Blowing It in the Subconscious

oldtown
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Last night I dreamt I was hanging with my regular New York friends at our frequent hangout, Old Town Bar. As we were getting ready to leave, we realized that Mr. and Mrs. George W. Bush were sitting at the far end of our table, right in front of where we'd put all our crap.

I was voted to be the one to go face them. I went over, incredibly intimidated by this prospect, remained humble, never making eye contact, and I gathered our immense amount of crap. Coats, hats, mittens, socks (socks?)... It was as if we'd left our unfolded laundry on the back table at Old Town.

Finally, as I gathered everything into a manageable pile that I could pick up, I turned to my sworn enemy... and I shook his hand and fucking thanked him.

The context of his existence in this dream was the same as in life. He'd screwed up relief efforts along the Gulf coast, he'd started an illegal war in Iraq, he'd alienated our allies, he'd given every big business CEO a proverbial blowjob... everything. I had more to say to this man than anyone in history.

But when I finally had my moment of unfettered access -- not a secret service man in sight -- I somehow felt empathy. So I thanked him for leading our country. And I thanked Laura for giving him to us for eight years.

I have never gotten out of bed with a larger sense of self-loathing.