Absurdities in Dream, No. 1: Boogie Vans, Cadillac Man, and My Father, the Jumper.

In the fist of what, depending on the frequency and absurdity of my dreams, will be a continuing series of tales from my subconscious, I present to you Monday morning's dreams.

Of course, what I remember is a merely a tenth of the curiosities that played before me last night. At one point I was looking down on a freeway from a high and distant vantage. In one lane of travel a continuous line of "boogie" vans approached, each painted wildly and driven straight from a time portal to the 70's. The other lane of travel, however, was empty. Empty, save for one rebellious soul, driving a purple hopped up Cadillac. This thing was set up to drag and kicked all sorts of ass.

All I could think was I want to buy that car.. I debated on this, weighing the cost of the car, which apparently I could afford, against its general asskickery.

Never mind the problem of getting a hold of the owner, since he was driving away and I was up on a cliff or something. After coming very close to deciding I would buy it, I figured against it, as buying new drag racing tires for it would be too expensive.

Flash forward and I'm on the rooftop of a city building. My father has gotten himself some sort of costume with mechanical legs that allows him to jump from roof to roof. He's wearing a simple, stupid red costume that's a cross between a Mexican wrestler's and a Power Ranger's. He's very excited about this whole thing, and lands near me to tell me how awesome it is. I mention something about hurting himself, but he's convinced he's invincible, and goes bounding off. I can see him slipping, tripping, or in some other easy to imagine way, going over the edge of a tall building to his certain demise. All I can do is watch and worry.