I Had A Dream

Growing up, I seldom dreamed anything I could remember but since I have "matured", I find the need to swallow half a Benadryl at night to sleep and a pleasant side benefit is that I have memorable dreams almost every night.

This time it was about my good friend, Dave.  You see, he served an honorable mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this area some time ago and immediately became one of my favorite people.  Dave then carried a photograph of his exquisite girlfriend waiting back home, Gillian (who he referred to as his "Babalicious").  Upon his return, they married, had a gaggle of children and are presently living the dream (not this one, but their's).  Dave has a great job, they have literally tons of friends, absolutely beautiful children and Gillian, an extraordinary individual in her own right, is the quintessential woman behind the man.

So, you know how bizarre dreams can get . . . apparently I went to see Dave's family and he and I wound up playing in a garage band.  I was on the drums (see addendum to this blog) and Dave had an electric guitar, sort of crouched down, hiding behind someone, acting all shy.  If you knew Dave like I know Dave, you'd acknowledge how weird THAT is.  Dave may be many things to many people, but none of them include his being shy.  He leans more toward gregariousness. There he was, looking as handsome as ever.  In contrast to most of us who actually age, Dave is more like Benjamin Button, seeming to grow younger every year.  

Alas, in the time it has taken me to post this entry, I have forgotten the remainder of the dream.  But as we so often ask ourselves after a dream, " what does it mean?"  I have decided that I must be missing them and should make arrangements to go visit sometime when I am awake.  That explains why someone shows up in my dreams that I may or may not have seen in the last few decades.  Out of nowhere, the strangest of acquaintances appear in my slumber when I least expect them. 

There are so many of those neglected visits that come to mind.  I am sure hoping that in the hereafter, it will somehow be the standard to be able to mingle with all those we love . . . that missing someone will no longer be an affliction like it is in this life. 

Addendum:  Once upon a time, long long ago, I had been riding in the sweltering heat, suffocating humidity and relentless mosquitos on a trail ride.  Usually there was a wagon adjoining us that carried cold water and soft drinks, but this particular year, they were out of everything but beer, a staple on trail rides.  

 At one point we stopped to rest when my dad drove up to check on me and my horse.  I shared my pitiful story with him and even though there was little he could do about the elements, he could surely get me something to quench my thirst. Off he went and I assumed he would find the nearest convenience store, but he quickly returned with a HUGE container of ice cold beer from said wagon.  Sorely underage, I questioned it about two seconds and sitting down, I chugalugged the beer, which contained ice crystals, something I had never enjoyed so much before (nor since).  When I stood up, it was clear to me that I was much more than rehydrated.

Very shortly after, we stopped at our destination for the night and the typical festivities began, to include a small band on a stage set up high, nearly in the trees.  Feeling "enlightened" from my previous beverage, somehow I managed to find myself talking to the drummer, who convinced me it was so easy to play the drums for slow country music, kind of an oom-pa-pa beat and he showed me how to do it.  It WAS easy!

When Daddy came to pick me up, he looked all around, but finally found me up on the stage, pounding out the heartbeat for some slow country song and he was so excited, he immediately bought a second-hand trap set.  Hoping I was a child prodigy (or an organ-grinder monkey), he would implore me to play for company who might drop by.  With no obvious talent, not having had the benefit of lessons,  or even some background music to accompany me, I just froze.  I'm sure it's not the only time he's ever been disappointed in me, but I'd bet it's right up there at the top.

Good parents know the importance of exposing their children to an eclectic assortment of activities to learn what they may be naturally good at.  Apparently, without the influence of a huge bucket of ale, I cannot play the drums.  At all.