Tuesday, August 12, 2008

My dream

No, I'm not going to wax philosophical, poetic, or political as I'm so used to doing on my blog. I had a dream last night and I wanted to share it with you. I just thought it was amusing, and, given the fact that many experts believe that the dreamer is every character in his dream, I'm throwing it open to you guys to interpret the dream for me.

The setting is an office, a wide open bullpen area with no cubicle partitions. Just a sea of desks with chairs. At the same time, the whole space happens to look a lot like the Arcadia Mall, but I can't see any stores. I am walking past a long row of desks with Dizzle, my co-worker, who inexplicably does not say one word during this entire dream. We are walking at a brisk pace, when we come upon Indymac's former CEO, Mike Perry, sitting at one of the desks. We clearly know it is Mike Perry, only instead of the familiar snappy and starchy blue shirt with white collar and cuffs, cufflinks, and other very expensive attire, this Mike Perry is in a short-sleeved, collared shirt with a muted plaid pattern (very much like his golfing buddy, John Maher). Oh, and did I mention that he looks like this guy?

That's Steve Mittleman, a comedian/actor I used to know back in the '90s. This is after he got his nose fixed to look less Jewish (as if that's possible, and why do it if so much of his work is for Jewish organizations?). Don't ask me what had me associating Mike Perry with Steve Mittleman, since it was a dream and my id has absolutely no sense of balance.

So Dizzle and I come upon Mike Perry/Steve Mittleman, sitting at his desk in the middle of this office bullpen/shopping mall, and we say hello to him. He flashes a big smile, sort of sheepish, realizing that he's been spotted by a couple of ex-Indymac guys at his new, much more humble job. From CEO of one of the largest failed lending institutions in the country to a desk job selling... wait for it... equipment leases. As we continue on our way, Mike/Steve is greeting a customer with a warm handshake.

Rattled by this new Mike Perry, Dizzle and I make a quick escape from this scene through a side door which exits into a parking structure. I shake my head and say to Dizzle, "Man, how low can you go?"

End of dream. I very rarely remember these things, but this one stuck with me. Any opinions? Should I not have had that extra bowl of chili last night? Should I be getting out more? What if Mike Perry had looked like this?

As you can see, it's quite vexing for me to be dreaming of a shape-shifting Mike Perry who has not risen to the level of his incompetence (not to mention a completely silent Dizzle).

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