Mick and Keith

Last night, while watching the Golden Globe awards I was reminded of a series of dreams I had a couple of years back. I probably had about 15 or so over a 2 year period with the same awesome scenario, which is: Mick Jagger is my yacht-owning boyfriend and Keith Richards is my rock and roll hairdresser. We three, Mick, Keith and I, have lovely adventures sailing, sunning, laughing and singing. We are thick as thieves. Mick always looks ever-so-handsome in his captain's hat and half-open blue silk shirt, and my 8-button, white, Navy-issue pants are quite flattering and make me look somewhat taller than I actually am. Keith, on the other hand, is always shabbily dressed, mumbling and hung-over, but Mick and I love him terribly and dearly. Not to mention, he makes our hair look very cool, so we decide to consider him artistic, eccentric and wild (instead of a badly groomed alcoholic that makes us laugh). Yes, those were the days. What times we had! Champagne lunches. Lobster dinners. The works! However, sadly, I'm not quite sure what happened next. The dreams came to me less and less frequently and finally, they ceased altogether. Why would I quit dreaming such a perfectly good dream? Perhaps, Mick and Keith have crept into another woman's slumbering noggin and are showing her the time of her life? Perhaps, they didn't have the heart to tell me it was over and that had moved on to other charming women in nice white pants? Perhaps, my wandering imagination fell out of love with them? Well, should either, or all, be the case, so be it. Farewell, my cherished, talented, friends and thanks for the memories... And Mick, I want to tell you congratulations on winning the Golden Globe with your song last night. Old habits, they do die hard, you're absolutely right.