dreams dreams dreams

they're bastards really. dreams. and ironic bastards at that. you can't live without them. apparently. the argument goes that if you can't pretty up the future in your own image what is the point of putting up with the slings and arrows of the outrageous present? there is something in that i suppose but you have to admit that they do absolutely nothing to protect us from the elements. or keep us fed. no they leave all that to us while they just bang on having fun and being dreams.

or aspirations if you want to be sociological. of course the more you filter them through academic discliplines such as sociology the more they subtly shape-change. push 'em through one specialism and they take on the semblance of possibilities. once they've got through two they're starting to look like four-square facts.

in the interests of credibility its tempting to adopt the aspirations tag. they at least may be achievable. serious and unflappable sorts talk knowlegdably about aspirations. which have gravitas. whereas dreams have slightly less substance than the glitter on the christmas fairy's frock.

personally i've never had much truck with aspirations. i find them a bit bourgeois. with too much of the weekend colour supplement about them. there's aspirational meals for example. who would not die for an 8 inch high column of poached toad's liver, prawns, lemon grass and something really clever you (well actually not you but the narcissistic and pouty chef) can do with ugli fruit? especially when its served in a refurbished rural post office tastefully decked out in a myriad shades of brown. well me for one.

then theres the aspirational thatched mansion in kent. a 17th century farmhouse for 2.5 million smackeroonies. or that ever diminishing piece of ice cream-hued neck ware that'll let you download and store the entire creative output of the rock and roll industry through the twentieth century. so useful even if it will take you five lifetimes to listen to, with the proviso that you are so sad you have nothing else to do but plug into it.

and thats not all. the thing's so goddamn clever it'll put you in touch with everyone in the world in the twinkling of a credit card. even the guy on the third seat from the right of the back bench of the shed in chengdu (capital of szechuan, dummy) who supervised the thing's auto-assembly in the first place. and who you might like to phone up to order your next generation gizmo when, after an entire 13 months of selfless service, your current purchase becomes the unforgivably obsolete fashion gaffe we all secretly knew it would.

thats where you'll end up if you allow yourself to be seduced by aspirations.

no, best to stick to dreams. if i didn't have mine i'd have become a cynical old badger myself years ago. that i haven't (i haven't ok!) is down almost entirely to the fact that i've kept a careful eye on them. any sign of upward mobility, you know aspiring to aspiration status as it were, and they've been firmly, and not all that gently, tugged back into line. oh i've been loyal to my dreams i have. but have they been loyal to me?

well they're still there. so they've kept the faith. and i guess that's loyalty. they're not quite so sparkley and fresh as once they were but nonetheless, prodding and calling they are. like so many trees on a far hillside. just as they used to. hauling me back from spiritual dead ends and creative cul de sacs.

so what can a poor boy do if he finds his dreams quietly purring away round his feet under 4 decades of life's rich patina just a little wrinkleyer, but still recognisable and quite lively? one answer would be to scrape away the detritus and give them their head. because by now it might be time to accept that they ain't going to change. nor are they going to leave you alone. and a bit like love, you don't have much choice in the matter.

as if you ever really thought you did.

watch this space .........