Do you ever remember your dreams?
Breakfast with the Merry Pranksters in Ironbridge
“Jane moved in with her ma out on Shawnee Lake
She sighed, “Ma sometimes my whole life feels like one big mistake”
She settled in, in a back room, time passed on
Later that winter, a son come along
Spare parts, and broken hearts
Keep the world turning, around”
“Spare Parts” by Bruce Springsteen
“Do you ever remember your dreams matey, you know, when you wake up in the morning?”. My son fixed me with a stare equal parts horror and bemusement as he knew from experience that I was sure to follow up this question with a bizarre statement by way of initiating a conversation and after answering that he didn’t remember his dreams, he was right to look at me as though I were a piece of moldy cheese. For I awoke this morning singing along to Spare Parts by Bruce Springsteen, a song I haven’t heard or sung along to for that matter in many a long year, and all because my dreams last evening transported me back to the late 1980’s and standing in a queue outside Wembley Stadium eagerly awaiting entry to see The Boss. To kill time, the younger me is singing Spare Parts so perfectly that one of Bruce’s entourage asks if I’d like to skip the queue, meet with The Boss, perhaps join him on stage later and help him with the song and…well, that’s when real life kicked back in. Dreams are strange beasts, aren’t they? One minute you’re in a tunnel of love with Bruce Springsteen, the next you’re watching the sun playing hide and seek behind the clouds as you rustle up some bacon sandwiches and decide that Friday 27th June 2025 is best enjoyed by some games in the sunshine with the light of your life, after buying some old fashioned sweets in a picture-book toy town and after feeding the resident ducks, obviously.
Jeremy, the always smiling owner of toy town’s “Old Fashioned Sweet Shop” was busy talking all things fishing with a couple of visiting tourists, so whilst my son scoured the shelves of sugary delight surrounding him (before we departed with a mixture of fizzy strawberries and strawberry and cream hearts) I made a fuss of Jeremy’s pug-dog “Bear” who demanded my attention and when not in receipt of it, barked and growled until he received it once more. The ducks were less lovingly aggressive but equally as eager for attention as they squawked and swooped their way from the far side of the riverbank to ours. Still no Fred and Mary (the resident swans of Ironbridge) and considering last summer’s shenanigans, one wonders where they are. I could bring you up to speed on what happened last summer and why I believe these two swans to be murderous beasts who kill and bury any other swans who have the temerity to elbow their way onto their patch, but all of this is catalogued within the pages of my book documenting last year’s summer in toy town, and we don’t have time for such scurrilous rumours today.
Maybe next time?
“Uno” Result
Lad 1
Dad 2
Picture the scene: The bacon sandwiches have been devoured and the seal on the all butter shortbread has already been ripped asunder and still we are no nearer a winner. If the opening two Games were tense, tight and elongated affairs (and split one Game apiece 109–59 to the Lad, 116–83 to your humble narrator in reply), the third and final Game was a humdinger that in my son’s own words “is never going to end”. 14 hands, rounds or mini-games saw the score standing 83–77 in my favour, but each and every winning hand only ensured each party only scored a small handful of points on our way to the 100 point target for victory. Until that is, round 15, and with my son’s eyes drawn to the bag of sugary strawberry delights next on our eccentric breakfast menu agenda, I romped past the winning line with a whopping mini-game victory of 65 points, wrapping up a 2–1 win with a Game 3 triumph of 142 points to 77.
“Yahtzee” Score
Lad 245
Dad 255
A sore defeat for the sore loser this one. An early Yahtzee (all 5’s) ensured the lad moaned that he was destined to lose this game from the very first rolls of the dice and he remained less than impressed right until the (very) bitter end. I don’t believe I helped matters by saying (deliberately?) “Imagine the scores if I didn’t score a Yahtzee”, but the lad was too busy harrumphing under his breath and dividing up the sweets to care…
“YAHTZEE!”
“Tri-Ominos” Score
Lad 277
Dad 235
A resounding win for the lad who at the halfway stage held a 66 point advantage (196–130) and although I out-scored him on the home straight and finished first by placing all my triangular shaped tiles, he had enough of a lead to still win easily by 42 points.
So we called it quits. I sang songs of triumph (much to his annoyance!) and as the sun had permanently come out from behind the overhead clouds, we fed the ducks a second and final time before bidding farewell to toy town.
A dream couple of hours in real life with the keeper of my flame.
Thanks for reading, much appreciated.
My book from last summer in Ironbridge:
"My Ironbridge Summer" - link to Amazon
"Last Summer In Ironbridge"- possible sequel to "Last Tango In Paris"?