Okay this is really strange, even for me. I had the weirdest dream this morning where I encountered President Bush at an event here in Des Moines. I was on our “freeway,” which had been turned into a giant pedestrian conveyor belt (4 lanes each way and VERY crowded) and after stepping off the “freeway” I met Pres. Bush as he was waiting around to head back to his hotel. He asked me to recommend a good place to have dinner – I suggested either Helen & Pat’s or Gino’s, but I found out later he had fried chicken at Chuck’s and really enjoyed it. (All three of these are real restaurants here, all in the same neighborhood.)
He asked me to make sure a particular piece of his luggage got delivered back to the hotel before he returned from dinner. I turned to collect the briefcase he’d mentioned and there were BAD GUYS stealing documents out of it, lead by John Laroquette, the comically sleazy lawyer from the TV show “Night Court” and now the host of a collectibles show on the Home/Garden network.
I successfully beat them back with some sort of stick I found nearby, recovered the documents (all but one, which was in the hands of an evil-scientist leader-guy who told me, “I’ll get the rest later”) and started for the hotel… just as my husband yelled at me to get up and get in the shower.
The concept of the conveyor intrigues me… it was like a large-scale version of the ones you see in busy airports that are usually only one strip wide – and, there was a group of tourists on it in front of me who were worried about finding the right exit. Ever the mom/community cheerleader, I reassured them that Des Moines was a great place to visit, the conveyor wasn’t normally this busy, and I would help them find their stop.
And the deal with Bush and the briefcase, well, guess I just want my chance to help save the world. At one point, Bush handed me an obviously-fake $20 bill and commented, “I just wanted you to see what they’re saying about me” – and instead of a portrait on the bill, there was a cartoon of Bush, his face showing through some infant swaddling clothes, lying in a crib next to another figure that was labeled somehow like editorial cartoonists do – suggesting somehow that he was a baby with a strange bedfellow…? Gads, who knows. Must’ve been something I ate right before bedtime.
Editor’s note: This post originally appeared in 2002 on my first blog, “A Blogger Looks at Forty.” I am no longer having dreams about President Bush, but I do have nightmares about the prospect of a second term for Barack Obama.