The Longest Dream

The Longest Dream

By Rob Watson

As you may know, dreams usually have some basis in reality. Last nights dream was based on the “Fat Saturday” beer tasting event here in Town. It was a fund raiser for the local Carnival Museum.

Town has a history grown from the traveling carnival industry. The legend says that a local farmer traveled to the big city one day and saw a merry-go-round. He saw farmers riding their horses up to the machine. They got off the real horses and payed money to get on the fake animals that go round and round. When this farmer got back home he announced to his family that they would no longer farm. Thus began the local tradition of the traveling carnival.

Eventually several local families formed traveling carnivals and spent 75 or so seasons on the road. The Carnival Museum attempts to preserve this history and holds beer and wine tasting fund raisers semi annually. The tastings involve decorating the museum and serving many forms of foods to go with the beer or wine. This years event had a Mardi Gras theme.

I made chicken and sausage gumbo. Wife made several other South Louisiana dishes. I hauled most of them across to the event and, the empty dishes, back home again. I served the Gumbo and answered questions about the other dishes.

I went immediately to bed. During the night I awoke with a chill... Wife and I have a large home and a somewhat smaller budget. We set the thermostat to the 50-55 degree range to save on utilities... I was reluctant to get up and wander around looking for an additional blanket. I pulled the covers over my head and curled up, shivering slightly. Wife wakes up and inquires after my wellbeing. “I'm cold” is my response. “I'm cold too.” is hers. So, Gentleman that I am, I get up and go for a large comforter. As it turns out, too large.

In my dream, our classmate, Martha, was giving a party. I was in charge of serving the food. Martha had invited an wide array of famous guests, movie stars, and politicians. The only one I specifically remember was Drew Breese. When he arrived, some one said “Oh, look there is Drew Breese.” and one of my true Kansas friends responded “Who is Drew Breese?”

Under the influence of the too heavy comforter, I wake up hot and take a drink of water from my bedside supply. I move the covers around to cool off and drift back to sleep. The dream returns. I am wandering from room to room serving food, greeting Martha's guests, and hustling empty dishes.

Under the influence of the too heavy comforter, I wake up hot and take a drink of water from my bedside supply. I move the covers around to cool off and drift back to sleep. The dream returns. I am wandering from room to room serving food, greeting Martha's guests, and hustling empty dishes.

Under the influence of the too heavy comforter, I wake up hot and take a drink of water from my bedside supply. I move the covers around to cool off and drift back to sleep. The dream returns. I am wandering from room to room serving food, greeting Martha's guests, and hustling empty dishes.

Am I repeating myself? Well, yes. This continues hour after hour. I can't get cool. I keep getting thirsty. And, I keep dropping back into the same dream, hauling dishes from room to room, until my head is spinning.

Dusty, my cat, thinks 6AM is the proper time for everyone to wake up. With a loud and authoritative yowl, he rescues me from my dream.

Myself, not having all that many pressing tasks at 6AM, sit down and record the events of the night. That done, I think I will go snag a nap.