Over the past two years (roughly) I have had two dreams featuring Osama Bin Laden. Curiously though, the Osama Bin Ladens of my dreams are two very different people. But, strangely, both are connected to my childhood. Let me explain...
20 months ago.
I have a dream. I am a kid in the back of our blue Astro mini-van in Canby, Oregon at Simnitt Nursery in the gravel parking lot. Next to me is Osama Bin Laden. Like any other childhood friend. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Really. My friend Osama. Nice, likable, funny, smart, and very human.
While in the mini-van, we received some vaguely bad news. My buddy Osama had gotten into some big trouble. But we had no idea what it was. Before we knew it, Canby police cars role into the driveway as if its another routine traffic violation.
I panic, "shit, shit, shit. What do we do? Osama, quick, get down on the ground!"
So he sat with arms around knees on floor of mini-van while I covered him with newspapers before the police got to the window! As if they wouldn't see him under the daily headlines (we are talking Canby cops here).
Then I wake up.
A week and a half ago (approximately a year and a half later)...
I'm at a small empty baseball field standing between metal bleachers and a closed down concession stand.
I'm startled by a loud metal clang as a rock hits the dust nearby.
"Oh, shit! Another rock!" I look up and on top of a nearby hill I see my "old buddy" Osama throwing rocks at me. The hill is now so close its pretty much on third base. Osama, smiling maliciously, thinks this is somehow fun for both of us.
Well, bleachers don't provide all that much protection so I head for the back of the concession stand. "Clang, clank, boom, clank." More rocks. Big ones too. Some friend. What an ass, but I don't know what to do.
I wake up. Oh shit, another Osama dream. Weird.