I have a recurring dream that I'm walking in a crowd in downtown Detroit, right by the skyscraper my grandfather and father had their company's office in. And I'll get really excited because I'll see my grandfather, who died in 1980, walking down the street.
But oddly enough he won't in one of his usual beautifully tailored suits. Instead, he'll be wearing rumpled powder blue pajamas, needing a shave. And he'll look a little...unwell.
Then I'll remember that he died, but we'll be glad to see each other. Usually I'll wake up kinda freaked out.
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Another recurring dream is finding myself serving in a Scottish regiment of the British Army in World War I, marching toward the front lines at night, the cannons and howitzers lighting up the night sky in the distance, sounding like thunder, as our regiment's bagpipes do whatever it is that bagpipes do.
I'm never frightened, the Master Sergeant is kind of a comedian, and I wake up laughing.
I should. mention that sewn into our underpants are bean bag cushions that make sitting on the ground quite comfortable.
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Sometimes I have a nightmare that I'm poor.
Then I wake up and find it wasn't a dream.