I have a dream

I must tell you about a dream I just had. I rarely remember my dreams, but this one was so bizarre and so vivid I had to write it down as soon as I'd woken up. It went something like this;

Its a warm summers day. I'm at some sort of large village fete, or maybe an airshow. Its in a large field. There are lots of people there, lots of stalls dotted around, a voice making announcements over the PA system, you get the idea.

I'm walking around with Barack Obama. No security guards or anything, just me and Bazza. He's loving it. He's never seen anything like this and its a wonder to him. We stop at a vegetable stall and Mr.Obama decides to start helping out behind the counter. Massive grin on his face. Bagging up corguettes. Suddenly I realise he's dressed in all green with wellies and a wax Barbour jacket on. He's dressed for this day. All that's missing is a cloth cap.

Suddenly we've moved on to a quiet part of the field, and a lot of my friends are now with us. We're laughing and joking with the President of the United States, kitted out like a black Princess Anne, at a village fete. Like you do.

The time comes for him to leave and he starts making his excuses. My friend Ben, in his haste to tell Mr.Obama how much of an honour its been to meet him, accidentally calls him 'Diana' (honestly, this is all how it happened).

We all naturally want a photo, but for some reason I soon find myself posing with my friends waiting for him to take a picture of us. This seems like a daft idea to me, but I begin to slowly warm to it. How many people have a photo of themselves that was taken by the US President? Mrs.Obama perhaps, but not many others.

This is when I realise that Barack Obama is not very good with technology. We crouch (because Barack thought it would be best to get an 'arty' shot from above) for what seems like an eternity, while he struggles with a digital camera. He's just pressed the wrong button and now he's scrolling through the photo album. No one is brave enough to try to help him. He's adamant he can work it out himself anyway.

During this little episode I discover Mr.Obama supports the same football team as me. I try to subtly tell him that I'm also a fan. Why? Do I think we may become friends on the strength of it? Lets face it, we've had a great day at the village fete. He's had a whale of a time. Maybe this football connection is the final piece of the jigsaw of a great friendship?

I never find out. His inability to operate a digital camera becomes so frustrating that I wake up, confused and alone. Wearing wellies and a Barbour jacket.*


*That last bit wasn't actually true, but the rest of it is.

PS - I think this beats the only other strange dream I can remember which was had by my friend John. He dreamt that they were unveiling a new Concorde aeroplane, and rather than it being faster, safer, or more economical, its unique selling point was actually that it could breakdance...