Last night I had a dream. No, not a vision for a better future where all people are truly equal regardless of color or orientation or anything. Just the regular kin of dream you have at night when your subconscious is doing its daily housecleaning. I knew it was a dream because the day was sunny and warm. On this sunny and warm day Pearl Jam was playing a concert in a park somewhere. I have the first three Peal Jam albums, which I rate roughly as Love It (Ten), Like It (Vs) and Listen to Songs From It When They Come Up On My iPod’s 2200+ Song Playlist (Vitalogy). This is to say that I like Pearl Jam so my brain wasn’t actively trying to punish me by having them put on a show for me. I believe this may have been an acoustic show of some kind because I do not recall the wailing of electric guitars. Eddie was a bit soft and flabby. The crowd seemed very sparse, so maybe it was a secret rehearsal or something.
The weirder part is that I was onstage and it was clear that Eddie and I were a couple. I was also a musician of some sort or at least someone had handed me a mike. At one point I made a comment to the crowd as an aside, pointing out how I loved it when Bob Dylan did this certain song. Because Bob Dylan was also there (to the left of Eddie and me). The show was interrupted at one point when a softball came bouncing in near the stage. A couple of apologetic ball players came by and took it away. The concert continued, with Eddie being just a generally nice guy and kind of smitten with me. This was definitely not the lean, growling “Jeremy” era Vedder.
It was a pleasant little dream and I thank my subconscious for not hooking me up with someone dead like Kurt Cobain, which would have been all kinds of creepy.
