Disturbing Dream

I deactivated my X/Twitter account (aka, Xitter), and the next night, I had a dream.

See, I have this nifty electric car that is not a Tesla but looks like one. My car and I were on a road trip. One of our regular overnight stops was a cave in a desert. I pulled into the cave, which I expected to be deserted, and was surprised to see a tractor parked inside. There was nothing remarkable about this tractor. It was an ordinary John Deere sort of small-ish tractor like those we often see on country roads in Arkansas during the farming season.

Curious, I walked around the tractor. Parked on the other side of it was a miniature Cybertruck. It was smaller than one of those little Datsun pickups from the 1970s but not as small as a Barbie Dream Car. Its windows had steel shades on the outside. It looked like a toy but functional. I took a picture but couldn’t get a signal to text it to [whomever]. I left the cave to get a signal to send the text.

Focused on my phone, I was startled when Diane Munzer Fisher tapped me on the shoulder. “Oh, hey,” I said. “You found me. There’s a tiny Cybertruck in the cave.” (I do not know why Diane would have been looking for me. We only ever see each other at college reunions and on social media.)

“Don’t steal it,” a male voice said. Diane and I turned to see a young man lying near the cave entrance, sacked out in a sleeping bag. We had not noticed him before, but he was only a couple of feet away. He reached out and grabbed my leg.

“Why would we steal a Cybertruck?” Diane asked, disdain dripping from her pores. No kidding, I thought, and shook my leg free.

The young man was blond, with a broad face. He looked like a blond Elon Musk. “It’s MY truck,” he said. “My dad gave it to me.”

Diane and I entered the cave. The young man followed us. We realized he was very young – in his middle teens at most. “My name is Wilder Musk,” he said.

The cave’s walls were now sheetrocked, and posters of Tesla and SpaceX employees papered the brightly lit interior.

“Wilder, huh?” Diane asked. She pointed to a poster featuring a woman. “As in, Elaine Wilder, the Chief of Technology and Development?”

“That’s my mom,” young Wilder said.

We realized that Elon had yet another child to add to the dozen or so the media knows about already. The man spreads his seed far and wide indeed.

I noticed a hair tickling my palate and put two fingers into my mouth to pull it out. It stuck on something in my throat. I started gagging and coughing.

“Let me help,” Diane said. After some wrestling and much more coughing and gagging, she pulled a gross, tangled wad of hair out. (Yuck.)

The apparent moral of the story [dream] is that Cybertrucks and the proliferation of Elon Musk cause hairballs.

Last Updated on November 19, 2024 by Anne Orsi