Um, excuse me, I also have a dream …

From my brother:

How about this for a dream… work for the man, maybe in software, and save your rear end off.  No grand vacations until you retire.  Only trips to the river with your Parrothead friends.  Then, after the kids are out of the roost, buy a slightly used Winnebago but then learn that your savings won’t last long.  So you settle in Laughlin, living out of the Winnebago at a KOA ground, and get a part-time job at Lamps Plus.  But then, one day, who comes in?  Jimmy-fucking-Buffet, looking for a neon Margarita light.  He’s been your hero for years but now that you’re down on your luck, all you care about is making commission from the sale.  You make the sale, your idol walks out the door, but you don’t care.  You feel numb on the inside and never listen to a Jimmy Buffet song for the short remainder of rest of your life.  Now that’s what I call a dream!