I had a dream
Last night I went to bed fairly early and as is my wont, I left the wireless on a low level, tuned to 5live's coverage of the US election, presented by the snow-shovelling ex children's presenter, Richard Bacon and the rather more astute political editor,John Pienaar. I was hoping to catch the first couple of declarations around 1am, just to see which way the wind was blowing. In the event, I fell asleep around 12.45.
I then found myself walking around Sharon's house in my pyjamas, dithering about using the downstairs lavatory as it involved walking across the back hall which happened to be swimming in dog piss. And I only had socks on my feet. Linn Marie, Sharon's youngest, who was cooking in the kitchen at the time, lost patience and skipped past me into the khazi, oblivious to the mess on the floor. I got upset by my indecisiveness and retired somewhere nondescript. Seeing that she had unwittingly upset me, Linn Marie arranged for my favourite band to put on a special concert for me; unfortunately I didn't recognise any of the players until the star was introduced, a balding, saxophone playing, white polo neck shirt wearing mixed-raced chap with a friendly face going under the name of Paul Kings, coincidentally the same name as a very much Anglo-Saxon and hirsuit childhood friend who now runs a geological testing company in the west country somewhere. We lost touch about 30 years ago bar a brief flurry of Friendsreunited mails a few years back. Paul's solo was interrupted by the piano player who was making his final appearance with the band. He started talking in a familiar drawl and then got up to shake hands with the rest of the band and address the audience, thanking gard and saying thank you to his fellow merkins. It was George W. Bush and he was unaccountably popular.
I woke up. The radio was still on and John McCain was conceding defeat. His voice and intonation, if you are half asleep, is scarily similar to that of the outgoing leader of the free world.