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[solidfoamsoul]

Last night (or this morning rather) I dreamt that I was with Richard Hunt during his last few days. It was really weird because we were at this cabin by a lake that my grandpa decided we would spend the forth of July/New Years at. (Yes, forth of July/New Years. I said it was weird.) There was a very small party in the living room and everyone sang that New Years song mixed with "You're a grand ole flag", signaling the new year 2001. Just as the Uncle Sam hat was dropping on TV I walked into the bedroom right next to the living room where Richard was. He had one of those oxygen tubes on but no other visible medical equipment. The bed he was laying in was a four poster one too. He sees me come in and smiles just a little. "It's 2001," I say, but what I really mean is 'You've made it to 2001.' He knows this and suddenly looks very sad, not because he knows what I'm thinking, but because he's thinking it too. I walk to his bed and kneel beside it, taking his hand in mine. His muscle definition is quite good for an AIDS patient.

"You know what I'm going to miss?" Richard says looking at the ceiling for a moment. He pauses and sighs, quite serious, "Cookie dough."

He gets a little teary and so do I. "Well, I'm sure wherever you're going, whether it's heaven or back on Earth, there will be cookie dough."

He smiles faintly and my cat started banging on the porch door, waking me up.

Richard Hunt was a Muppeteer extraordinaire, performing Janice, Scooter, Beaker, Statler, Sweetums, Gladys the cow, Forgetful Jones, Don Music, Placido Flamingo, just to name a few. He died in early 1992.



And nothing to do with anything really:

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

25% Yankee

5% Dixie

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Current mood: sad