Listen, Dream Weaver guy, Gary Wright, or whatever your name is, I work during the night. I don't need you to get me through the night, or to reach the morning light. I really only need you to get me through a few hours of peaceful slumber without the constant interruption of weird dreams. That should fall within the realm of possibility for an omnipotent Dream Weaver, right? Just please, lay off the psychotropic drug use, Dream Weaver, and spin me something other than the bizarro world you've infiltrated my sleep with lately. Whatever happened to the Dream Weaver work ethic? Why don't you provide me with some useful dreams, like winning lottery numbers, or how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop? The shorter the amount of time I have for laying my butt in bed, the more calm and restful it should feel. And yet, I'm constantly waking up exhausted with a sopping wet, slobbery pillow in the wee hours of the morning.
I swear that TV station owners back in the early 1980's, had to sign a contractual clause stipulating that they would agree to show constant repeats of the 1978 comedy farce, 'Foul Play,' every night of the week. And show it non-stop they did! I mean, movies with midgets, Dudley Moore, and a psycho albino killer just makes for good cinematic fun. But, it wears a little thin by the the umpteenth time you've sat through it because you're too lazy to find the remote to turn it off.
So, last night I dreamed that I received the honor of meeting his Holy Grace, The Pope. Yeah, Pope Benedict XVI himself, rocking the robe and beanie cap look to the max. Instead of his traditional white robes, though, he appeared dressed in a very stylish black and red gown ensemble. I reverently knelt before him upon our introduction, and then proceeded to engage in enlightened conversation, wherein the talk turned to matters of entertainment. I vividly recall that I started chuckling and enthusiastically told the Pope, "Hey, that's just like the movie, 'Foul Play.'" The Pope looked at me quizzically saying, "My child, I'm not familiar with that particular film." I gave him a buddy slap on the arm and said, "Yeah, you know, the Chevy Chase movie about a plot to assassinate the Pope. It was soooo funny!" Then security abruptly swooped in, whisking the Pope away from me. Obviously, the papal security team knew that a potential threat lie in anyone who would reference a lame Chevy Chase movie.
A lot of my dreams have a precognitive quality to them, and they often come to fruition. I've made a mental note to myself that if I'm ever to meet the Pope, I will not bring up the subject of 'Foul Play.' No, I'll keep to safe topics like 'The DaVinci Code,' or maybe the vast complexities of that TV show, 'The Flying Nun.'