Last night I dreamt about Anderson Cooper. It was a sweet dream; we just walked around a park near my house, Pioneer Park, laughing and talking as old friends are known to do. I’m not certain why he showed up in my dreams, perhaps I’ve missed him…my cable has been out for most of the past week and I haven’t watched his 360 show. I’m certain there is some deeper meaning to it all and I’m equally certain I won’t figure it out…such is life. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I mulled over my dream, if he had dreamed the same thing last night. What if he woke this morning, wondering why he was dreaming about a blonde woman he’s never met and wandering around a park he’s never visited? I’ve had many dreams where I’m with someone who I haven’t the faintest clue as to who they are.
I’ve read his book, “Dispatches From the Edge” and was pleasently surprised at how much it touched me. I liked how he wove the deaths of his brother and father with his career as a journalist. Normally that sort of thing confuses me to no end, but I was able to keep it all together and found it all the more poignant. The end of the book finds him in Mexico at a large cemetary for the Day of the Dead celebration. He thinks about his brother and father and what’s left of his family. No matter how many times I read that part, I keep thinking about his brother Carter and how he so liked F. Scott Fitzgerald…and this is where my brain goes on a tangent…I grew up in Rockville, Maryland home of the F. Scott Fitzgerald mansion. It’s a beautiful home and the grounds are breathtaking. I believe the house is used to exhibit art and can be rented for social functions. But, come the snow season the grounds become a playground for young and old alike, especially the sled riding. But, sleds aren’t the only things ridden down the steep hills; people put skis on the legs of couches, fly down on blow up rafts…you name it and I bet someone has ridden it into the creek at the base of the hill at the Fitzgerald mansion. Its strange to watch, here you stand outside of a gorgeous mansion, surrounded by regal woods and screaming people laughing there heads off as they dare the hills and slopes on insane made up snow sleds. I sometimes wish that I could tell Anderson Cooper about that place and hope that his brother’s soul found peace there. Just maybe, he realized that things aren’t always what they seem and that things and people can be more than one thing…you can be regal and elegant, rich and powerful and still hang on for dear life on the edge of a Lazy Boy recliner with a man named Lenny who’s sharing his reindeer jerky with you as you fly towards a frozen creek bed and think to yourself…sometimes things are just right.
Maybe Mr. Cooper will find his way into my dreams again and I’ll tell him my theory and my hopes and perchance we’ll even go sled riding…who knows, anything is possible in dreams.