I had a series of interesting political dreams last night. They were chiefly about writing articles and speeches for various Democratic officeholders.
I don’t know if you know this about my writing career, as I’m not sure I ever mentioned it in this particular blog (I did in my blog at YellowBalloonPublications.com, for sure). But during the first Obama-Biden presidential campaign, I was invited by someone on their staff to apply to become a speechwriter for it.
The problem with accepting the position was that I had a commitment to paying off this property that my sister and I co-own. At the time, I had eight goats and various others critters to care for. The position was in Chicago or Washington D.C. (my choice). I responded, saying that although I would love to apply, I could only do so if I could work virtually from home. (Which I had been doing with clients across the globe since 2008). That wasn’t an option, so I had to decline (sadly).
Well, last night, in one of the dreams I remember well enough to convey here, I was in a semi-large crowd standing near a barrier where a number of well-known Democratic officeholders were waiting in line for some kind of event. I was listening to them chat, and then heard someone over my shoulder say, “We have a great writer right here! Kris Smith!”
I turned to see who had said that, but one of the Democratic women asked, “Where?!” Then she came over to me and asked, “Would you be willing to write some speeches for me, and some explainer videos?” I recognized her right away, and said, “Certainly!” She asked, “Why didn’t I know about you already?!” I said, “I don’t know. Joe and Jill know me; I guess I just assumed that everyone who knows them knows about me!” We both laughed.
She wanted me, as my first task, to write something about one of the Founders documents, calling it out by name. I asked her if it was the one that started a certain way. She said, “No, it’s the one that starts out …” I nodded and said, “Got’cha!” She said, “I want you to mention it, quote it a little in passing, and then write a speech about how vital it is to honor and abide by its tenets these days.” I said, “OK!”
DISCLAIMER
I do not know Joe or Jill Biden personally. I met VP Biden briefly once in Tacoma (shook his hand and exchanged a brief conversation with him, one sentence each in both directions, which I cherish — I’ll recouunt it below), and I have had several wonderful dreams about him. I adore him as a human being (and now as our president) but I am NOT on a first name basis with him. He wouldn’t know me from Adam if he were to spot me in a crowd. So that was a crazy part of the dream, in retrospect!
Me (that’s my jaw and hand!) shaking VP Biden’s hand in 2012 or thereabout
The handshake
VP Joe Biden and WA Senator Patty Murray visited Tacoma on a campaign tour and I was there to greet them. I was volunteering on their campaigns and wearing my Obama-Biden shirt.
Photo taken at the same event that day
As they came my way (notice the stern looks on the faces of their Secret Service detail in the background!), I reached across the rope barrier and quickly said, “Thank you so much for everything you’re doing!” He grinned and responded,”Thank you for doing what you do! Without you doing what you’re doing, we can’t do anything at all!”
Back to Last Night’s Dream
At some point in the dream, I found myself wandering around the grounds at the White House. Joe Biden came over to say hello, which didn’t surprise me in the least, and then asked if I’d let him know if anything around the grounds needed attention. (This part of the dream may have been in response to a meme I saw yesterday on Facebook where The Former Guy had called The White House “a dump”, quickly counterpunched by something President Obama had said about visiting Lincoln’s study frequently at night to sit and contemplate his good fortune at becoming one of Abe’s successors.)
Next, I found myself standing on a marble column above a rickety-looking structure that seemed the slightest breeze could knock over. I was astounded to see it on White House grounds, and wondered how I could get down from where I was without using the rickety structure on the way down. I knew if I got off balance in any way after stepping down onto it, the structure would fall, and so would I. I was in a very precarious position: high up, with the only way down a dangerous deathtrap.
SYMBOLISM
The way I interpreted the dream this morning is this: the solid white column I found myself standing on (the present solid and friendly Biden-Harris administration) is the only thing substantial enough to sustain us. Lying just outside and below it is Trumplandia — an ancient, rickety structure that is barely holding together; the slightest significant breeze will topple it. Stepping down onto it will imperil us all.
