A Crazy Dream- That Made Sense

I really did have this dream last night.

I had been invited to the White House as an honored guest. For what I do not know. But in dreams you never think to ask questions. Anyway, I was sitting in a special section of honored guests at an event of some sort... there was music playing on the stage... and the great man and his lovely wife were sitting up front, tall and dignified, and I was proud to be there and proud to be an American. It was a golden dream.

Then after a break, I was told that it was my turn to sit with the president and first lady. And like a child going to Santa Claus, I got up from my seat and came down a few rows to the front and took my seat. The music was already started again, so there were no time for introductions, no hand shaking, but it was fine by me. It was such an honor, just to stand next to, sit down at the right hand of President Barack Obama.

I wondered if he knew that I usually voted Republican, and had never liked his politics, and certainly had never cast a vote for him. Nor had many people whom I knew, for that matter. Whether he did or not, he was very kind and gracious to me, and I took my seat and just basked in the glory and diversity of our wonderful country. Realizing we had never been formally introduced, the fatherly president just took my left hand, and rested our clasped hands on his knee. And then he lovingly placed his left hand on top of mine. I took it as an affectionate gesture, and decided to finish this bipartisan love fest with my right hand, but as I put it on top of our mound of hands, he brushed it away. This had been a presumptuous and preposterous gesture on my part. After all, it was his shindig.

But it was my dream, and staring at first lady Michelle's long, slender, beautifully bejeweled fingers, perfectly manicured nails, her hands clasped angelically at his other side, my eyelids suddenly got very heavy, and my head slowly dropped and leaned on the towering president's shoulder. I tried to stay awake, but a part of me wanted to nestle and doze on his shoulder, like a little boy. And I did. President Obama did not seem to mind, he seemed to almost understand, like this often happened to him. He sat typically dignified, totally composed, as I shrugged off any possible embarrassment- as one does in crazy dreams, and I just melted into the music and the beauty of the moment.

Soon, the concert was over, and people were scattering like they do. We were ushered through the throng and showed a faster way, THE way out of the venue for the Prez and his entourage. Quickly, forcefully we marched into the darkness, and once again, forgetting my place, I took the lead. And it was a good thing. No sooner had we outdistanced the teaming mass of people behind us, we came upon a fifteen foot drop, where there had once been a grand stone stairway. Now it was a muddy cliff. With the crowd pressing behind, I shrugged and trusted my dream and jumped.

Maybe I thought I would go first... somewhat protectively, to see if the president and first lady would be safe... and instantly I landed on the crumbly earth below... farther down than I anticipated but without much incident. But it was too far, and still on all fours, I yelled for the President not to try it, for fear that he might break a leg. And certainly the first lady should not try to jump it. But before I could get their attention they were already jumping and they landed and bounced like Olympians.

President Obama chuckled, took it all in stride, and stood up faster than me, since sadly, I was still a 65 year-old man, in my dream, and not so resilient. Meanwhile, many followers came trustingly behind him. He graciously helped me up, as if it happened every day. It did not seem to surprise or fluster him that government workers had destroyed his exit, and left a dangerous precipice that would certainly harm hundreds of others, even cripple some of them. 

We were dirty now, and a little shaken, but I thought, what a nice guy. What a strong and good-natured fellow. Nothing seemed to bother him, and he is always glib, and well spoken. And I realized in my soul, in my real mind, how much I missed that kind of dignity in my president.

Then I looked back at the muddy bluff, with people spilling over like lemmings. Some were making it. Many were turning back. Mounting numbers of faithful followers were broken and wounded at the base of this hole that had once been a trusted stairway. Some were laying about unconscious and not moving. The news of our president confidently leading hundreds or thousands over a cliff was certainly going to be a national crisis. And I thought, that was too bad, but it was just a dream, a ridiculous scenario, and I was not worried at all.

I knew that soon enough, President Trump would fix it. And Americans, whether they liked him or not, would be safe again.

I was pretty sure that President Trump would never invite me to a White House concert, and if he did, he would knock me out of my honored place if I laid my head on his shoulder! He is not much of a father figure... never very comforting. But he understands very well how to survive in a world full of pitfalls, and takes charge of problems like a construction foreman. Trump has been visioning, building, and fixing things and making them work all of his life; Showing a profit in New York City. And now he has begun to fix many things in our country, against incredible, deliberate obstructions. And as I awoke, I knew which kind of president I would rather have.