I woke up this morning (don’t worry, not going to sing the blues) saying out loud “but that never happened”. Then I remembered the dream I’d just been having. In it I was being interviewed for some job or other by a very strange man. The interview consisted of us driving around in his very big car looking for some bank where he could open an account (don’t know what that was about, I don’t know anything about banking, except that it seems to be harder than bankers thought) while he continually talked in a high speed, stream of consciousness-type way, like the new Doctor Who on coffee. He wore an immaculate three-piece suit and a lovely coat, except at the end of the interview, when we got out one either side of the car and he was now wearing dungarees with no shirt on underneath, and a bowler hat. We then walked round to the back of the car and hugged tightly. When we disembraced we found two young female tourists standing right beside us holding a map, about to ask for directions and, in perfect synchronisation and without saying a word to each other, each of us grabbed and hugged one of the girls.
So far there seems little point in telling you all this tale, other than to illustrate that somewhere in the back of my mind I still believe that I am attractive to young women. But the reason I’m relating it is that at one point in his chatter he said:
“So, which Frasier are you? Surely you’ve heard that there are seven Frasier personalities, and everyone is one of them. There’s Exasperated Frasier, Charming Frasier, etc (yes, he actually said et cetera). I’m Cranky Frasier, which one are you”?
When I was fully awake and remembered this I thought “well, what the hell are the other four”? I thought it was the best interview question I’d ever heard and was really impressed with the guy, until I remembered that he doesn’t exist and so the question is actually mine, and what seemed likely a clever question from someone else seems frighteningly deranged when you realise that your sleeping brain has thought it up itself.
Anyway, since I’m off work today and it actually is raining (well done, Irish Times weather forecasters) I’ve decided to explore this idea further. The best I can up with for the four missing personalities is Listening Frasier, Snobby Frasier, Cutting Remark Frasier and Sideshow Bob Frasier (in which he fantasises that he’s the voice of a cartoon character).
And which one am I? Well, not the last one, although I do do a mean impression of Snagglepuss. After that, though, I think that I am all of the rest of them, and I reckon most other people are too. Because I think that’s the reason for the success of Frasier (though God knows I haven’t seen an episode in years), that he’s essentially a good, well-meaning man who is continually frustrated and stymied by the world we live in and by his own idiosyncracies.
So there you go, slightly weird post today. Actually, reading it back and thinking about the dream itself, there’s only one conclusion I can come to.
I don’t go to my shrink often enough.