So there I was in my old elementary school gymnasium, taking in a concert. I was my current age of thirty-three, though, perhaps participating in some reunion event or something of that nature. I didn’t recognize any classmates save for one, and I won’t mention his name (mostly because he doesn’t really factor into the plot of the dream anyway).
There were way more people there than ever went to our school, though. The scene actually reminded me of the day back in…uh…first grade maybe, when Chuck Grassley spoke at an assembly of ours. I assume that’s how he’s managed to get elected for 150 straight terms, by getting voters when they’re young and impressionable. The Philip Morris method, if you will.
At any rate, I’m at my school, taking in a concert. Phil Collins is opening his “Not Dead Yet” comeback tour (which I didn’t make up, by the way, that’s actually the title of his recently published memoir). In reality, I think Phil kicked off said tour at this past year’s US Open tennis tournament. In my dream, however, it happened at Central Lyon Elementary School in Rock “Freaking” Rapids, Iowa…go figure.
So he’s up there doing his thing – and sounding great, I might add – building to the epic climax of “In the air Tonight.” I’m getting the tinglies just writing this, actually. If you’re not, well, maybe you’re not a human. He looked like this:
And then he belts “no stranger to you and me!” Here it comes! He stops with a dramatic pause as we all wait for the greatest drum fill of all time. And then we wait some more. And then he starts moving into the crowd. I’m starting to wonder if this is part of the show. Everyone assumes he’s rousing up the madness, just ready to let all hell break lose there at center court. Still no drums…
Eventually he gets right up in front of me, and now I can see that he’s just half-assed chatting with the crowd while checking his text messages and trying to make his way to something else of interest. Then I hear him call out to his father who also happens to be (in real life) the father of one of my other schoolmates from back in the day. So I guess I knew two people in this dream. Anyway, he asks “Dad” if he can get him another box of matches so that he has “something to chew on.”
He’s already chewing on another match, and the box he wants to replace is still quite full. They’re strange looking matches, apparently made of some kind of silver-colored plastic near as I can tell. He hands the box to his dad (my actual classmate’s dad) who proceeds to pull a match out of the box to light a can of Cheetos on fire and drink the waxy/plastic-y dripping in some desperate attempt to get high. Somehow he’s not melting his face and doesn’t even appear to be in any discomfort, which speaks to the extent of his addiction, I would say. He also looks a little young to be Phil Collins’ dad.
I watch in horror as this crazy person drinks melted Cheetos residue, wondering what on earth is happening as Phil Collins continues chatting with his fans who are all over him. And they’re all at least a foot taller than him. He’s acting like some popular, spoiled brat high schooler who, now that I pay closer attention, looks like a really young Anthony Hopkins. I think my recent indulgences in the HBO series Westworld are to thank for that image. And then I wake up. And then I eat my baby. Okay, just kidding about the baby. No babies were consumed this time around, in the dream or otherwise.
Another Vivid Dream…but Not Lucid 🙁
So yeah, still no lucid dreams, which is a shame because, if this had been one, there are so many things I could have done with it. I could have asked Sir Phil-Anthony Hopkins what the real meaning is behind “In the Air Tonight,” if he actually misses performing or just squandered his fortune on fancy suits, what it’s like to be knighted, what human brains taste like (Hello, Clarice!), and where his neck has been disappearing to over the years. I also could have asked his “dad” why drinking melted Cheetos, container and all, sounded like a good idea. What a waste.
I did, however, learn a few things from the dream that was:
- If two famous people that I’ve seen recently look even remotely similar, my brain won’t hesitate to meld them together into one amalgamated caricature
- Much like all my nightmares of Jason, Chucky, Freddy, and dinosaurs during childhood, characters from shows and movies I’ve watched recently have a very high probability of making it into my nighttime subconscious theater
- I actually CAN have a dream about elementary school that doesn’t involve being late to class, not being able to find my classroom, or being chased and picked on by bullies
The Quest Continues…
I’m finding it’s harder to induce lucid dreams than I had hoped. Also, I haven’t been working at it very hard lately, so that makes it even harder (that’s what she said). It’s definitely a second-tier initiative of mine at this point, more like a nice bonus if it happened, but I don’t actively think about it until I have a cool, vivid dream like this one about Mr. Collins. My mind has been more consumed with solar panels, President-elect Trump, and personality tests (there will be another post coming out in the near future on that topic).
Anyway, this will be a short update since it was a short dream. And I’m tired. But I’ll be sure to continue updating should I ever make it to the land of lucid dreams and paleo lollipops. In the mean time, if you haven’t taken the Bert Betterman Readers’ Survey yet, that would be a cool thing to do. You can click on that link in the previous sentence or go to the Readers’ Survey tab here on the site. And if you have any cool dreams or comments to share, as always, they’re more than welcome here! I like reading as much as I like writing.
Just for nostalgia’s sake: