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Dream A Little Dream...of SCTV
I haven't been sleeping well lately - okay, not for years - but I still dream a lot. Last night was a particularly long and weird one:
Volvo had decided to do a series of reality-type commercials; they were going to put six very different people in one of their new cars and drive them around for a while, filming them. The footage would then be selectively edited. I was one of the six people who had been invited, and for some inexplicable reason I had agreed.
(I've never owned a Volvo, by the way, and I don't think anyone else in my family has, either.)
The driver of the car was the commercial spokesman, very typical of the breed; a microphone and plaid sports jacket, slightly desperate, with great teeth, voice, and hair. Of the other passengers, I only remember two. One was a woman who was going to be married soon. I could tell because she was wearing her wedding dress, a classic white number complete with veil. The bride was tall and very beautiful, with black hair and very fair skin; she reminded me of someone, but I can't remember who. She was also very snotty and spoiled, which makes me suspect that she was based on a memory of someone from my old home town of Westport, CT.
The other passenger was Dave Thomas of SCTV! He was young, about the age he was back when they shot the show. I was dying to talk to him, but he was in the back seat and I was in the middle one, stuck next to that insane bride. We didn't get along, she and I. I couldn't believe that she'd been stupid enough to wear that outfit on a long trip, and soon enough I was proved right. Her dress got stained and torn, and at one point her shoes and lower dress were completely soaked in mud. I didn't have much pity for her, though, because she was a real bitch.
In the meantime the car itself seemed to be suffering an inexorable process of destruction. The spokesman wasn't a very good driver: he kept bumping things, scraping the side of the car against cement barriers and walls. It didn't seem that this was likely to be a successful commercial.
As we were driving in a small city, I was suddenly surprised to see a familiar figure. Standing in the middle of a side road was a man in a white suit and hat. It was Joe Flaherty as SCTV station owner and president Guy Caballero! I was dying to talk to him, but the car wouldn't stop. Moments later I saw Joe/Guy again, this time seated in his customary wheelchair (for respect!). Still the car rolled on.
But eventually the car stopped, and somehow Dave and I were walking in an odd part of an unfamiliar city. He seemed to know where we were, which was good because I was pretty hungry. A lot of the stores and restaurants along the street were either out of business or new and not yet open for business. But Dave led the way to an odd store. I thought it wasn't yet open, but we went in and they were serving...what?
It was bowls of some stuff that looked like large rock-candy crystals in a clear gel of some kind. Service was cafeteria-style, and as we moved along the line we came to a station where the counterman used some sort of blender to stir up the crystal-gel combination into something that looked like white cotton candy combined with snow. It looked delicious.
Dave kept his bowl away from the blender - he said he had always wanted to try it plain. I had mine mixed, though. We found a table and we were just going to have a good chat about SCTV when...
You guessed it. I woke up.
Funny thing, I've dreamed about SCTV (and Monty Python) more than a few times over the years. It's usually pretty cool.
I seem to be having a bit of a nostalgia attack. I blame Tarzan Boy. It's one of those 1980s songs for which I remembered the tune, but not the words, title, or artist. Someone mentioned the title at a game recently, though, and as soon as he hummed the chorus I knew the song - and wrote it down. Man, some of those 80s one-hit wonder songs were the best!
Volvo had decided to do a series of reality-type commercials; they were going to put six very different people in one of their new cars and drive them around for a while, filming them. The footage would then be selectively edited. I was one of the six people who had been invited, and for some inexplicable reason I had agreed.
(I've never owned a Volvo, by the way, and I don't think anyone else in my family has, either.)
The driver of the car was the commercial spokesman, very typical of the breed; a microphone and plaid sports jacket, slightly desperate, with great teeth, voice, and hair. Of the other passengers, I only remember two. One was a woman who was going to be married soon. I could tell because she was wearing her wedding dress, a classic white number complete with veil. The bride was tall and very beautiful, with black hair and very fair skin; she reminded me of someone, but I can't remember who. She was also very snotty and spoiled, which makes me suspect that she was based on a memory of someone from my old home town of Westport, CT.
The other passenger was Dave Thomas of SCTV! He was young, about the age he was back when they shot the show. I was dying to talk to him, but he was in the back seat and I was in the middle one, stuck next to that insane bride. We didn't get along, she and I. I couldn't believe that she'd been stupid enough to wear that outfit on a long trip, and soon enough I was proved right. Her dress got stained and torn, and at one point her shoes and lower dress were completely soaked in mud. I didn't have much pity for her, though, because she was a real bitch.
In the meantime the car itself seemed to be suffering an inexorable process of destruction. The spokesman wasn't a very good driver: he kept bumping things, scraping the side of the car against cement barriers and walls. It didn't seem that this was likely to be a successful commercial.
As we were driving in a small city, I was suddenly surprised to see a familiar figure. Standing in the middle of a side road was a man in a white suit and hat. It was Joe Flaherty as SCTV station owner and president Guy Caballero! I was dying to talk to him, but the car wouldn't stop. Moments later I saw Joe/Guy again, this time seated in his customary wheelchair (for respect!). Still the car rolled on.
But eventually the car stopped, and somehow Dave and I were walking in an odd part of an unfamiliar city. He seemed to know where we were, which was good because I was pretty hungry. A lot of the stores and restaurants along the street were either out of business or new and not yet open for business. But Dave led the way to an odd store. I thought it wasn't yet open, but we went in and they were serving...what?
It was bowls of some stuff that looked like large rock-candy crystals in a clear gel of some kind. Service was cafeteria-style, and as we moved along the line we came to a station where the counterman used some sort of blender to stir up the crystal-gel combination into something that looked like white cotton candy combined with snow. It looked delicious.
Dave kept his bowl away from the blender - he said he had always wanted to try it plain. I had mine mixed, though. We found a table and we were just going to have a good chat about SCTV when...
You guessed it. I woke up.
Funny thing, I've dreamed about SCTV (and Monty Python) more than a few times over the years. It's usually pretty cool.
I seem to be having a bit of a nostalgia attack. I blame Tarzan Boy. It's one of those 1980s songs for which I remembered the tune, but not the words, title, or artist. Someone mentioned the title at a game recently, though, and as soon as he hummed the chorus I knew the song - and wrote it down. Man, some of those 80s one-hit wonder songs were the best!