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Writer's pictureThe Dreamweaver

Sting* | The Dreamweaver


I was playing baseball for the Chicago Cubs—picked up mid-season as a replacement player for one of their Triple-A teams—and during a game a few irregularities such as playing with a soft, square ball (meant to be a child's toy), caught my ire and I sat down on the field in protest and the game was abruptly ended by the officials.


Once the field was cleared, I remained sitting in an inside corridor waiting to see who would approach me and what the outcome would be.


A man who I did not know walked by and handed me a large white envelope containing some official looking documents.


Meanwhile, I began noticing a number of musicians walking through the corridor and imagined there must be a music event in progress, or about to take place.


Suddenly, a woman I recognized from the hotel office came by and angrily snatched the white envelope from my hands.


Just then, Sting came and sat beside me and asked what I had done to get the woman so angry and I told him what had happened during the baseball game.


Then I asked Sting (in jest) if he had heard his daughter Eliot's new album (I referred to her by her family nickname of "Coco.").


He looked at me, surprised that I would have known about her music, smiled and said, "funny name, Coco, isn't it?"


I went on to tell him I had just started up a band again after 30 years and he wished me luck before saying he was tired and wanted to go to his room and get some sleep.


He asked me if I was going to stay around to see Andy Summers and his Police cover band, "Call The Police," play.


I said I would try and when I asked him who was playing drums and bass, he looked at me, smiled again and said, "I have no idea!"


I figured I would go up to my room as well and shower and get ready to leave, but when I got to my room (15G), I saw the light on through a crack in the door and heard the shower running.


I then realized a day had passed and I had already been checked out of the room.


I later found myself at a hair salon and apparently they had been waiting for me and quickly instructed me to take a seat.


I told them I needed to go to the toilet first so I went into the WC where I pulled my spare pair of Dickies denim shorts out of my duffle bag and changed into them.


I then sat down on the toilet seat and began to cry, saying to myself that I would never be as famous as Sting.


Just then, someone knocked on the door. It was Sting and he said, "No, you can never be as famous as me, but you'll be famous in ways that I could never have imagined being famous myself."


Then I woke up.



*Originally manifested on August 14, 2019.

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