It amuses me when I have dreams with celebrities in them because they never really take the direction I’d expect, nor do I spend a lot of my waking hours thinking about celebrities. Sometimes famous people get all tangled up with people from my real life and characters from my novels and from The Young and the Restless. Those dreams leave me tired.
Here are some famous people dreams I can remember offhand.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I dreamed I was on the waitstaff of a restaurant owned and managed by Barbara Walters. It was a horribly laid out restaurant, with the kitchen a vast distance from the diners. I wonder if I think Barbara Walters is out of touch. Nah, I generally admire Barbara Walters.
Once I dreamed that Ringo Starr picked me up in a limo. (Well, he was in the limo. He had a driver.) We rode all around an unnamed city while he told me stories about his life. At the end of our drive, Barbara Bach (his wife) was waiting on the sidewalk. After I said goodbye to Ringo, I left the limo. Barbara shook my hand, smiled at me, got in the car with him, and they drove away. I don’t remember a single one of his stories, but the dream me was enthralled.
A long time ago, I dreamed that I spent an amorous night with Mick Jagger in a house trailer. I think I remember this one because it bewilders me. I’ve never been particularly attracted to Mick Jagger. And also–Trailer Park Mick doesn’t compute. And finally, the dream was from his Jerry Hall years, and she could totally kick my ass.
In the late 1980s, I dreamed that Bret Michaels had been my brother in a previous life (maybe early 1800s). We were separated by some cruel mischance, but he had given me a ring belonging to our mother so that he’d recognize me if we ever met again. I remembered every detail of that ring when I awoke. Two years and another state later, I worked with a woman who was given a ring identical to my dream ring for her birthday. Crazy, huh?
Also crazy, but not about a famous person: I once dreamed I was with my friend Steve R (it was around 1990, and Steve was still alive) in a movie theater. The movie made us cry, so we ran out of the theater, which was in a hotel, and took the elevator to our room to hide under the covers. There was more to the dream, but here’s the crazy part. Four years later, I stayed in an upscale hotel in Delaware, and my room was exactly like the hotel room in my dream. And there’s a theater in that hotel (though it’s for live performances, not films).
I had a dream that Queen Latifah was my girlfriend. Just because I’m straight doesn’t mean I don’t have good taste in women. I have called her “my Queen” ever since. Women who are lesbians tell me I can’t have her. Bitches.
And of course, already documented on my blog several years ago, I dreamed Laura Bush was Tim’s mother. She was actually pretty cool; also, they smoked the same brand of cigarette. I wonder if she quit smoking, too?
ETA: Probably because I wrote this just before I went to bed Wednesday night, I dreamed that I was ironing shirts for Chris Noth, Steven Weber, and some deeply closeted country singer whose name I don’t remember and who may or may not be a real person. I do not appreciate using dream time to iron.
ETA Redux: Going back through my “Dreams” tag, I see that I’ve had dream appearances from other famous people including that unnamed/possibly fictional male country singer. Also: K.T. Oslin; Rene Zellweger; Al Gore; Bill Cosby; Michael Stipe; Brad Pitt.