I Have A Dream

I have a dream...

Now, it's nowhere near as lofty or inspiring as the most famous uttering of that phrase... Not even close, just to be clear.

And it's not a dream I would have uttered a year ago, even if it was deep within my unspoken hopes, desires, or dim aspirations.

But it's a dream. 'Lemmie 'splain...

My favorite blogger of all time, all dimensions, all alternate universes, world with out end, alleluia, amen, is P-Dub. The Pioneer Woman. Ree Drummond. She whose encrusted boots I am not worthy to clean off. She writes with the quirky kind of humor I wish I had, is an amazing photographer, actually knows how to use Photoshop to produce beautiful results, is a fabulous cook (she beat Bobby Flay in a throwdown, for corn's sake), and has a Bassett hound named Charlie who is my hero.

That last shows that I have many, many issues.

If you've never experienced the joy and mayhem that is the Pioneer Woman, surf off this very instant and find her. And if you never return, it's ok - I totally understand. Godspeed and much laughter, my friend.

Oh, the dream? Sorry - got lost in the awesomeness.

P-Dub lives on a ranch. And on this ranch is a place called The Lodge, which is a place for gathering and guests and is amazing.

So here's my dream: I get an email from her people, since getting an email from her herself would pretty much render me into a babbling pile of goo.

Which isn't that much of a change, I'll grant you. But even more so. Yeah, that bad.

Anyway, her peeps say, "Cal, we happened to hear this obscure little song from an obscure little album called 'Angelica's Waltz,' and we were surprised and shocked to find that we actually liked it, and were thinking that this sort of thing would be perfect background for a gathering we have coming up at The Lodge."

At this point, I'd be expecting the next words to be, "so we were wondering if we could play your CD at the event. Oh, and could you send us a few dozen copies to give as party favors." After all, if you turn them over, they make a great mirror. Or they work well for target practice, so who would't like a practical gift like that?

My response would be, "uhbabblegarblegookumbeeblewokawokawoka... Sure. Great. Would you like fries with that?"

But no. In my dream, the next words are, "so we were wondering if you'd be available to come to The Lodge and play at this event."

See the aforementioned reference to "goo" for my reaction.

And even if the next words were, "of course, you'll need to provide your own transportation to Oklahoma for you and your stuff, cover all your meals and other needs while you're here, and pay us a hefty fee for the privilege of playing at The Lodge. But we will graciously provide accommodation for you - a pup tent in the back with actual pups for your edification," my response would be, "ebblebeebleglorkgulpwokawokathud... Uh huh, sure, yes."

I want to play at The Lodge. Not be a guest, not take advantage of the hospitality, not intrude in any way - just to use my feeble offerings of music to enhance a gathering for someone who has enriched my life by her writing.

Now, P-Dub has no knowledge that I even exist, much less that I play whistles and thingies. I'm not on her radar in any shape or form. I don't drift in her circles, exist in her world, or anything like that. It's not that she's snooty or inaccessible - she'd laugh at the thought of it. Just that our worlds don't connect.

So what's the point? One year and 175 pounds ago, such a dream would have filled me with depression and hopelessness, something that would have caused longing and self-loathing, reminding me just how impossible the thought was and how very sick and lost I was.

But now? I could see this happening. No, I'm not having delusions of grandeur, or becoming a creepy blogger stalker. In my new life and my new body, I could imagine that if an opportunity like this came up, I'd have the strength, the confidence, and most of all the grateful heart to accept it, do it, and give God the glory for it.

And that, dear friends, is a dream with a happy ending - not the unlikely chance of playing at the Lodge, but where I realize just how far we have come and how much grace has been given, and how truly thankful I am.

I have a dream, and it's a good one...