I was living in a run down appointment. My friend, Adam Simon, was living in the flat below mine. The dream featured a bald eagle. The bald eagle was eating my arm. Then the bird would fly threw Adams open window. So, with incredible strength, I grabbed the eagle. I then threw the bird into the oven. I did not want a bald eagle eating me. Thank God, I decided to forgo buying the turkey, and by synchronicity I had a bald eagle. The bald eagle was supported by the Benjamin Franklin branch of what to serve on Thanksgiving.
My family then appeared. They were there for thanksgiving.
Then I had a conversation with Simon Abrams:
Simon: That was my eagle.
Me: Dude, the bird was eating my arm.
Simon: But it was my eagle, my pet.
So this conversation was going to go nowhere... so of course I brought up Notre Dame Football because they were playing that day. And Simon was wearing a four leaf shamrock Notre Dame cap. I was confused because I thought Adam was Jewish. They were playing my Colorado Buffaloes. (Last time they played each other was 1991 in the Orange Bowl.
Adams dad was there for thanksgiving and I wanted to bring both Adam's dad and my dad together.
The dream ended with Notre Dame playing.
Simon's dad (the only Jew who loves Notre Dame) brought a bottle of fifty year old wine. He exclaimed that the upstart buffaloes had no chance against the gods of Notre dame. I could never support Colorado, because I only support vintage brands.
My dad accepted the gift from the opposing camp.
The Bald Eagle was ready for carving.
And then there was a wishing of Happy Hanukkah to all involved.
We were thankful for the wine, even though it was vintage.
