Best Dream Ever

The other night I had the most amazing dream.

The dream was not so much plot-based, as my dreams usually are. It felt more like a series of personal memories.

And in these memories I was Paul McCartney's best friend. Honest to goodness! Just his best friend and confidant. Nothing more, nothing less. It was delightful, truly.

The first memory I had in my dream was of riding in a car with the Beatles on their way to a show. I was sitting next to Paul and George, both of whom held onto one of my hands for moral support before getting out of the car to face a crowd of screaming fans. I assured them they'd be great and had nothing worry about, that I'd be eagerly waiting for them after their show.

The next memory was similar - only we were riding on a train. And it was nighttime. Everyone was going to sleep but Paul and I stayed up chatting, as friends do. But eventually I helped him fall asleep.

Another memory was riding in a plane. I was playing cards with Paul before their first time visit to America.  Everyone was so excited!

I suppose I stopped touring with the group, because the later memories consisted of writing letters back and forth for a lifetime. I remember reading bits about the Beatles' trip to India, receiving and invitation to Paul's wedding, the announcement of his daughter, and a letter about the irony of the song "When I'm Sixty Four," on Paul's 64th birthday.

The last memory in my dream was Paul and I reconnecting as old folks. But we were so happy to see each other.

The best part about the dream, beyond these memories, was the neat feeling of being SO proud of my friends. Only my friends were THE BEATLES. No big deal. But it was not a crazy-fan-obsessive dream at ALL. It was just a calm, pleased, I'm-so-proud-of-you-and-so-glad-to-have-been-there dream.

I woke up from this dream SO happy.

And I have since concluded that we are kindred spirits and were most definitely besties in the pre-earth life. No WONDER I like the Beatles so much.