"Dreeeeeeem, dream, dream, dream......"
No, Dreamer, it is not like that at all. Your dream is but a pale shadow of true Fieldingarooniness. Let me initiate you into the mysteries. What happens is, first, you must purify yourself with days of fasting and daubs of sacred unguent. Then, with trembling in your heart, you prostrate yourself approximately 3,000 times in the direction of Kingston Road. When the "Fielding Force" senses you are humble enough, then -- and only then -- are you allowed to grovel on gravel to the subshrine where SHE WHO CONTROLS THE SCHEDULE AND CAN EVEN FORCE HIS FIELDINGNESS TO DO SOME GARDENING dwells. If SHE, ETC., ETC. determines that you are 1/1000,000,000,000,000th of the way along the path towards Fieldingosity then you are put on the list. This is usually enough to cause students to expire from sheer bliss. Those who are strong enough to survive are, after long years of further purification and internal integration of self, allowed (eyes lowered) into the presence of....into the presence of....[I am unable to speak the holy words, fill in the space yourself, O you of little faith]. Following more months of preparation, and your eyes getting accustomed to the bright light emanating from each fingertip, you might be allowed to touch an instrument that he has played. Many have died from inexpressible joy at this point. I have been privileged recently to play "House of the Rising Sun" with R***F****** during a lesson. According to "RISE UP FIELDING" (The Holy Book), this entitles me to 3 rooms of carpeting and 5,000 years remission of my time in the 4th hell from the bottom. Such is the majesty of Fielding!!!!!! Look on his playing, ye mighty, and DESPAIR!!!!!!!!
yours, Peter T.