Last night I went to a funeral in my dream. It was a private funeral for a Union Carbide executive in my hometown, back in Arkansas. I didn’t know the man, but my family did. He was new money (everyone in town is, no shame in that, but he’d had an elevator installed in his new McMansion, so he came with extra cheese). The funeral was being held in the auditorium of his company. It seemed he’d been pretty important in my town, cause it was full up in there. I only went because I was home visiting, and my deceased grandmother had invited me to go with her. Funerals are usually a good place to catch up with those still living (at home) and those who have invited you to join them via dreamscape.

As we took our seats I noticed all these kooky performers in bizarro costumes were milling around the place. Really cool, artsy ones that I knew from Berlin and NYC. What the hell were they doing there? We nodded hello and smiled at each other, then before I knew it, the show began.

A 3-dimensional, target of circles slowly protruded stage left and several performers dressed as Peter Pan started flying out of it on wires. You can fly, you can fly, you can fly, belted out over the speakers. I looked around at all the well dressed people paying intense attention. Who doesn’t love theatrics?

Following this, the crowd rose and we walked back through the warehouse. The next performance was on some stacked blocks. There, the actors peeked and dodged around the blocks in total nonsense. The only sound was the uncomfortable silence one experiences in performances when one knows they’re supposed to be grasping some great artistic concept that isn’t being conveyed, but everyone pretends it is, and nods knowingly like they’re getting it.

Desperate to find out why all these actors were here, I slowly backed away and wandered down a backstage corridor. I found myself in another large warehouse room where the actors were prepping costumes, tumbling, stretching and doing make-up, preparing for the next performance.

This seemed like a good place to wait, so I plopped down on a bench to people watch. Next thing I know, Madonna walks up and sits down next to me. She looks undeniably stunning in her Louis the 14^th robins egg-blue coat with dark-flocked overlays. I was like “holy fuck- what is happening?” As I went along with the I’m cool, I’m-Madonnas-new-friend vibe that I had suddenly procured, I fought every urge I had to pull out my phone and take a selfie. Then, Kylie Minogue sat down beside Madonna, leaned over to smile and wave at me. This was too much! I couldn’t take it anymore and told both of them, that no one would ever believe that this was happening so I had to take a photo of us. They gladly obliged leaned over for my phone, then I couldn’t get the focus to fucking work, so I snapped a blur. The only thing I’d exposed was my uncool factor.

The moment was over so Madonna glided off the bench and slowly walked away. Her appearance in the funeral video was complete. As I watched her walk away, I realized the entire thing had been filmed and I hadn’t needed to take a fucking selfie. What an idiot. I wasn’t any different than any other adoring fan. I was so-not-cool.

Really was a good funeral. What a shame the host didn’t get to see it. Then I realized he knew. He had been planning something cool all along and didn’t need proof, or need to see it. He was the definition of cool.

Still no idea what his name was.

Glad I went.

*POST-DREAM INTERNET RESEARCH*

Often dreams about funerals symbolize accepting that something is gone and is no longer a part of your life. They represent letting go of something. These dreams could describe the process of ending something, as well as the realization that something has ended