Dream

It was only a dream, but when I woke up the first word that came to mind was, “Whoa.” I got up, shook my head a bit, then wandered into the kitchen to fix the coffee. But the dream’s remnants kept rattling around in my still waking up mind, sufficiently distracting that I completely missed the first couple of stories on the morning news.

Near as I can tell the dream was prompted by a conversation that took place the day before. We’d been talking about the small number of Democratic debates to counter the blizzard of GOP sideshows. Our shared lament was for the missed opportunity to display sound reasoning as clear contrast to yowling weirdness.

Anyway, the script went something like this: We were attending a local event, a panel discussion that bore a resemblance to those hosted by the League of Women Voters. It was rather informal, with panelists Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders, and Martin O’Malley seated comfortably in stuffed easy chairs, chatting as though they were in someone’s living room. At the end, they thanked everyone for coming and said they were on their way to the next town for the next panel. And that’s when I woke up.

The part that stuck with me was the absence of the mutual acrimony that characterizes the present Republican field, that’s partly what made it seem so real. While I was still waking up I caught myself wondering how such an event could be brought about. Two days later and wide awake I’m still wondering.