Every time I travel overseas I have one or two Travel Anxiety Dreams (TADs) right before my flight. Usually, it is same dream every time. That dream is one where I am at the airport, ready to board the flight, and I realize that I do not have my passport. No flight for me!
But, last night, I had a new and different TAD. I am extremely excited about finally visiting Abbey Road Studios while we are in London, and I guess -- after last night -- I am a little anxious about it, as well.
In my dream last night, I was by myself in the right neighborhood, St John's Wood, and I had a reliable map that told me where the studio and the famous crosswalk were. But as I approached my destination I realized that the crosswalk and the studio were not where they should be. Instead I was suddenly in a very long, wide, and exquisite Belle Époque hotel hallway that was covered in beautiful gold from floor to ceiling. The ceiling was beautiful, and had long rows of window panes that threw light on the hall. As I walked up and down this beautiful hallway, I would constantly refer to my map to see where the crosswalk was. The map told the tale that I was at my destination, but I obviously was not, and I began to get worried.
Next, I left the beautiful hotel and came across a gorgeous dog legged outdoor lawn that stretched on for blocks. The map said this was the Mall of Great Moves. And there were giant chessboards set up on the mall with giant chess pieces, each setting an example of famous chess moves throughout history. These boards and the mall seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, when I walked the entire mall, the map said I had reached the crosswalk. But, I was back in the hotel hallway. I noticed a little maintenance room at the end of the hall. The door was partially open. I went in there, and finally saw the famous Abbey Road Studios outer wall, all covered in its adoring Beatles graffiti. But, I could not get to the wall because there was a large metal grated door between me and the studio. The door was locked. So I could finally see -- barely-- the studio but could not go there. I woke up. I never did find the crosswalk.
Which brings me to the point of how odd it must be to work at Abbey Road Studios, knowing that every single day you go to work there will be grown adults, right outside, acting like silly joyful children, writing mash notes on the studio walls, and furiously trying to set up photographs of folks crossing a very busy street over a nondescript 'zebra' crosswalk whilst Londoners just try to do their thing.
I think it is a real testament to the absolute brilliance and magic of the Beatles that they could make so many regular folks feel so blissfully childlike again, and act on those beautiful childlike wishes. It is an inadvertent Magical Performance Art installation that plays every day of the year.
How flipping beautiful is that.