I had a dream the other night I was buying potato soup on a New York City street corner. Okay, okay, it doesn't have the same impact of Martin Luther King Jr. or even the prophecy delivered long ago to my Dad in a dream forewarning of "three bangs and a wall of water." We determined it meant either Cherry Creek Dam was going to burst or the toilet was going to break. I'm still collecting plungers. What does my dream mean? You tell me. Here's what I recall, I originally asked the burly street vendor, who was behind a counter so huge I felt like a midget, for chicken noodle soup. But he misheard me, and said "Chicken Nugget? We don't have it." I then asked for potato soup but he cast me a werid glance – I think it's because the menu actually said potato salad. He then asked me what year I graduated – I think this is because for some reason, I was wearing my high school letterman's jacket. Odd, because I never had one. You can't letter in newspaper production. Maybe it was my wife's. What happened next? The baby started screaming and I woke up. The weirdest part? I was apparently buying the soup so I could pour it on New York City streets so I wouldn't slip and fall. Counterintuitive? You bet!
I can usually piece together pieces of my actual life to substantiate my dreams. In this instance. My sister is traveling to New York this week to see a Broadway play - thus the NYC connection. My mother recently met up with an old friend who is now a custodian working at the high school where I graduated from. Thus the graduation question and possibly the secret identity of the soup vendor. Why did I need to pour it on the street – maybe you can help. Isn't it crazy how our minds work? Any crazy dreams you can recall?
