Sweet dreams are made of these
At age 10, I had a dream about my fifth grade class going on a field trip to the moon. I actually entered the gleaming rocket ship and settled into my launch chair, but I never made it. The nuns discovered I'd forgotten my lunch money, so I was kicked off the space ship and left behind. I'd never forgotten that dream, but the last place I expected to be reminded of it was at the premiere of "Tron" this week.
My 16 year old and I settled in for the trailers and I found myself watching this theatrical Kia Optima commercial: "Sweet Dreams" with a mixture of joy, wonderment and the feeling expressed best by Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly." It felt like some evil mf copywriter genius at Park Pictures reached inside my head, extracted the glowing filament that best distilled all my most cherished fantasies and unfulfilled dreams and splashed them on the screen with a tagline "No one ever dreamt of driving a midsized sedan… until now.” The boy driving his bed through his fantasies turned into a driving man who watches in awe as the rocket ship of his dreams lifts off into the cosmos. He's happy in his sleek midsized sedan, but to me, it seems like a poor consolation prize.
As a wee lad of 10, I looked ahead to the magic year 2000 with stars in my eyes. I'd watched Apollo 13 live and I had no doubt that by 2000, we'd have lunar colonies, cures for cancer, electric cars, indestructible clothing, wristwatch computers and all the Dick Tracy stuff that filled my luminous fancies.
The hardest thing to imagine about 2000 was ME at the advanced age of 43. What would I look like? What would I be doing? Would I have kids, a wife? Barring residence at a Lunar or Martian colony, where would I be living? "Would I be pretty, would I be rich ..." On these subjects, my shiny crystal ball was black and inscrutable. Tick off another decade and my crystal ball offers less clarity on the future than on the past.
In the past ten years, I've lost a father, two uncles, an aunt, a cousin and several friends. I've seen my business rise and fall on the vagaries of an economy that makes me feel as empowered as the proverbial canary in the coal mine. I've seen my nation at two futile wars and I've seen the parallel decline of the American fantasy of cultural supremacy that filled and fueled my childish dreams. I've also seen some amazing things that were equally impossible to predict. I saw a black man become president of the United States. I've witnessed networked computer technology blaze new avenues for interpersonal communication. I've seen my own mother on Facebook. I own that pocked computer I dreamed of at 10, though I need glasses to read and use it.
I've seen three decades of marriage to a wonderful woman come and go. I've also witnessed two young boys grow and hint at the men they are becoming. I hope they still have stars in their eyes. I hope that the intervening decades go easy on their dreams, so that when they hit middle age, they can still cherish their own shining filaments, as I still do. However improbable as it sometimes seems, great amazing incredible things are possible. I will see some of them happen and I will make them happen. There's a Paul Simon song that goes "These are the days of miracles and wonders ..." Though Kia has usurped my dream to sell mid-sized sedans and many events beyond my power have left me cynical and disappointed in myself and my fellow humans, I still believe this to be so.
The first decade of the 21st Century is over. On the other side of our spinning blue ball, the second millennial decade is already in progress, impervious to and unconcerned with this human conceit of meting out time in annuals and decimals. At some point, between New Years' parties tonight, I will step out, feet planted firmly on the sidewalk and I will look up into the cold winter sky. I will raise whatever libation I have in hand and drink a toast to the moon. My toast will consist of one word...
"Someday!"
Happy New Year my sweet family and friends.
May your every dream come true.
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