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Me and the "Great Communicator"

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Last week I had a dream about Ronald Reagan. As our economy collapses and we prepare to elect one of two utterly unqualified men to the White House, I thought I'd share what I wrote about a dream in which I almost met the man who destroyed America.

Last night I dreamed I met Ronald Reagan, almost. I no longer remember where we were, perhaps the White House, but I ran into Nancy and helped her carry out all of the official documents from the Reagan presidency to her car. I was surprized that there were only five very small boxes that I could carry all at once. They resembled hat boxes in different colors. Nancy invited me to their house, and we took off in her SUV. The house wasn't sitting in the hills above Los Angeles, or if it was, it was sufficiently remote that there were large swaths of level ground around the house. I didn't get a good look at the house but I'm pretty sure it was a sprawling one storey ranch. Nancy took me into a room that looked like a reading room of a small public library to wait for Ron. There were a few glass cases of books, mainly for children, and nice furniture. I remember I became worried about spending the night, especially because I didn't know whether or not I had my leg sock with me. There were two children running around in the library and I tried to avoid them. They were rich and spoiled, obviously the grandchildren, and I began realizing that so much of the house had been set up specifically for them. Outside, against an argry storm, a specially planted field of wheat waved in the wind. In the middle of the field, huge inflated, or stuffed animals bounced up and down. They looked as if they were on strings and were the same color as the wheat in the field. They looked like giant chess pieces, and I realized that they had been put there for the children. I found my leg sock and noticed the big rip in it and I was filled with longing and with sadness. I forgot my plan to steal the damning documents I'd helped Nancy with and was just waiting for Reagan, waiting to tell him how luck had ruled my life and that hard work counted for so little. I could hear his voice in the house playing with the children. I felt my chance was at hand when I woke up.