How Dreams are Made

Dream One: Dad somehow kept buying items from “How It’s Made,” some of them quite large and industrial: a full order of 20 foot iron sewer pipes sitting in our long driveway, a pill dispenser built for a full service pharmacy, a jet turbofan engine for a Harrier Jump Jet to be used for an emergency generator when ConEd goes tits up during the summer, etc. His arguments for all of them made sense to his demented mind, and I couldn’t stop him from making the orders. I was arguing with him about not ordering the truck bed liners as he told me why he needed them and how they’re made. Of course, I woke up with his narrative blending into the TV’s Voice Over narrative. At least passing out to “How It’s Made” makes for interesting dreams.

Dream Two: A mobster I insulted sent me to a shoe cobbler to design the shoes for the dudes who were going to stomp my ass later. The mobster sat next to the shoe cobbler, and in a flat, soothing voice using an active and present tense, he explained all of the steps of the process as the cobbler built my ass kicking shoes. As the ass kicking shoes were just about completed, I woke up to the mobster’s voice blending into the narrative for a “How It’s Made” episode on shoe cobbling. Sleeping to “How It’s Made” never disappoints.