I had a dream last night (in the brief period I got off of here to sleep) that I really thought should probably go in my journal as opposed to in the dream thread. For the occasion, I'm going to "illustrate" said dream to give you a better understanding of what was going on.
As an added bonus, I was listening to this when I fell asleep:
Trey Anastasio & Tom Marshall - Trampled By Lambs and Pecked By the Dove
(Which probably explains the characters in the dream, but not the dream itself. Oh no. That is all to do with my crazed imagination.)
The stars of said dream were me:
Trey Anastasio:
And Tom Marshall (Trey's songwriting partner):
In my dream, I was at the Trey concert, and he had just performed a wonderful set with his band, as well as an acoustic set. It was setbreak, and I didn't really care about being close to the stage for the second set as much, so I was going to buy a delicious and refreshing beer.
I looked at the bar, and what to my wondering eyes should appear (not a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer...) but TOM MARSHALL!
He was at the bar going to buy himself a drink, but I took the opportunity to swoop in and offer to buy it for him. I mean, after all, this man had been Trey's friend since middle school, and the lyricist for many many many of Phish's songs.
He graciously accepted, I bought a brew for myself, and he and I went to sit down and chat a bit. We talked about music, movies, and all sorts of things, then Tom got really serious for a minute.
He said he wanted to show me something.
I was like, "Okay, yeah, that'd be cool! What is it?"
And he said that we'd have to go outside, 'cause that's where he'd kept it.
At this point, I motioned to the door, clearly marked: NO RE-ENTRY.
With a wave of his hand, Tom dismissed that. I gestured again to the door, and expressed my concern that I wouldn't see the second set if we left. He informed me that there WAS re-entry because he was Tom f
ucking Marshall.
I couldn't argue with that.
We went outside, and he led me through a gate around the side where he had a car he'd rented to drive around Columbus while Trey was in town, so he could see the show and not have to ride in the bus.
Tom popped the trunk, and pulled out a guitar. But WAIT.
This motherfuc
ker had a guitar made out of bones.
"Um," I managed, "Are those real bones?"
Tom laughed and smiled. "Yup."
"Whose...bones..."
At this point, Tom started monologuing something fierce. "You know, I think it's a great present. I think Trey's really going to dig it. I'm going to give it to him after the show, you know. As a present. Boy, Trey loves presents..."
I stammered out again, "Whose...."
"Consequently," Tom told me, "There's not going to be a summer Phish tour...or any other Phish tour, actually. But Trey has a bitchin' guitar now."
At this point Trey walked out of the building, smiling.
Then his smile quickly turned to a frown as a single tear trickled down his face.
FIN.
So. I dreamt Tom Marshall fashioned a bone guitar to give to Trey made out of the bones of the three other members of Phish.
I was very upset.