Monday, December 3, 2012

The bad dream of Little Musgrave ...

I awoke in a sweat this morning.
At least, I hope I awoke.

I had experienced one of those rare dreams that you remember clearly, wondering if it really happened.
You know: those ones in Technicolor where all your teeth fall out, and you seem to be in a state of embarrassing undress.
(Oh, don’t you have those?)

I had set up the Guide Hall, as usual, for our Friday gathering.
The tables were dressed, the toilet signs had been blue-tacked and festive lights correctly suspended.
All was well, except …
                               nobody else had arrived.

“They all know we begin at 8.00pm!” I am thinking.
I tune my guitar.
8.10pm: still nobody, so I play a scale on the concertina.
“Who’s MC, anyway?”
I sing a few strains of a song that I am trying to recall.

Then, OMG ...
People arrive.
I recognise no one.
They are all dressed in theatrical costume.
In a welcoming manner I approach one who appears like Lady Macbeth.

She's quite pretty.

“Out, damned spot!” she cries at me.
I retreat in embarrassment to look in the mirror.

Oh, she's noticed I've got a cold-sore!
Well, I suppose that we have now been introduced.

At 8.30pm I decide I'd better MC.
I adopt an assertive posture and begin: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen …”

This is rudely interrupted by a man wearing a wooly hat and bearing a human skull in his hand.
He soliloquises at length ...

Alas, poor Yorick ...

I adopt an upright posture again to emphasise authority.
I interrupt indignantly: “Don’t you know that this is a folk music club?”
“We’ve tolerated poetry, but am-dram has to be way beyond our remit!”

A Scottish nobleman approaches.
He contrives a malevolent countenance as he threateningly snatches up the bell tree.

“Is this a dagger which I see before me?” quoth he.

errr. no, but ...

This could do significant damage.
It seems inadvisable to contradict him.
In considerable fear, I hastily withdraw.

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!

… in [my] hurry to carry the news [I] bared [my] breast and ran,
… and when [I] came to the broad mill stream, [I] took off [my] shoes and [I] swam.

Then little Musgrave awakes to discover that it’s only Monday morning after all!


La Jolie Guirlande said...

Mmm now should we consult club members who interpret dreams....or would it be better to leave well alone?


Colin said...

It's OK, I already know ...
The Chinese believe that your teeth fall out if you are telling lies.
(Actually, I really did have that dream.)
Then dreams of nakedness, when nobody else seems to notice, indicate that the dreamer is making an issue of nothing of any consequence.
Jane agrees in reality!