I’m generally pretty envious of all the fantastically crazy dreams Tony (and Steven) get. Last night, I had a great one:
I was at the White House, because I was in DC and it was just the best hotel around. While I was first there, I noticed that Christopher Walken was also there, shuffling around in a funk. I didn’t give it much consideration, although I thought it was unfortunate at the time.
Later, while out making repairs to the radio-powered hovercars in the DC area, I heard narration by Steve Pavlina (motivational blogger), talking about how Christopher Walkin could be the next Richard Dean Anderson. Specifically, he narrated off a list of 12 items necessary for someone to become really famous, and how Walkin has them all. I walked back to the White House during the middle of the list, and the narration faded out before Steve got to #12. By then, I had met Chris in the foyer, and we walked up to his room and started talking.
“Chris, you don’t seem that happy. I’m sure you could be better than this. In fact, I just heard twelve, well eleven, reasons why you could be a really big star.”
“Thanks, that’s really nice, I appreciate it. You know though, some people are really happy at odd times in their life, they say that Himmler was happiest after he was captured, you know he really enjoyed being injured*.”
“Chris, what are you talking about? you’re not at all like Himmler, and you’re not a captive. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I suppose you could consider me a captive. Bush makes me stay here and work on his air conditioning every day, and I really hate air conditioners, you know?”
“You’re being held captive by George Bush? That’s terrible!”
“I know, I know, but things are the way things are. You kids, you have all that communication stuff, you know, like the internet, and we don’t have that.”
“Chris, you’re being held captive. This isn’t about the internet! Or maybe it is…”
At this point, we take apart a laptop, and rig it up to create a new, better, faster internet that even old people can use. I’m pretty much just helping, Chris is the real genius behind it. We turn it on, and I watch a dial (that looks exactly like an old-school pressure gauge) go up and up into the red, where it’s marked as ‘working’, ‘great’, ‘fantastic’, ‘it can’t be any better’, and ‘macgyver level’. Suddenly, I realize that this internet has reached all parts of the world because I can hear it in my head (it’s telepathic).
“Chris, I told you that you could be great! Look at this!”
He smiles, laughs, and points to the dial, “You were right! Of course, not as great as Richard Dean Anderson, but that was amazing!”
At this point, my phone woke me up with its low battery sound. I was so excited about the dream I could hardly get back to sleep.
*I’m sure that’s historically inaccurate, and I don’t know what “injury” he’s referring to. I didn’t even know in the dream.