No one's gonna stop...
I have no fear of falling, but I hate hitting the ground...

It won't begin until you make it end...

I had a very vivid dream last night. And, sadly, I actually remember it this morning.

It started out with me going to my old high school to interview for a head football coaching position that had just opened up. Only an interview. Well, that's what I thought anyway.

I show up at what is decidedly not my old high school and, instead of being taken to an interview, I am led by my new secretary to my new office, which looks eerily like my old bedroom at my parents' house complete with all my old furniture, and am asked to set up what I felt would have been the ideal starting lineup for every sports team the school has offered for the last decade. "Wow," I thought. "And here I was just coming in for an interview and I've already got the job and it seems to be a bit more involved than just head football coach."

My brother, who is apparently my assistant coach, is there to help me sort through all the rosters, which are set up like Weight Watchers Points sliders -- a really cool idea that I should try to market, by the way -- only to discover that they are not complete. Several sports are missing in random years and there are oddball sliders thrown in such as one that determines nap periods throughout the day for specific athletes.

My brother and I sit on the bed and begin to compile a list of the missing roster/sliders when my old buddy, B, comes walking in. He's drunk and is treating my office as I viewed it upon entry, as my old bedroom. There is no realization on his part that he just came walking through a high school to get to it. Instead, he just plops down on the floor and regales me with tales of his drunken exploits with our mutual friend, J.

"You'll never guess how much our bar tab was," he says.

"You're probably right," I reply dismissively. "Why don't you just tell me."

"Let's just say it was a couple hundred dollars," he continues. "And it was all spent on just the two of us."

"Wow," I say offhandedly. "That's a lot of booze." And I continue making my list of missing rosters.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"C'mon," I say. "Let's take a walk."

My brother and I help B to his feet and we walk out. I'm trying to find a delicate way to tell him that I'm the new head football coach, a job he has always wanted and that we both realize I am way too underqualified to take.

We walk out the front door of the school to a dry dirt courtyard. On the other side of a low brick retaining wall is a line of people standing there obviously waiting to catch their first glimpse of the new coach. A few clap (thank you!) while some jeer and hiss and the rest stay silent.

"Wait a minute," B says as he turns to face me. "You're... us?"

"Um yeah," I reply.

All of a sudden all the old coaches, led by the former head coach -- a guy who, in real life mind you, has not been the coach of our school in several years -- come walking around the corner like an honor guard. My mind's eye starts panning down the line of coaches as they stand there facing me. Some are openly weeping. I'm not sure if this is because they are out of a job or because it's me taking over. The old head coach steps forward to hand me something. A passing of the guard, I suppose. I take the box of whatever from him and...

... I wake up.

Thank God. That could've been disastrous.

Totally Unrelated Aside (TUA): I know he's not my mayor, but I love Chicago Mayor Richard Daley. I know he's had his issues like any elected politician, but here is a man who knows how to handle the press. In a press conference (not sure if registration is required to view this article or not) regarding police misconduct charges and a push by the public to have the names of multi-charge offenders released, Daley replied to a question with, "We have a very good police department. You cannot say there are a few bad apples and write them off just like the media does.

"You [the media] have a few bad apples as well."

Considering the Amy Jacobson scandal just a couple weeks ago, his timing on that quip could not have been any better.

That man is my hero.


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You may just have to google some dream analysis or dream symbolism because that's a pretty random dream you have going for you there!


that's a pretty good come back by that mayor.


Quite a few of my dreams take place in my high school. I don't know why--I couldn't wait to get out of that hee!


Bre, and very detailed for as random as it was.

sizzle, he's good like that!

metalmom, but it wasn't even my high school. That's the weird thing. More like a place you'd see in the midst of dry nothing in west central Texas or the like.


You have the strangest dreams.


I always have the most vivid dreams. If I could only make a movie of them, I would be famous...sounds a lot like you are the same way!

I have a vague feeling that I possibly went on a date with one of Mayor Daley's sons when I was way younger. I will have to ask my mom for sure, but I think it actually happened. My life before kids is such a blur!


Dagny, I never denied that one.

tori, maybe I'm misremembering, but I think you started telling me about Daley's kid one time. Definitely look into that story.


First of all- Who said being our high school head football coach would be my dream job? Maybe Notre Dame or Michigan, etc. Second of all, I have yet to, and more likely never will run up a multi-hundred dollar bar tab with said J. Not that I haven't run one up before with other people, only a handfull of times at that. I do confirm you would be underqualified for the position.
I do agree in the scheduled naps however.
How does your brother get into this anyway? He played for like one year, and please don't tell me he would be your lead assistant! I could help you put together an all WV team if need be. Have you gone to the old fieldhouse to walk through the old pictures or something?


B, it was your dream job in the dream. Nothing else. Yes, highly underqualified. How my brother got into it, I have no idea. I don't make up the rules in my dreams. My brother played three years. And I haven't been back to Waubonsie's fieldhouse since '95. Thankfully. ;-)

Jen Weigand

Hey Kev-

B is a little sensitive about the hs issue and about the J issue he seems to have gotten a little worked up about this!



Even though it was just a dream I had? Weird. Tell him not to worry. I'd never compare to his football prowess. Nor would I want to. ;-) As I told him, it was a dream and the content of it is far beyond my control.

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