The Wide Angle: I’m weird. How does that explain my dreams?
I’m a little apprehensive to write to you this week because of the very real concern that you might think I’m weird.
I know that probably all of you 45 readers may already suspect I’m a little strange, but I’m not sure you were willing to go so far as to point and scream, “Man! He’s weird.”
Or maybe you have. If so, bravo for your observational skills.
Either way, I thought that having amassed such a large volume of readers that nearly reaches 50, I owe you nothing less than the unbridled truth — I am incredibly weird. Not the kind of weird that would have people utilize an imaginary person trying to get their attention from across the room to avoid continued conversation. Still, more than a little bit strange.
To go along with this trend of off-the-wallness (yes, it’s a made up word. Don’t get a headache thinking about it) is a subconscious fueled by an imagination in overdrive leaving to just some really strange dreams.
This week in particular was one of the stranger weeks.
Dream 1: Alien invasion where I was transported to an alien vessel and turned into some kind of cyborg thing.
Dream 2: I was rehired at the Huron Plainsman in South Dakota by an editor I had never met just for him to tell me he lured me to South Dakota with a job offer just to rescind the offer so I would be jobless, completing some weird agenda I didn’t know I had been the focus of.
Now, what do these dreams tell us — I mean aside from the fact that I’m weird? Well, the first one can be signed away by the fact that I’ve been binge watching “Stargate: SG1” on Netflix.
This show has always been one of my favorite science fiction shows starring MacGyver — oh, sorry, Richard Dean Anderson from “MacGyver.” Another show that was high on my list of favorites.
It even beats out “Magnum P.I.”
So there we go. Aliens. Lots and lots of aliens combined with a science fiction book I’m reading with hostile aliens.
Now for the second. This one is a tad confusing as I’ve not been looking to go back to Huron -— or anywhere for that matter. Sure, I enjoyed the town and all, but not enough to move back, especially because I don’t know the guy who lured me there.
I knew their current editor. Super nice, non-weird guy.
A while back I was talking to someone about how big Huron’s coverage area was at that time and the ridiculous time I needed to travel to get to some of the small towns, but I’m not sure that was enough to dream up some nefarious plan to get me there.
Wait, maybe that’s it. Maybe all of this is so I can use the word “nefarious.”
I’ve done dumber for less.
So there you have it, a short insight into what makes me tick whether you wanted it or not. I swear though, I’m still worth coming up and talking to.
Besides, I know that imaginary person is not there. You can’t fool me.