I had a dream that some of my old Navy buddies of 50 years ago, our son Jon and I went to a basketballgame in San Francisco. Odd because it was an NBA game and there is no longer a team in that city, but
the Warriors will be moving back in the near future.
When the game ended we left in smaller groups, Jon and I were separated, he had gone on with some
Of the others. Somewhere along the line when a friend gave me my hat, that had the crown torn out, I
reached in my pocket and found that I had Jons phone as well as my own.
My first thought was to call Jon but I was afraid the number I had was an old one. I could call Darlene, Jons wife, and asked her to call Jon, but I abandoned that idea for some reason. Well then, I'd call home and my wife could call Darlene, or maybe even call Jon.
By that time I needed a pencil, I went into a place that might have been a YMCA, empty rooms a real mess. I found a room that had a table with screwdrivers and pencils, just as I reached the table the pencils rolled on to the floor. I got a pencil and tried to call home, but I had Jons phone, don't ask me
where my own was at that point. His phone was large, thick and encased in one of those hard plastic shells that you don't like to open. There were some buttons on the outside but I couldn't figure out which one to use. Then I woke up; I had been watched the NBA Summer League games in between working on the "project"; paint needs to dry.
Too funny to be true.