Mutability On The Doorstep

Water. For generations the twist or flick of a tap was taken for granted, like breathing in and out. But of course everything is mutable, including how we receive our daily water. Now that the government and 'Irish Water' stand to make some serious money out of water-metering, swarms of hi-vis jackets are everywhere, and unlike the crews of old, they are dazzlingly efficient, working to a deadline. One can't really object to this, but I flinch at the company's repulsively euphemistic slogan on the morning radio: 'safeguarding our water.' 'Safeguarding', eh?

From roadworks to roadie: I had the most peculiar dream last night. I was somehow on the roof of a building that was, essentially, adjacent to and level with the top of the old railway bridge (the one with the ads on it) linking Tara St. and Amiens St. stations. I was with some other people, including a young Bob Dylan. They were preparing to stage a concert at this location (like U2 on the NY rooftop). I asked Dylan if he had brought his own equipment/sound system/mic/etc. He said no. And suddenly it was up to me to get this together for him. It was Dublin circa the early 1960s and we were about to make history. I rushed downstairs, but not with any sense of real anxiety or panic (it wasn't that kind of dream). I remember wishing I had my camera, because I felt both present/in the moment and also visiting, like a time-traveler, and I wanted to record what I was seeing: for example the man at a desk in a window across the road, somehow significant for being part of this vivid reality. There were shops on the bottom floor, young guy behind the counter (wearing an apron?). I tell him that I need to get hold of a sound system (I think those are the words I use) by yesterday! I tell him I am about to record the man with both the worst and best voice in the world. We're talking millions of fans (it seems I'm now giving a kind of quiz). But the guy understands what I'm talking about. And he just might know someone. Somehow it's all going to work out; I am enacting what is already ordained, directing but also being directed, carried on a slipstream of momentous events.