Who The Hell Is Midge Ure?

My boss doesn’t make me work overtime, she doesn’t dump her workload on me, nor does she yell at me.  She does something far worse.  Every morning she tells me about the dream she had the night before.  I’d rather put up with the extra work.

There’s money to be made when you work overtime.  There’s a shot at a raise or a promotion by doing extra work.  But listening to her dreams?  There ain’t  nothin’ but boredom there.  Take last night’s dream as an example.

“I had tickets to a Midge Ure concert,” she said to me while she was waiting for her computer to warm up.  “But it was ‘Ultravox’ Midge Ure, not 2105 era Midge Ure, so he still had hair.”

Okay, first off, who the hell is Midge Ure?  Secondly, what on earth is an Ultravox?  A quick search on the internet taught me that Ultravox was a British synth-pop band from the 1980’s, and Midge Ure was the lead singer.  As if a twenty-seven year old man who’s in to death metal would know that.  Not only that, but Midge (please tell me that’s a made up name, otherwise his parents were as bad as Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow) also cofounded the musical charity, Band-Aid with Bob Geldof.  Did you know that there was someone other than Bob Geldof responsible for that?  Thanks to me – and Wikipedia – you now do.

“Only I couldn’t remember where I put the tickets,” she continued.  “I was freaking out because I had paid eighty dollars each for them.  I know, as if Midge Ure could charge those kind of prices!  Anyway, I spent half the dream trying to find the tickets and the other half trying to dodge security during the show because I didn’t have the tickets on me.   On stage with Midge were these performance artists – you, know – kind of like Laurie Anderson (again with her old people references!), who were acting out the songs he was singing.  All the while I kept thinking, ‘Graham should be here.  Graham loves this theatrical stuff!’  Weird, huh?  I mean, you don’t even like musicals.”

Do you know what else I don’t like?  Listening to other people talk about their dreams.  But, listening to hers pays my rent, so I pretend that I’m totally fascinated.

“Wow!” I said to her.  “You have the freakiest dreams!  What do you eat before going to bed?”

“Nothing, I swear!  It must just be my one-of-a-kind brain.”

Yeah, you’re one-of-a-kind alright, lady.

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