Columns

2009.08.26 My dream life is way less boring than my real one

on . Posted in Nowhere Road

By RICH FOLEY

I’ve been having a rash of strange dreams lately. Even worse, I’ve been keeping notes of the better ones, so you’ll all have to hear about them. Stop complaining, it’s not that bad. Heck, if you were a friend of my dream self, you, too, could meet celebrities and maybe get some cash.

The cash would be courtesy of Brad Pitt, who hired me in one dream to aid in his philanthropic activities. My job was pretty simple. All I had to do was follow him around, carry a big bag of cash, and dispense it as directed.

Say a woman would come up to him and ask for money to feed her family. “Give her $200,” Brad would tell me, and I would dole out the cash.

Sometimes he’d want my advice. A man ran up to him outside a restaurant and said he’d lose his job unless he could get the radiator on his car fixed so he could get to work.  Brad asked me how much I thought that would cost. I told him probably between $200 and $300.

“Better make it $400,” Brad told me. “It’ll cost me a lot more if he loses his job.” And so it went. I never did see Angelina Jolie.

In another dream, I was hired to work in public relations for Chevrolet after suggesting they employ actor and former wrestler Dwayne Johnson to do ads for Chevy trucks. Chevy went for my idea that their trucks used to be advertised as “Like a rock” and Johnson used to be called “The Rock.” Goofy, maybe, but they bought it.

I met Johnson at a press event to introduce the new ads and was able to answer a couple of Chevrolet trivia questions he had. During his question and answer period with the media, someone asked him a question he didn’t have an answer for.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Ask Doctor Chevrolet,” he added, pointing at me. To save Dwayne any embarrassment, I answered the question. Then another reporter turned to me and said, “Doctor Chevrolet, I have a question, too.” I ended up answering nearly as many queries as Johnson.

Next thing I knew, I was doing a series of “Ask Doctor Chevrolet” commercials for the car brand and left my regular public relations job behind, all thanks to a retired wrestler.

In another dream, I was a reporter in a presidential campaign. I’m not sure what candidate I was covering, but his press secretary was Tina Fey (or possibly Sarah Palin, I’m not sure). Tina/Sarah was always yelling at the reporters and it wasn’t a fun job.

One day, our press bus was arriving at a campaign stop just as another event was breaking up. While we were stuck in traffic, we saw a rival candidate walking nearby. He spotted me on the bus and walked over.

“I like your work, and I need a new communications director,” he said. “Interested?”

“Watch how fast I get off this bus,” I told him. When Tina (or Sarah) asked me where I was going, I answered, “To help the next President.  And ride in a quieter bus.” 

Then, finally, there’s the birthday party dream. In this one, someone (I’m not sure who) has talked Don and Jane Stiriz into renting The Pizza Stop for a private occasion, namely a birthday party for yours truly.

Not only are Don and Jane on hand to provide the food, but the organizer has paid Don to construct a small performance stage for the entertainment. That’s where it starts to get interesting. It seems that somehow Bruce Springsteen has been convinced to add my birthday party to his concert tour. It may be the smallest venue Bruce has ever played.

The road crew arrived early in the day and have had things ready for hours, but Springsteen is late. No one seems to know what the holdup is, but it’s after midnight and there’s still no sign of Bruce. Don and Jane had agreed to serve food until midnight and close at 1 a.m., so it looks like we’re going to miss the featured performer.

Finally, at 12:45, Springsteen rolls into Fayette. He makes apologies all around and tells us he’s willing to play all night if it’s all right with the management. Then he meets Don Stiriz.

“I’ll tell you what, pal,” Don says, checking his watch. “You’ve got less than ten minutes before I shut off the power. Better choose your song carefully.” Springsteen then came over to me.

“I think I just learned who ‘The Boss’ really is,” Bruce said. “What do you want me to do now?” I thought for a second and said, “Why not play ‘Glory Days’ and call it a night? That kind of sums it all up, doesn’t it?”

 Bruce laughed, said “Good choice” and headed for the stage. Next dream, I hope he manages to get here on time.

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