What is your dream
What is your hope
Don’t give up
Don’t give in
Follow life’s stream

Words From Beyond M.S. 1989

So my only question left to answer as I sat at my brothers grave site staring at the head stone that had my own name on it and the words ‘only son’ was, what dream should I be following?

Maybe it seems obvious to you the reader who has seen my life evolve relatively quickly but to me who had lived it day by day for nearly sixteen years it wasn’t so obvious.

I did remember once having the dream that I wanted to be like my grand father, we didn’t see him much when we were kids but he was to me a lot like my father, only without the anger, the hatred and the strange beliefs. But I think I was about three when I had that dream, back then I didn’t even know the full extent of my father’s craziness so to suggest I actually knew what my grand father did and actually wanted to follow in his footsteps might have been a bit too much.

Then there was the dream I had when I was around six or seven years old. I don’t remember exactly when but it was after I found my mother’s diary but before I was really old enough to understand what it was she was writing. We went on a tour of a power station with the school and it was an amazingly eye opening trip for me. I had never before given a thought about where our power came from, never cared how it was made and never considered that people actually made it, and not specialist people but every day workers. Oh they were skilled, they had training and they went to school to be educated but I really didn’t know or understand that, to me the men and women I saw on that tour were just like the people I saw at the shopping centre only they were wearing overalls.

At the age I was I obviously didn’t understand a great deal of what our tour told us, it was a bit advanced for a mind of that age. I was able to understand that coal was brought from the ground by huge machines that they called dredgers, the coal then went into the power station and was burnt, then power was made and it was sent out via big power lines to the houses and suburbs where people lived and worked. What more did I need to know than that, all the big machines in the power station, the dials and gauges in the control rooms, the noise and the dirt, which was actually coal dust and not something anyone loved playing in. Failing being one of the power station operators I figured I could drive one of those huge dredgers, they were after all just like big sand pit toys.

I don’t really know how long that dream lasted but I seem to remember it being very strong for a few months given my father’s opposition to the thought. Why he disliked the idea so much I never really found out and it wasn’t like he suggested an alternative, but he disliked it and I definitely held on to it, then I just forgot about it.

Between that trip to the power station and when I left home I don’t remember too many other dreams as such, well not that kind that would lead to to a wonderful life. I think I probably went through the stage of wanting to be a fireman because they save people, a doctor because they help people and even a truck driver because they got to play with big toys. But there was nothing there niggling at my mind saying ‘do this’. I was relatively good academically and for in my last year of school I really liked playing with engines in automotive class, but nothing seemed to be leading me to a career.

It was the same thing once I left home. I was good at setting up stage shows, I was learning more each show and I was becoming the sort of person that was accepted to do more and more unassisted, but was that my career. To be honest I actually thought it was and sitting there in the cemetery I was wondering if my dream was to move into bigger arena shows, bigger bands and bigger tours. Was it too much to dream that I could once day be like Daphne and own a touring company that did sound and lights for bands, not just in Adelaide but all over the country, maybe the world. Of course it wasn’t because no dream is too big and dreaming big is what makes people successful.

I was scrunching up the paper that my lunch had come wrapped in, making a neat ball of it because for some reason that’s what people did when they finished their fried food from the fish and chip shop, when the lyrics to a song jumped into my mind.

Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years
Face up, make your stand
And realise you’re living in the golden years

The words belonged to the chorus of the Iron Maiden song Wasted Years off their Somewhere In Time album which I had picked up the day before. Obviously because I’d listened to the album so recently it was fresh in my mind and the words weren’t exactly a guiding light, other than to suggest I shouldn’t waste my time but for some reason at that time those words brought me the answer to the question that I’d heard spoken by a voice that might have sounded like Herod’s but obviously couldn’t have been.

So like I said earlier the dream I wanted to follow might have been obvious to you the reader but it actually took me a little while to come to the same conclusion.

Previous chapter here.
Story starts here.