In a small town somewhere in New Mexico, I am walking down a narrow street when for some reason I am ushered into the back door of a small restaurant.
The restaurant is clearly a Mexican restaurant, because the pots on the stove were full of Posole and Menudo. I walk around, unsure of why I’m here, but I feel suddenly drawn to the woman at the counter.
She is an older Mexican woman wearing one of those smock style aprons with the embroidery and snap buttons. She is rolling out tortillas and telling me how busy the restaurant is. As she says this, the kitchen fills up with people. Some are grabbing bowls of soup, while others are taking the finished tortillas out of her hands. The lady can barely keep up with the demand.
Somehow, I have stumbled into the kitchen of the best tortilla maker in the area and am amazed by her technique. We start swapping tortilla knowledge, and before long she asks if I could help.
Flattered, I grab an apron, and just as I’m about to make tortillas with the most celebrated tortilla maker in the region, my sister busts into the kitchen to tell me that we have got to go now. Of course I explain that I am about to make tortilla history, and she can’t be bothered by that fact because her partner, my brother-in-law, is about to fill in for the local weather man and read the weather on live TV. This is a dilemma, because this has always been his dream. Everyone in the family knows that Jerry is a weather aficionado, his knowledge rivals even the most educated meteorologist.
In that moment I knew the right thing to do. I had to remove my apron and join my sister. Jerry’s dream was more important.
We left out the front door and hurried along yet another narrow street that suddenly resembled Tucson. We ran across traffic. We ran back into the Mexican restaurant and out the back door. Eventually we found my family gathered outside of the TV studio where Jerry was to give the weather report.
It was understood that it was our job to coach him through this. I was so proud he had finally made it to the big time. I said it on repeat. I also made sure to tell everyone about my great honor of making tortillas with a famous tortilla maker.
I also reminded them of how selfless I was being by giving up my dream so that we could help Jerry pursue his. He needed this. Everybody smiled.
It was about that time that I woke up.
For the last few weeks I have been taking magnesium for sleep, and the night before I accidentally took twice the dose. I had also eaten a dozen donut holes and had a huge burrito for dinner. I’m not sure that any of it played a part in this dream, because lately I’ve had several dreams that have been worth repeating. In fact, I have never dreamt so much, which means I’m sleeping, and that is as good as it gets.
Sleep tight.
