Saturday, February 26, 2011
The three brothers from Bonanza crept into my dreams the other night, and Lorne Greene showed up while we were sitting around the campfire watching the glowing embers and exchanging glances. I don't know what the brothers were thinking, but I was concentrating on the fire and thinking we needed more wood (not that kind, I'm talking about wood for the fire). It was good that Lorne showed up when he did because Hoss had a glint in his eye that was very unsettling. Bonanza is a swell show, but I may have to stop watching it if these dreams continue.
The Bonanza dreams are more disturbing than the Golden Girl dreams that plague me on a regular basis, as I'm pretty sure I could outrun most any one of the Golden Girls. There is a possibility that Rue McClanahan could catch me, but if she did manage a surprising sprint, she'd likely be too winded to try anything untoward. Just to be on the safe side, I keep, at the very least, an arm's reach away from Bea Arthur. Without question, she likely possesses a grip like a gila monster, and once caught, it would be a frightening sentence of unwanted servitude, entailing more than just cleaning the pool.
The boys on Bonanza are an altogether different story. Those Cartwrights are fit as fiddles and I'm certain any one of them could catch me in a heartbeat. Even if I tried to escape on horseback, my feeling is they are skilled horsemen and would chase me down pronto, and worse, might try to lasso me. Then I'd be in real trouble. In future Bonanza dreams, I'm going to stick close to Lorne Greene's side. Rascals as those boys may be, they respect their father enough to stay out of trouble and keep their pants on while he's around.
There's also a recurring dream where the humorless Nancy Grace is at the front of a lynch mob. She has a noose in her hand and is getting the crowd all stirred up by telling them vicious lies about me. This particular dream takes place in a trailer park in the old west and no matter how fast I run among the trailers, she's right behind me hollering mean stuff and acting crazy and getting frothy. In desperation, I try shouting some cheerful knock-knock jokes over my shoulder, but she's all sweaty and worked up from the chase and refuses to listen and she's mad because she wants to take a call, but it's the old west and there are no telephones.
Hopefully, in future adventures, Thelma Lou and her sunny smile will materialize and usher in sweet dreams on the front porches of Mayberry. It would be a pleasant turn of events to be caught by Thelma Lou. I would even call her "Thel," and maybe ask if she'd like to go smoochin' up at Meyer's lake. We could be happy together once she learns that Barney got Juanita Beasley, the waitress at the Junction Cafe, pregnant. Thelma Lou is the girl for me, and after the Cartwright boys see us together, they'll find other ways to occupy their time and look elsewhere for a campfire buddy.
Posted by Dale Wickum at 10:24 PM