I have a hunch that my "Bio-Align Wellness Formula Herbal Defense Complex" might be similar to what the CIA gave Tim Robbins in Jacob's Ladder, as my dreams were super-weird for a second night in a row.
I spent yesterday swallowing thousands of milligrams of Vitamin C, downing tubes of immune-system-boosting pellets, sucking on bland zinc lozenges, and chugging fresh-squeezed Odwalla grapefruit juice (although I do that last bit sick or not, rain or shine).
Okay, the scene opens as Gib Dyer, his dad, and I are crammed into a hotel suite with a bunch of other guests at the Peninsula, Beverly Hills, crashing a wedding.
The Peninsula, B. Hills
We are kneecap-to-kneecap, sitting on folding chairs in the bedroom, trying to see into the living room, where vows are being exchanged. I'm completely confused, because it looks like the bride and the maid of honor are shoving cake into each others' mouths. Then I realize that the guy I thought was the groom is just a groomsman (or bridesmaid, I guess), and that the happy couple is in fact the two girls.
Diana Ross comes sashaying in late with an entourage and sits right in front of me. She has her hair teased up into a gigantic afro, so I can't see the proceedings anymore.
Diana Ross sporting afro
At that point, I excuse myself to take a shower in the suite's bathroom (that's normal, right?), and when I come back out I can't find Gib or his dad.
All of the sudden I'm waiting for a train in Beverly Farms, Mass. Jim White, Scott Piper (my old Deltec pals) and I are browsing in the little bookshop across the street from the station as we wait. When the train finally arrives, outbound from Boston, instead of train cars, it's pulling a string of yellow school buses. So, along with everyone else, I load up onto one of the buses, but not before glancing under the train/bus to see how it's attached to the tracks. It looks like a pretty crude setup, as the bus's flat tires are sort of mashed against the rails, hoping to stay attached.
Now I'm getting out of a helicopter in Kenya, delivering a shipment of soccer balls to a young group of enthusiastic Masai tribesmen and kids. They seem to really love it!
Masai Tribesmen
Finally, I'm an omniscient observer as the "camera" of the dream pans back and forth between Kenya and a lovely scene of autumn in Vermont, complete with beautiful changing leaves, as the Mark Knopfler/Dire Straits tune "Going Home" plays in the background.
Autumn leaves in Vermont
I am somehow able to "rewind" the dream, so I keep watching the nice scene over and over.
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