My most common dream subjects:
1) New York—Most weeks, it's once or twice, but sometimes I'll dream four nights a week about living in New York City. "What's the attraction?" I wake up wondering, "is it the allure of living the footloose American ideal in the Big Apple? Could it be the omnipresent magnetism of the city's creative energy?"
Swim to shallower waters, deep thinker. It's the pizza.
2) Airplane crashes (jets, to be more precise)—This one's creepy. I'm sure it contains gallons of twisted Freudian significance, especially since it occurs so frequently.
I'm standing outside in a large field ringed by forest. Someone stands beside me, but I never look at them and I couldn't tell you if they are male or female, they're simply a voice in my ear.
We watch as a large jetliner descends above us. Everything appears to be running smoothly, yet the plane seems louder than it should be.
"I think it's landing," the faceless, genderless voice says.
The thunder of the engines grows loud enough to shake the ground and pound in my ears. The aircraft begins swaying from side to side., its nose tilting further downward. "I'm not too sure about that!" I reply.
We yell something like "Oh, my God!" or "Holy shit!" and watch the monster plane disappear behind the tree line.
Silence. There's an explosion, but no noise, if that makes any sense whatsoever.
Thick black smoke billows upward, a few long flickers of flame stabbing above the forest. The sky darkens and that's where it always ends.
On a lighter note, it's the fall of nineteen-eighty-something, the weekend before classes begin. I'm returning to Theta Chi, my fraternity, after living at home for the summer, reuniting with guys I haven't seen for a few months and giddy with excitement about the year ahead.
My roommate Fritz and his brother Sam alternate between leading and supporting roles.
4) Playing in my final high school football game—I make sure to tell my wife immediately after I have one of these dreams. She seems annoyed when I wake her up to tell her, but I know deep down how much she loves to hear about how awesome I used to be.
5) I'm naked in public—The strange thing is, it never seems to bother me that much. For whatever reason, in that time and place, it makes sense for me to be freaking nude and everyone else fully clothed.
Just call me David.