Stretch Out And Wait

A funny thing happened on our way to school this morning. It’s not often I can write that. 

I'd found an old cassette tape in the garage with 'The Smiths at G-Mex' written on the case. My eldest took out the cassette and shook it - like a little maraca. She then threw it to one side and tried to put the case into the car’s cassette player. She didn't believe me when I told her that I was actually at the concert in question and that it was in an old railway station.

‘You can hear me in the background.’

‘No you can’t.’

She indulged me as I sang along to ‘Stretch Out And Wait’ – she even improvised a lovely backing vocal.

Then a voice interrupted the songs. It was a pithy Morrissey aside:

‘Thank you. I hope…. the pressure….. of actually having to stand on your own two feet isn’t… too painful.’

The way in which the last few words were emphasised gave the impression that he really wasn’t having the best of days.

‘He does sound a bit cross Dad. Maybe his train was late. Maybe that’s why he had to ‘stretch out and wait'…?’

I can remember watching the gig and looking up at the roof of the building with a glow of nostalgia. It had been the old central railway station and as a 12 year old I’d found my way to the apex and turned the hands on the clock for a dare before being chased away by a security man. I told Aurora this story.

‘No you didn’t’

I had taped the concert from the radio in 1986. I didn’t try and explain this concept to my daughter – expecting another confused or negative response. Then the adverts from 1986 came on. You could get a Mini Metro for under 3 thousand pounds at Borough Garage in Bury.

‘Can we get one Dad?’

Last Night I Dreamt....

Maude and I share everything – hopes, fears, dreams. She asked me why I hadn’t slept very well on Sunday night and was even more tired than usual for the start of the working week. I explained that I had been distressed by a bad dream. ‘What?’ she asked 'a proper nightmare?’.

‘Worse than that,’ I answered.

I explained that my dream had featured my finally striking up a friendship with Morrissey. (I once declined an invitation to a party in Manchester – unaware that The Smiths were there. This has obviously stayed with me). I went on to describe how Morrissey had brewed his best tea for me. He had poured it from a teapot swaddled in a tea cosy bearing the combative image of Pat Phoenix and then served it in China cups. The cups chimed beautifully when replaced in their saucers. We had lovely muffins, freshly toasted on Morrissey's open fire – all the while talking about our favourite books, the highlights of ‘kitchen sink’ cinema and trying to quantify just how much Manchester had to answer for. The phone kept ringing and he fielded calls from Nancy Sinatra and Alan Bennett – explaining that he had a far more important new friend and it was highly unlikely that he would need their company any more. It was then that the dream took a dark turn. Morrissey had just asked for my help.

‘Please please PLEASE! have a look at the songs for my new album – I’m really not too sure about them.’

Morrissey then crossed the room and rifled through a leather satchel. He produced a large scrapbook with the legend ‘My New Songs’ stencilled on the cover. He fumbled a little, put on his reading glasses and made to return to me at the hearth. My second muffin was very nearly done to perfection. Morrissey’s face now wore an expression of profound relief. He had obviously been carrying a great deal of worry about the quality of the new songs and saw in me a kindred spirit - someone who would add the necessary polish to get the songs to recordable quality.

Morrissey’s body was then struck by a terrible spasm. His hands dishevelled his cardigan and clutched at his chest. He then fell, dead, on the deep-pile carpet.

Of course I awoke at this point.

Maude looked unmoved by the events of my dream.

‘I tend to dream about family and friends,’ observed Maude. ‘You know, the people who matter to me…..you.’

‘I dream about you as well, dear.’

Maude looked unconvinced and continued.

‘I dream about the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.’

I pointed out that I was still upset and she really should keep her threats to herself.