This is the time for Winter Dreams. Okay, maybe they are phantasies; but I do think they began as dreams during the night, in the deep recesses of my mind. I was burrowed under the blankets of my bed. Warm. There were three. Let’s get into it.
Dream One
I walk away. Out the door of my apartment with just a backpack. In it is this computer and my iPad, charging mechanisms, a water bottle, my journal, some pens. My real camera. Also, I’ve packed in some extra socks, shorts, long underwear, etc. A couple books. I’m wearing my work overalls, have my wallet, Swiss army knife, and iPhone attached. A knit cap on my head.
In the dream, I live here in Westminster. Outside. In the wild. I’m “homeless”. Home base is the open space behind the complex. I sleep on and under benches. Under trees burrowed like a bear. I live amongst the wild coyotes and other creatures.
I have money in the bank. Enough. Furthermore, the Social Security deposit arrives on schedule every month. I eat well.
I continue to check in with Psych-girl. More frequently now because I’ve not as many other expenses. Just the food, whiskey, and occasional movie and book. She asks, “How are you doing? Are you sleeping and eating all right? Are you keeping warm?”
Dream Two
I’ve decided Dream One is too extreme. I don’t have to leave everything. I can take my car. Live out of it, travel and camp. I’ve done it before. Many times, beginning in 1970. Sessions with Psych-girl have restored my physical health. Gone is the crippling pain.
I’ll leave in August when my lease is up. Have an estate sale–like a garage sale. Rent a storage unit for the leftovers and keepsakes. This is temporary. I’ll look around for stable, fixed shelter as I travel. Something pleasant and affordable. A cabin, maybe. Like before.
First, I’ll buy some new gear – sleeping bag, tent, cooler. Upgrade. Maybe take up fishing again? I’ll head north. Up to Wyoming and over to South Dakota. Like before. Check in with Psych-girl via her virtual option.
Then I think, dream maybe … ? I’ll travel around Colorado doing the hot springs loop. It’s an 800 mile journey beginning in Steamboat Springs. That’d be a gas.
Speaking of, I’ll get my car, the Batmobile, tuned up. Maybe new paint? It runs the same as it did when I bought it – twenty-plus years ago. It has a cassette deck! I’ve 100s of tapes. From before, when the music was great! Maybe buy some weed?
But wait, I think when I wake. I’ve got my journal. From before. It was the fall of 2007. I was fifty-six. Sitting down in the rocker with a glass of whiskey, I begin to read. Uh-oh.
It turns out I was mostly miserable. I would cry sometimes. It was cold and my body ached. My head hurt and all I wanted was a warm bed. Oh sure – there were some good times and great scenery. I met some nice, kind people. Even sold some books. However, at the end of the day I was alone. Moreover, tired. Exhausted mentally and physically. I was not content. Furthermore, I was seventeen years younger.
Am I crazy?
Dream Three
is what I want. In it, The World wakes up. The People roll over because the past three years have been so awful. They decide maybe they’ve been hoodwinked. Gaslit by the experts and the media. The People decide to give my book, Election 2016, a look-see.
From it, they discover that Donald Trump is not the monster as he was portrayed Instead, just a man. Albeit a unique one. In fact, he’s a folk hero.
(A folk hero is one who blends fiction and non fiction into a reality that is almost unbelievable because it is so rare.)
The book flies off the shelves. Now, The People understand how and why Trump won in 2016. I become, almost, a folk hero myself. Because I saw and told the truth.
Instead of being homeless, I purchase an estate on Bear Creek. Or maybe on the Poudre River? There, I truly retire. I watch the river run from the veranda and sip whiskey, listen to music. Watch the seasons turn.
Psych-girl tells me, “You’ve earned it.” Because she believes we earn our fate – that “It’s up to you.”
Sometimes, dreams do come true.