Big Brother

Along with my wife, J, I was a contestant on 'Big Brother'. The series had only just started, so there were a huge number of participants in a large complex of trendy buildings and gardens. I was only just getting to know some of them. I didn't see much of J., strangely enough, but was very excited that the viewers would see what I was doing, albeit in a heavily-edited form.

I got a laugh out of almost everybody I met by going from room to room shouting 'Bored, bored, bored, bored!' in a pastiche of Adrian Edmonson as Vyvian from 'The Young Ones'. I was sure this would make it into the broadcast programme and that I would become hugely popular as a result.

Unusually for 'Big Brother', we were allowed out for the occasional morning or afternoon, so J. and I decided to meet her father and drive him somewhere. I had spent some of the cash which seemed to have accompanied my new-found celebrity on an extremely old (1910s-30s) and small car. It had been reasonably well restored. However, we became lost and my attempts to find a shortcut through a Victorian sandstone building in pleasant suburban gardens failed when we kept encountering stairs. I found I could stick my foot out and lift the vehicle down sets of two or three steps, but longer flights meant we had to give up and find another way round.

Cast off!

Was leaving a Glasgow dock to sail down the Clyde as the captain of a fairly large vessel (it could have been a car ferry or the like). Very excited about this, and pretty confident, even though I hadn't done anything like it before. I gave orders to cast off at bow and stern - I could hear my crew complying, and the ship began to drift out into the river. I realised with slight concern that I hadn't first ordered the engines to be started (surely I was doing this in the wrong order) and did so. To be quite frank, I was only fleetingly bothered by this, and primarily because I didn't want people viewing from the quay to see I didn't know what I was up to. Once we were under way (at 'half forward' I think), I began to concentrate on the river ahead, knowing that I would have to anticipate any change of course long before we reached the point at which it was required.

Bush Visit

Was back at school, or at least in school. Looked like a standard West-of-Scotland secondary school, though not the one which, in reality, I attended.

An exciting day; George W Bush was visiting the school. In person, he appeared slightly broader and shorter than I would have imagined, and was being ushered around by school and security officals.

I engaged him in an ideological debate, which he appeared to be attempting to withdraw from, but still participated in. My argument was pretty strange, and seemed to be based on a hypothetical transaction between a Jewish Berlin shopkeeper who had been publicly accused of short-changing his customer, sometime in the 30s. Public outcry had been whipped up from this incident, which eventually became the seed from which the justification of the Final Solution outrages of WWII had grown.

George Bush retreated from the discussion, and whatever metaphorical point I was trying to make. I was aware of many around me (children and adults) who seemed to be enthusiastic about my attempts to harangue the super-power leader.

Wartime escape

An alarming dream of paranoia and pursuit. A bit of an epic, but I can only really recall fragmentary images of a trek across Scotland avoiding established roads and settlements to evade detection. At one point, I was compelled to use a ferry terminal to make good my route, and was extremely concerned that I might be spotted, or my name used. Like much of the dream, this location seemed to be set in the 1940s or 50s, judging from the interiors as well as the appearance of passers-by and officials.

Success for an Old Mate

Met up with B., an old chum from my days at Cardonald College, Glasgow. He is now running a business printing mouse mats and shirts (formal shirts, not t-shirts). His company is called 'MatPrint'

Flying

A classic flying dream, and very enjoyable. I found myself at a club operating out of a warehouse, overlooking fields but at the edge of a range of steep hills and moorland. At a later point of the dream I drove to a point on the coast beyond these hills.

One of the facilities offered at the club was the use of radio-controlled model helicopters. Once the control of these had been mastered, it was possible to loop a strap of webbing (similar to that used in seat-belts) over the helicopter, and to sit in the sling formed, whilst holding the radio controls. I can clearly remember the thrill of feeling my feet leaving the ground for the first time as I learnt how to balance my weight with the small lifting power of which the helicopter was capable.

Once I had become confident with this, I tried to see how I felt about rising to increasing heights, and found a comfortable maximum. Then I was off... I left the surroundings of the warehouse/hangar and sailed away to attempt to fly right over the range of hills. Clumpy heather and moss lay below, and I felt sure that I could fall from a reasonable height without injury if anything went wrong. Unfortunately, power lines were strung across the crest of the hill, and I was wary of making contact with or becoming tangled up in them, so I diverted my route back down and round the hill, allowing myself to rise once to a tremendous height and enjoying the view, before returning to a safer level.

I landed, with every intention of getting airborne again as soon as possible - I wanted to enjoy as much of this experience as I could. I discussed the equipment briefly with one of the more experienced members; he explained that more powerful twin-rotor (Chinook-like) helicopters were available, and could manage the weight of a man in a wheelchair.

Villain of the Piece

This dream had a baddie, a la Batman and Robin. He wore large, circular glasses and a black-and-white hooped top, and his name was: 'Meridian', symbolised by his outfit.

My first thought on waking up was "why didn't the stripes on Meridian's jersey run from top to bottom, like the meridians of the globe?"... my second thought was "no, they wouldn't actually be circles, then".

Strange Transport

Racing around a lot in this one. Two scenarios survive: Driving around (with a passenger, my friend G. I think) , I find myself suddenly turning into the main entrance of Frasers department store, off Buchanan Street, Glasgow. Panicked to find myself negotiating the gaps between perfume counters, I am relieved to find that the ways is clear through a side entrance onto Argyle Street. Phew! I thought I was sure to get into a lot of trouble. Later, I am riding an extremely small yet very tall bicycle (about the size of a child's bike, but saddle and handlebars are about twenty feet from the ground). This is difficult, especially because I am trying to ride without using my hands; I am eating a bowl of cereal or fruit. I am moving rapidly through the streets of what looks like some continental city. I am increasingly worried as I veer between double-decker buses, I am sitting so high up that I can see their roofs. Eventually I discard my spoon, and then the bowl, since I know it will be impossible to continue without doing so.

Horse Death

In an attic room, illuminated by large Velux window, in the roof of a tall building (four storeys or so). A serious fight is taking place, although I'm not sure what my involvement is in it. One of the opponents (or the main opponent) is mounted on a horse, and the beast stamps and bangs around the enclosed space, wild eyed and unnerved by its confinement. Suddenly the horse and rider are smashed through the window by some action of the conflict, and I am at the window just in time to see the horse scrabbling and terrified as it slides down the roof, its legs - useless in these conditions - thrashing around, dislodging some slates, then it drops out of site beyond the roof's edge. I realise that I can't bear to investigate its broken body at ground level.

Coat meeting

Am wearing my grey felt coat, and notice a man wearing what seems to be an identical coat. He is slightly smaller than me, with very short dark hair, and a goatee. "Excuse me, but where did you get that coat?" he asks. "Marks and Spencer", I reply, not letting on that I have noticed he is sporting the same garment. "Are you ___ ____?" he continues, using my real name, and I confirm that yes, indeed I am. He introduces himself - he's a good friend of my brother-in-law, and the son of one of my wife's clients.

This person does actually exist, though I've never met them. I'll now have to find out if they really match this description.

By the Sea

Swimming off some rocks... rather slippy with lots of moss, big waves and rather scary, but managed to launch myself into the water a few times... it's quite cold.

...wandering around a large building with long, glazed wings - something like a primary school. Each wing has two storeys, but I don't really get the chance to explore upstairs...