concerned, it’s lights out, head down, "Good God, it’s morning". In that order, as a rule.

Last night though, I dreamt. Most of it has gone now, as is the way with these things, but I do recall a stadium, strangely reminiscent of the Molineux¹ circa 1977, but not quite. I recall being in a crowd that wouldn’t approach the stage, and a feeling of anticipation and agitation. For some reason, we were there to watch Eric Clapton, looking as he would have in his late Cream, or Derek and the Dominoes period. He proceeded to play a single bluesy number and then left. The crowd seemed quite happy at this, though on wakeful reflection we were clearly short changed.

The scene then cuts to an outdoor café, with old Slowhand grinning like a loon, and me affecting indifference while a formally dressed waiter serves tea in porcelain cups, and slices of Battenberg cake on plastic plates.

I was about to say something² when I woke up.

I doubt that this half-remembered dream means anything. It seems that my subconscious has been playing old records, reading old football programmes and watching 1960s art house movies.

Did you know that nostalgia comes from the Greek, nostos, meaning "a return home", and the suffix -algia - from the Greek algos, denoting pain.


¹The home ground of Wolverhampton Wanderers FC, and in its tatty, pre-redevelopment days.

²Probably about to complain about making all that effort to get to a gig for a single song.

Dreams: Odd and a bit rubbish, really.

For the first time in a dog’s age, I recall having a dream last night. Normally, as far as I am concerned, it’s lights out, head down, "Good God, it’s morning". In that order, as a rule.

Last night though, I dreamt. Most of it has gone now, as is the way with these things, but I do recall a stadium, strangely reminiscent of the Molineux¹ circa 1977, but not quite. I recall being in a crowd that wouldn’t approach the stage, and a feeling of anticipation and agitation. For some reason, we were there to watch Eric Clapton, looking as he would have in his late Cream, or Derek and the Dominoes period. He proceeded to play a single bluesy number and then left. The crowd seemed quite happy at this, though on wakeful reflection we were clearly short changed.

The scene then cuts to an outdoor café, with old Slowhand grinning like a loon, and me affecting indifference while a formally dressed waiter serves tea in porcelain cups, and slices of Battenberg cake on plastic plates.

I was about to say something² when I woke up.

I doubt that this half-remembered dream means anything. It seems that my subconscious has been playing old records, reading old football programmes and watching 1960s art house movies.

Did you know that nostalgia comes from the Greek, nostos, meaning "a return home", and the suffix -algia - from the Greek algos, denoting pain.


¹The home ground of Wolverhampton Wanderers FC, and in its tatty, pre-redevelopment days.

²Probably about to complain about making all that effort to get to a gig for a single song.