But last night, I had I dream I wish I could preserve on video. I was at the Tour de France, watching a big mountain stage, just on the downhill side of the summit of a huge climb. The Tour is something that I can always have on in the background as I work, so soothing are the voices of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen. And of course I am completely obsessed with cycling. So it's not surprising I dreamed I was at the Tour.
Anyhow, some rider in my dream had a mechanical problem with his bike, and he tossed it aside like a used water bottle. I ran to snag it as a souvenir. Whoo hoo! It was an old Bianchi, vintage 1982 or so, steel frame, leather saddle, and classic celeste paint job. But, this being a dream, it was light as a feather and fit me perfectly. So far, so good.
I was walking the bike down the hill when I found I was walking next to the greatest cyclist ever to turn a pedal in anger - Eddy Merckx. Eddy appeared to be in his early 50s in this dream, though now he's 65. "You like my bike?" I asked. "It's pretty nice," Eddy answered, "But you should have an Eddy Merckx."
"Those bikes you supplied for Team Quick Step look super cool!" I told him. "If you have a spare one, I'll take it."
"I'll see what I can do," said the Cannibal.
The dream changed scenes. Eddy and I were lounging on couches in an apartment in a French town, watching Tour coverage on TV, chatting about cycling, completely relaxed, as though we had been friends for years.
Sometimes you have a dream so great you hate to wake up, but this dream was so unbelievably cool, so perfect, so delightful, that I woke up excited just to have had it.
Oh, and Eddy, if you're reading this, I'd gladly ride an Eddy Merckx, if you have one to spare.
No comments:
Post a Comment