My Lambchop Dream

I think it's a good sign when I dream about the mundane tasks of my coming day. I figure if I have some level of stress or darkness in my life, I'll have nightmares. Or if there's some unresolved issue in my heart, I'll have rather obscure dreams with some odd symbolism I need to decode.

I say this because that's happened before. I hate the nightmares, which I get especially when I'm sick. And the obscure dreams have led to some really interesting and transformative thoughts, so I don't argue with it.

But if my sleep is filled with unusual, dreamlike tales of things I've got to do the next day, things must be going pretty well.

That's what happened Saturday to Sunday as I slept in Portland. In my dream, I did some mapquest searching for a CD store I wanted to go to on Burnside. In reality, I was looking for Music Millennium, and did find it the next day where I grabbed my dad a father's day album and some Duffy, Bo Diddley and Arvo Pärt for myself.

But in my dream I couldn't find the name or address, so I just got on a bicycle and started riding through town. I grabbed some braided bread with carmel drizzles on it, and I perused some shops.

Oddly enough, my bicycle had a radio. I was listening to a broadcast of a Lambchop concert held in some Portland-based establishment. They opened their set with a cover of Feist's "I'm Sorry" from The Reminder.

It was beautiful, and I woke up disappointed that it was only a dream song, because it really was incredibly beautiful. In my mind's ear, Kurt Waggoner's voice stopped and started abruptly the way he does, and the Lambchop-style guitar played the same notes, but with a thick-fingered stutter similar to that found on the Lambchop album Is A Woman.

Now the question is, how crazy does it sound if I write to Lambchop and say "I had a dream that your band covered Feist's "I'm Sorry," and it sounded REALLY good in my dream, so would you mind recording it for an album or a B-side to a single???"