Tuesday, 24 November 2009

Brothers and Sisters - I Have A Dram......


Or more properly 'I have a Dream' and perhaps a wee bit of dyslexia too

What a night! I'm exhausted and not this time from insomnia. No, this time I'm exhausted because of a dream.........

I'm in a group of several women and a man. We are in a bar high up in some kind of tower restaurant above a seaside town that I don't recognise and the group have been drinking. A lot it would seem. They all look familiar but I cant put a name to any of them. I seem to be in charge of them as I am the most sober, but not by much. We are having a great time but the man seems determined to get closer to one or all of the Ladies and I don't seem to think that would be a good idea and let me feelings be known, but its all in a good natured banter kind of way.

As we are leaving the bar I have to go to the loo. As I do this I pass a mirrored section and see my reflection, its not me - well it is but I look like a really young Ewan MacGregor {?} from the pre 'Trainspotting' days.

{ I know why as I have seen him on TV looking like that as I channel hopped earlier and passed by Dennis Potters play ' lipstick on your collar', but that's all by the by.}

By the time we get outside I see the man is wearing a kilt outfit and a green jacket. Him and the girls are piling on to an old 1950's style single decker bus and as they do this he throws me some keys and says

" You'll need to bring the car. I'm too drunk to drive!"

I'm a bit annoyed, concerned and worried by this and he winks at me as he gets onto the bus by helping one of the younger girls on by clutching her bum and pushing theatrically to help her up. She giggles in a tipsy way as do the other girls and they are gone onto the bus. I head for the car, which is an old style mini - think 'Italian Job' - but on the way there I see an old colleague who worked for me years ago sitting on a bench looking very forlorn. I go over and we talk for a bit. She tells me her woes and that she doesn't have any money and wont get paid for a couple of weeks and how will she live. I tell her that I, along with almost everyone we worked with new about her lesbianism and that it didn't matter to any of us, she is liked for who she is and she shouldn't try and hide it any more. I give her all the money I have. She seems to take the news quite well and is very grateful for the money. I'm happy that I cheered her up but explain that I have to go as the bus is already beginning to pull out onto the road.



I get in the car and start to follow and, in a very blokey way, am really enjoying driving a classic car, checking out what all the switches do {and there are a lot of them}. I'm keeping up with the old bus no problem as it putters on along highland roads at the side of a wooded loch. Every now and then I can hear the bus gears grinding as the driver changes gear. I can see the gang in the back seat at least. They seem to be doing a lot of drinking and singing. I don't feel any less worried about them for some reason. The car radio is complete rubbish, and the only thing I can find playing is Andy Stewart singing ' Campbeltown Loch'. I realise the guy on the bus is Andy Stewart. I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognise him to be honest as he played a large part in my growing up years in a musically very damaging way. I realise I'm in a dream and think its all a bit weird but enjoyable and decide to go with the flow.



The bus passes a road sign which says in capital letters 'CAMPBELTOWN LOCH' which I stare at as I pass it too. Shortly after this the bus pulls into a lay by and the gang get out along with the rest of the passengers who head for loos and a cafe. At this point I realise the bus is being driven by Norman Wisdom. My gang seem to have several bottles of wine which they have been drinking and they head down to the water where a small burn feeds into the loch. The five girls are now wearing long red tartan skirts, white blouses and red tartan sashes across their chests. Its not what they were wearing before but I don't seem fazed by it at all. Actually I find it funny as I recognise them as the famous - and non existent - singing group 'The Alexander Sisters'. As they pass I am given a bottle of wine and sit down to have a drink and watch them join Andy Stewart in the middle of the burn splashing about with water lapping at their ankles as they all sing Campbeltown bloody Loch again. I find this hilarious and so do they and they have a bit of a water fight trying to splash me with burn water. No chance, as I'm just out of reach, which I find to be unreasonably funny too.

We all get back on the bus as its ready to go. I have explained to Andy that I'm too drunk to drive but secretly am determined to try and make sure he behaves himself with the ladies. I wont have him making fast and loose with the 'Alexander Sisters' I tell him. He winks at me again.

Slowly.

God I hate that!

Apart from us the bus is almost full of folk, mainly elderly women in coats and nice hats, but they don't seem to mind too much about the noise we are making in the back of the bus. Andy Stewart is telling filthy and very funny jokes which we all find hilarious, and they all sing 'Campbeltown Loch'. Again. Even the auld dears in the front of the bus join in. Well, everybody except me. I hate that song as I was made to sing it at every new years party I went to between the ages of 6 and eleven or twelve. Back in the bus we are all still drinking but I realise I have no idea where all this booze is coming from. One of the sisters decides that her feet are wet and uncomfortable with her wet socks {?} on and she takes them off. I am standing in the passage between the seats of the bus facing backwards at the edge of the group so I guess I must be trying to protect the other passengers from our excesses, or of course I could be trying to protect the group from complaining passengers too. The girl who has removed her sopping wet socks tells me she bets she can knock the hat off the head of one of the ladies several rows down and launches her sock at the lovely headgear perched on that blue rinsed dames head. Thankfully I manage to catch it just as it passes me and again we all find it hilarious. Soon though all five of the girls have removed wet socks and are all trying to throw them past me at the hats at the front of the bus, and I am doing my damnedest to make sure that none of them get past me but of course some do. I can hardly catch them for laughing anyway.

We get thrown off the bus - luckily we have just got back to town and I ask everyone to come back to my hotel to dry off and sober up, but only on the condition that we all behave or I will get thrown out of my room by the landlady who is a complete tyrant. The girls agree and Andy just winks at me. I realise that I haven't heard him speak or, thankfully, sing Campbeltown Loch for quite a while.

As we approach my hotel we all get a fit of the giggles and I spend a lot of time in between fits of laughter telling them all to " wheesht! or I'll get thrown out." On entering and trying to get up the stairs, the landlady comes out, catches us and tells us to go away. We decide, reasonably enough in our condition, the best place to go to sober up is to a bar. I know the very place and we head off laughing.

At this point, and in reality, I am laughing so hard that I wake myself up and after a moment to get my breath back and to get used to real world again I quietly head off to the toilet. Just as I put my hand on the door the lovely G asks me if I'm awake and when I say yes she asks what on earth I have been laughing about for the last twenty minutes as she hasn't had the heart to wake me even though its nearly 4am, but has been lying beside me trying to work out what on earth has been going on in my head. {there's little chance of that sweetheart} When I come back I tell her about the bus and Andy and the Alexander Sisters who I now recognise as the Nolan Sisters, an Irish, family singing group from the 80's. At 4am it doesn't feel quite so funny trying to explain, but my lovely G seems to still enjoy the story with me and there are a couple of times we both have a wee giggle to ourselves before we both fall quiet and drift back off to sleep.

Soon I am back in my dream with Andy Stewart and those bloomin Nolan Sisters. Thankfully they have stopped singing Campbeltown Loch and sensibly I don't mention it. This time we are on the Eurostar train on our way to Paris. Andy and the girls are on the seats at a table on one side of the train and I am on my own for the moment at a table on the opposite side to them. They're still having a party. I always suspected those Nolans weren't as clean cut as they made out but I'm not going to get involved.

Soon I am joined at my table by two ladies and a man. Now ok, I know its a dream, but this time I recognise them straight off. Its Dawn French, her husband Lenny Henry and the ditsy blond girl from 'The Vicar of Dibly' and the film 'Notting Hill'

Dawn is beside me and we are all having a great time chattering away like old friends and I have completely forgotten about that lot across the passage. Dawn French is lovely, actually extremely beautiful if the truth be told, and is really charming and witty. Worryingly she does have her hand on my thigh though. Still, Lenny doesn't seem to mind, and in fact has made a raised eyebrow gesture at me and her hand a couple of times and just smiled. I am quite comfortable about it all and conversation is just going along nicely. The other lady sitting beside Lenny, I have never been able to remember her name in real life, so have no chance in a dream, I have always found fascinating too and in real {dream} life is very witty and great company.



Lenny has been talking about his upbringing and how he met Dawn and how he fell for her the first time he saw her when he looks at her and says

"For goodness sake, do you have to do that? That's not funny you know."

I turn to her and find she has taken her top off.

CRIVENS JINGS AND HELP MA BOAB!!!

I wake up.

I can't take any more of this tonight. I need a coffee. Aye, and possibly a psychoanalyst...

I slip out of bed and quietly, gently open the door and leave my lovely G sleeping peacfully behind me.

I fret about my mental health while I descend the stairs, but still manage a smile too.

Where's the kettle..........

Listening to 'Campbeltown Loch' going round and round and round in my head.


Aaaaargh!!!!!!!!

8 comments:

KathyB. said...

You made me laugh, and what a dream life you have!

Alistair said...

Hullo Kathy,

Welcome to the blog and the wee gang that appears to have formed around it. I hope you become a regular visitor and continue to enjoy it. I know it surprises the heck out of me sometimes. Not been to have a look at yours but will soon.

Kind regards.......Al

Bovey Belle said...

Did you hear me singing Al? I haven't enjoyed myself so much in years, but my son thinks I am quite, quite BONKERS! If my name was Freud I dare say I would be able to get to the bottom of your dream, but I shall just say you obviously have issues about women, whiskey and Andy Stewart. It could have been worse, you might have dreamed about Des O'Connor - then we might really have to get worried about you!

Alistair said...

Hullo BB,

Do you think its serious? Jings - maybe I do need some help...

Des O'Connor - I think I would top masel' or maybe just slap the back of my head, do a funny wee dance and sing 'Bring me sunshine!'

Crivens - that's another bloomin song now.


I have no idea where the Alexander/Nolan Sisters or Dawn and the other lady come from......

Well I did have a wee thing for one or two of the Nolans, but who didnae?

I think after this dream I may have a wee thing for Mrs Henry's boobs too!!!

Help ma Boab!!!


Regards......Al

I hope I sleep tonight!!!!!

lom said...

And I thought my dreams were strange! had one last night, but nothing like yours

Big Swifty said...

It was exhausting enough, just reading about it. No wonder you are driven to Scotch, and seek solace in Andy Stewart (he haunted my new years too, even in the deep south!)And the crowd control on a bus reminded me of a bus I took between Aboyne and Braemar last May....
Hope you have a more peaceful night tonight.

The Scudder said...

Oh I just love a giggling dream .,.,
But like your lovely G my beloved A is never all that chuffed when I have one .,.,
Here's to your ( our ) next gemmie dream .,., but hey NOT TOGETHER !!

Alistair said...

Scudder..... Eeeww - the thought man.....

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