Dreams are like women: if you seek them out you’re pretty much doomed. They’ll only come at you when you’re 100% positive you don’t need them at all and you’ll never see another one again, and when they do come to you, they make you realize how incomplete you’d been prior.
So I keep having these dreams that tell me to move back to my hometown, which sucks, since I hate my hometown. Anyway, my last one involved sitting in the back of an eight-person van and having various women climb in and sit by or near me, some skiing in Southern Michigan, and most importantly, some bro-delly high-fives (who’s above those for Chrissake) and a new friend I made who just happened to look exactly like Emilio Estevez. Ok, he actually had the face of Emilio Estevez, in the dream.
Now, I was 10 in 1993 when The Mighty Ducks came out so I was a little too young to form an opinion on Estevez one way or another. What did I like? God… Home Alone, for sure, Home Alone II… uh… the Home Alone director’s cuts, Richie Rich, you get the bidness. The Good Son.
Estevez I didn’t really have much opinion on but recently I did see that SNL introductory bit where he was on there with Pearl Jam. He’s standing next to Eddie Vedder hyping the episode three days in advance and he asks Vedder, “When I see my friends, can I tell them I know you?” to which Vedder succinctly replies, “No.”
Obviously, this is more sense of humor than is particularly ascribed to the squares-ville Breakfast Club and Mighty Ducks worlds… k anyway I’m getting to my dream (hey it’s blog and I’ll cry if I want to)… so I was going into an account of how I got fired for no reason from being an English TA at ISU, all the while also getting ripped off of $1200 by the university for no particular reason, having to work 20-30 hours cooking on the side to afford my apartment and living in a place at which in 0% of the instances did I receive the mail I ordered online (I’m talkin’ essentially things like rock biographies and black Carolina Panthers Cam Newton jerseys), and I got a high-five from this dude whose face I didn’t see. He was one seat ahead of me in the eight-person van. I made friends with Estevez. Somehow we ended up going out that night and dancing to Prince’s “Delirious,” and I realized that this was about as good as life can get, dancing to some great music and having a friend, the type of thing that makes you want to “hold still”like Grizzly Bear said or “hold your breath until the end” like Finch said, and I mean I wasn’t dancing UP ON HIM or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.