My Dream

My dream
march 11, 2000

I was at a children’s music festival, like ‘Nic at Night’ or something although that wasn’t it. I was sitting next to B and you were sitting in front of us, even though we were going out, so I was a little confused about that. I didn’t arrange the seating though, I sat before you guys did.

The main reason I sat where I did was that the had been ice skating before hand and I spotted one of the skaters and sat next to him. He was really tall, and I was surprised that he was able to skate so well while he was having a growth-spurt (I’d seen him before and he had gotten taller since then) of course tact doesn’t count in dreams, so I told him that and he laughed. He kind of agreed, but I guess he was good enough it didn’t matter.

At one point B reached down and poked you while you were stretching, and I thought that was pretty funny, but then you looked annoyed and I thought you thought I’d done it. So I was trying to proclaim my innocence with hand-signals (didn’t want to interrupt the people watching the show) and you looked like you knew anyway.

During the intermission I ditched B but I couldn’t find you, so I wound up sitting next to Phil. This wasn’t at church, so he wasn’t directing. They passed out candy and balloons for everyone, and I made sure I got my share as it went down the aisles. I was looking for you, but I couldn’t find you, and then the show started so I had to be quiet.

There was a little girl who was supposed to do a solo, but she was too scared and one of the adults had to do it for her. (there was a huge audience) She was crying and her mom was holding her, but she was mouthing the words and the people behind her could tell she wanted to sing it and the all started making sympathetic noises at her. Then a bunch of people got up and moved to where she was sitting and I guess were listening to her instead of the soloist. I don’t know if anything happened after that, but the solo ended.

Next some pastor-type person got up and was talking about when he was younger he was at a men’s prayer breakfast and they had given out bottles of anti-freeze. He compared it to the way they’d given out candy for this show, except that it was something unexpected and different. They’d talked about the symbolism of anti-freeze and how you needed the holy spirit the way your car needs that, or something strange. What he got out of it was a sense of excitement about having his very own bottle of anti-freeze to put in his truck. He went home and his someone told him it was silly to put anti-freeze in a 300 year old truck that leaked water like a sieve, but his Dad told him it was his bottle and to do what he liked with it. So he put it in, and even though it probably didn’t do anything for the truck it gave him a sense of accomplishment and pride in that old truck of his.

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