I have always been a vivid dreamer.
I can even remember certain dreams I had when I was a kid. Oh….and I was a sleepwalker. I’d end up in really crazy places around the house and often went outside. I remember one particular night in the dead of winter when my really helpful older sister opened the door for me so I wouldn’t accidentally bump my head on it. Wasn’t that sweet? Thankfully, my dad caught me before I started across the frozen tundra that was our back yard which was a good thing since I wasn’t wearing my jammies with the feet in them. I think I was dreaming about getting to school on time.
As an adult, a recurring subject in my dreamworld has to do with plane….disasters. I don’t want to actually type the word c-r-a-s-h even though that’s what they are. Funny thing is, they always end up with everyone safe and sound even though we always seem to shave off an entire layer of pristine forest or tear up a stretch of urban freeway both scenarios of which would normally end up as a true disaster. To spice things up, I am often outside the plane clinging to some little flap or piece of metal on the wing. OoooooWeeeee! I’m here to tell ‘ya, that’s one wild ride.
But last night was different.
It wasn’t a plane c-r-a-s-h. It was Liza Minnelli.
And yes, she was in her full-on Cabaret garb strutting around my dream like a demented flapper trying to re-capture some glorified past. I think I tried to be a good audience but it was interrupted by an interloping Robert Redford who put a stop to her vaudevillian nonsense in a very director-like this-just-ain’t-workin’ sorta of way.
I felt sorry for her.
I’m just happy Joel Grey didn’t show up in that creepy lipstick dropping coins down his pants.
I feel safer in “aviation” dreamland.