I
feel fortunate that I have very vivid dreams. Over the course of my life, I
have had several dreams with presidents in them. Once, I was helping Ronald
Reagan from a car into one of our family’s favorite restaurants in Manhattan,
Ye Waverly Inn in the Village (that’s Greenwich Village for non-New Yorkers).
BTW, they have the best chicken pot pies! In another, my wife and I were
meeting with Woodrow Wilson. I was some sort of cabinet secretary for Health
and we were trying to convince the president to support funding for a new
hospital project. I rode a roller coaster with George W. Bush (well, that one
might be easier to interpret than the others). He was wearing a suit in the
roller coaster, which obviously means this was some sort of non-recreational,
business ride. Over the years, LBJ, Lincoln, Nixon, and Obama have made their
appearances.
On
Sunday night I had a dream with FDR. I was over tired when I finally went to
bed and greatly aggravated because my car driver’s side window regulator (the
doohickey that makes the windows go up and down) broke late that night. I had
been watching the Ken Burns Roosevelt videos on Netflix that evening. In my
dream I was sitting at table in a small apartment. The table cloth was
checkered. There were no colors in this dream, it was more sepia toned. FDR was
sitting next to me with that big smile and he made be a hero sandwich. Sliced it.
Wrapped it. Gave it to me, saying “here is your sandwich.” I thanked him
profusely. Put my arm around him, and promised that I would vote for something.
Not sure if I pledged to vote for him in an election or if I was supposed to be
a Congressman or not.
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