It was a parade of dreams last night, a dreamathon of impressive vitality and quantity. Two dreams stood out. Both involved a silver car. Silver as fine, polished flatware, with two black stripes down the middle, its front end, roof profile, and general shape and size were like the Ford GT Mark IV which was used to win LeMans with drivers like Dan Gurney and A.J. Foyt in the 1960s.
I first saw it in traffic. I don’t know who was traveling with me, but I was driving. Cars were nose to tail. Then came the silver Ford from the other direction. Mired in traffic as well, it cruised past, turning heads. While I’ve described it generally, it was then I spotted two unusual features: its rear wheels were completely enclosed, and it had a vertical fan mounted in its rear end. The fan was a large one, just as used in the Chapparal 2J a few years after the Mark IV, or in the Brabham BT46 Formula 1 car in 1978. (Both the Chapparal and Brabham were banned from racing after showing impressive potential.)
All of us are watching the silver Ford. I hear someone in another car behind me ask, “What is that?” Another person in a car behind me replies, “That’s a NASCAR stocker.”
I’m like, what? That ain’t no NASCAR stocker. I laughed at the suggestion.
We saw the car again later and someone repeated the NASCAR stocker identification. I said, “That’s not a NASCAR stocker. Anyone knowing anything about NASCAR would know that.”
“What is it then?” my companions asked me.
“I don’t know. It looks a lot like a Ford Mark IV, but I never heard of one modified on the back end like that.”
Later, we’re out of the cars, walking around. There is the silver Ford. As I walked over and ogled it, a young woman confirmed my name and then handed me the keys to the silver Ford.
I was perplexed. “Why?”
“You’ve been chosen.”
That answer did nothing to relieve confusion. “By who? And, yeah, why?” Then I tried giving the keys back. “Where would I drive a car like this?” I was shaking my head, but the woman walked away, leaving me with the car and keys.
Meanwhile, in another dream a while later…
My sister-in-law and her SO are with me and my wife walking along a parking lot. SIL sees the silver Ford and says, “Wow, what’s that?” Before I can reply, someone else says, “It’s a NASCAR stocker.”
As I prepare to explain, “No, it’s not a NASCAR stocker,” with the indignation deserved, my wife says, “That’s Michael’s car. It was a gift to him. Show them the keys.”
I held up the keys. “Yes, that’s my car.”