Last week I intended to write about a friendly visit by an Alien…
Well, I got sidetracked when I started to describe some of my re-occurring dreams. The most prominent are with me and my old lady. Sometimes we’re living in the mid 80s, sometimes in the grunge world of the 90s. Sometimes a current time period.
But one of the strangest, is a relatively short dream that takes place in the 20s. That’s the 1920’s.
Since there’s a writer’s strike, I’ll write the rest of the column in the style of a sitcom. That way, you don’t feel like you’re missing anything.
In this dream we’re rich. We have a very large luxurious home, with a nice turn-around driveway. I come home from a hard day at work and my wife greets me at the door, just like a 50s sitcom.
“Welcome home, honey! It’s so wonderful to have you back home.”
<Audience: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaawww.”>
“The help just finished dinner and it’ll be ready as soon as you get out of that suite…”
“Well, I’m ready to eat right now. No need for changing my clothes today.” I reply.
“Let’s head for the dining room shall we. Be careful not to get food on your nice new suite, we just bought that.”
<Que laugh track.>
The hall that leads to the dinning room has with large windows and double glass doors that reach out to the driveway turnaround. But as I enter the hall there’s a model T Ford parked in the hallway!
I stop in my tracks. “Why is your car parked in the hallway?” I inquire with ridiculous intonation.
<Que laugh track.>
“Oh, it started to rain, and I just had my car washed and polished and I didn’t want it to get dirty”.
<Que modest laugh track.>
“Look how shiny it is…isn’t it shiny dear?” My wife responds.
<More laughs.>
“Yeah, real shiny. You know what would be nice? If we had a garage built next to the house to park the cars in. Yes, our own garage, that would be nice.” I reply.
<Audience, “Ooooooooooooooh”.>
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, dear. Just think, our own garage. The neighbors will be so jealous!”
<Que laugh track.>
“Still, I don’t really like the idea of a car parked in my house. What if it leaks oil or something?” I reply.
“It’s not your house dear. Pappa bought if for us…remember, it was a gift.”
<Que laugh track.>
“I just don’t know what we’d do without Pappa.” She adds.
“Hey, I make plenty good money.” I reply.
<Audience, “Ooooooooooooooh”.>
“We’d do just fine without Pappa’s gifts. Still, I don’t like it there.” I say as we wedge our way thru the hall.
<Que laugh track.>
My wife just laughs at the idea. “Oh, you’re being silly, now lets talk about that garage…”
And the dream ends.
Funny, in one dream we’re stinking poor and the next time we’re stinking rich.
I just realized…I married the woman of my dreams!
AND NOW YOU KNOW!
Song in my head:
COMING NEXT: Aliens Come to Visit!
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