When dreams come true
Now this is the weirdest thing. And I am not kidding. I had a dream the other night which was, of course strange as dreams so often are . . . I guess it was the cheese sandwich I’d consumed as a nightcap that sparked it.
Now I realise talking about one’s dreams can be drab and disinteresting so I’ll cut to the chase.
I was on a train. An old fashioned sort of train like the ones they ran when steam was handling the propulsion side of the deal. And I was sitting next to Eric Clapton but I never said a word to him.
We were the only passengers in the whole old wooden carriage and never said a word . . . and the music playing was not his so I guess that’s why he looked grumpy and not in a talkative mood.
Then I woke up. End of story . . . until yesterday when I had a quick squizz through the upcoming visual bits and pieces over the next week and two programmes sort of caught my attention.
I have always liked trains and a while back was talking to a couple of chaps who were delighted to hear that an old shunter they once worked with at a local works had been beautifully restored by a bunch of train enthusiasts. It took about six years.
I admire that sort of devotion to retaining a slice of mechanical history.
So a programme on Prime tomorrow night at 7.30 sort of jumped out given it carries the title Great Rail Restorations.
I don’t mind these sorts of real-life shows as they are indeed, real life.
They’re not restoring a carriage or shunter on some deserted island, and they’re not doing it to meet a potential new wedding mate.
Watching enthusiasts, and cleverly practical and mechanical ones at that, getting to work on a restoration gig can be both inspiring and entertaining.
Here we have a wooden carriage being restored back to originality after being used as a holiday chalet.
Looks like the one in the dream I had. And then, mere seconds later, I spotted a documentary at 8.30 the following night and also on Prime.
It is called Eric Clapton — Life in 12 Bars.
Given his early daze penchant for a drink that title could be taken two ways.
A programme about an old wooden railway carriage and a programme about Eric Clapton . . . within a few days of that weird dream. Is this The Truman Show
● Great Rail Restorations, Prime at
7.30pm Tuesday: Part one of a strange dream, and I daresay the restorers of this fine carriage also dreamed of what they would eventually achieve.
● Eric Clapton — Life in 12 Bars,
Prime at 8.30pm Wednesday: Part two of a strange dream, and there were many guitarists who would have dreamed of being able to play like Eric. all over again? Is there some sort of subconscious script being rolled out here?
This doco is an in-depth look at the chap who first emerged with John Mayall’s blues band and the Yardbirds, then Cream, then Blind Faith, then Derek and the Dominoes, then . . . well it’s been a very expansive and colourful musical journey and he’s still hitting the stage at the age of 73.
Eric was at the Mission Concert a few years back but he pretty much got outshone by fellow guitarist Derek Trucks. He was not in a chatty mood and sort of just went through the motions . . . we heard later he’d fallen out over spotting a special batch of ‘Eric Clapton Concert’ wines which had been created for the event, as they had for other artists previously. As he’d battled the booze and sworn off it, he was rather livid. So there weren’t too many on-stage sparks.
It may not have been the first time Eric had been to Hawke’s Bay though.
He was apparently spotted driving along the seafront road a few years earlier and it transpired he enjoyed trout fishing and was said to call by to fish the Bay’s rivers from time to time with a mate.
I don’t think such angling expeditions will feature in this remarkable and wellstocked (musically) documentary.
The line-up of fellow artists who emerge is staggering: Duane Allman, Bob Dylan, Chuck Berry, Jack Bruce, Jimi Hendrix, George Harrison, John Lennon, Steve Winwood, Mick Jagger . . . and that’s only a fifth of them.
Oh, and Keith Richards appears, which is fitting, because like Clapton he can be considered an absolute survivor given the life of hard drinks and drugs he also rampaged through.
I put it down to very good genes, and in Clapton’s case some very good notes.
The lad could certainly play . . . on and off the stage. So it is rail tracks and Fenders to the fore as a strange dream takes televisual shape.
My only fear is that after a future cheddar nightcap, I’ll have a dream about finding a Ferrari in the garage with two baboons dressed as Santa Claus in it.
I’ll then end up searching every channel on the planet to come up with a link. I think I’ll stick to a coffee nightcap.