The World In Between

Last night I dreamt that I was working for an extremely rich man like Donald Trump who had a son about my age who was also working on the same project – a movie starring the Billionaire, perhaps about his life. I guess I didn’t read the script… But I knew that Bob Dylan was in the movie. I came into the project on the second day of filming. I was excited that I’d get to meet Bob Dylan. A woman, apparently a stage manager of some sort, was telling me about my responsibilities and what was going to happen today. Then Bob Dylan showed up and so did the Billionaire. I refrained from the normal fan behavior and didn’t even introduce myself to Bob (although I apparently was comfortable enough to refer to him by his first name). The movie involved the Billionaire driving around in a monster truck (though it was just blue – no flames or skulls or whatnot painted on the sides or hood). In the bed of the truck was a large spring with a seat on top that was maybe ten or twenty feet higher than the truck, so a cumulative height of perhaps thirty or forty feet. The son of the Billionaire, who was understandably a spoiled and pompous asshole, and I sat on the spring-mounted seat high in the air in the back of the truck while Bob and the Billionaire sat in the cab. We drove around town in what looked like Beverly Hills, palm trees and all. I remember the seat we were on swayed a lot as we drove. The Billionaire, normally uptight and stuffy, got a kick out of driving the monster truck. Bob seemed content and was apparently just along for the ride. We got chased by cops around town but the Billionaire refused to stop. Bob talked to me about not putting up with crap just because these people were rich. He said he wasn’t there because of money, that he was just curious about how the Billionaire lived and he wanted to write a song about it. When we got back to the Billionaire’s mansion and took a break from filming, the son of the Billionaire wanted me to go get something for him at the grocery store. I said no, that I wasn’t going to do it. Bob had inspired me not to take crap from this guy just because he was the son of a billionaire who happened to be my boss. So I quit. Bob was walking out of the mansion after filming was done just as I quit. Apparently he’d quit too. A throng of fans were standing outside of the mansion to swarm around Bob and ask for autographs. I knew it was my last chance to talk to him, so I walked up and thanked him for the good advice and told him I’d quit. His attention was divided considering how many people were shoving paper and pens in front of him, but he looked over at me and said, “you did good, kid.”