Last night I had a dream that I had been cast as Patti Scialfa in a bio-pic about Bruce Springsteen! I bear no resemblance to Patti Scialfa in real life, but in my dream I looked almost exactly like her – red hair and everything. Bruce Springsteen played himself in the movie, so I was to play opposite the boss, and I was thrilled. The first scene I remember from the dream was a scene that was supposed to depict Bruce's and Patti's first meeting. The meeting took place during a festival at a Danish beach, and for some reason Patti was in disguise (perhaps it was a "Brilliant Disguise"?), wearing a long, smooth, blond wig, so Bruce didn't know who she was, but fell in love with her regardless. I don't remember much from the scene, other than thinking that I looked downright bizar in that wig.
The next scene I remember in more detail: It was the scene in which Bruce's first wife was supposed to find out about Bruce and Patti having an affair. In the scene, Bruce and I were supposed to be seated in one of the rows at a Bruce Springsteen concert – which doesn't make much sense, I know, but it seemed perfectly reasonable to me while I was dreaming it. Patti and Bruce were holding hands, but Bruce's first wife noticed, because she was seated right next to them, and that's how she found out. I found it an awe-inspiring experience to be holding hands with The Boss, but apart from that I was very skeptical of the scene. I didn't think it seemed like a very realistic way for Bruce's wife to find out about the affair.
Before I could voice this concern, however, the concert hall was invaded by Russian communists. They captured everyone there, including me, Bruce and Bruce's first wife, and intended to take us away to a gulag. At this point I wasn't really able to discern between fiction and reality, and I think I'd pretty much become Patti Scialfa by now. In this state, I remember thinking vaguely how very awkard it was going to be to be at the same gulag as Bruce's ex-wife, thus obviously displaying a disturbingly bad sense of proportions.
The Russian communists lined us up outside the concert hall in what looked like a typical Danish autumn countryside landscape. A muddy road stretched out before us, pastures of green grass and trees with fading leaves on both sides of it. I was a little distraught at the prospect of going to a gulag, but I figured things couldn't get too bad as long as I had The Boss right next to me. I felt confident that he'd find a way for us to escape. was wearing wellingtons and noticed that my feet were getting cold inside the clammy rubber material, and I fretted somewhat about the fact that I hadn't had the presence of mind to put on my winter boots instead. It's bound to get cold at that gulag, I figured. I did take some comfort in the fact that all the other prisoners lined up beside me had put on wellingtons as well. Then I woke up.
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