American Dream

In my dream last night, I was canoeing with Meryl Streep, in Hawaii. A huge foot bridge had been built up and over the bay we were in, as it was a keen spot for whale watching. Hundreds of people were on the bridge, with cameras and binoculars and helicopter tours crisscrossed the sky, just waiting for the whales.
In all the hubbub a voice cried out from the bridge saying “Oh! My God! Look! It’s Meryl Streep!”
Then the camera flashes began strobing in our direction and the helicopters began flying really low.
Meryl turned to me in the back of the canoe, her hair golden and diaphanous, like Botticelli’s Venus and said “Paradise lost!”
Then the water began to churn and roil. A gray Whale lifted it’s head out of the water not ten feet from our tiny boat, and in no time there were hundreds of these leviathans: gray, blue and sperm whales, even orcas and belugas all frantically lifting their heads: rolling gigantic eyes and pectoral fins just feet and inches from us. And that’s when I realised it: that’s when I realised that THEY were desperate. Desperate to get a glimpse of, or a wave or a smile from, such a big celebrity!
Paradise lost. It’s the American dream. Paradise lost… it’s an uniquely American dream. Paradise lost…

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