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Monday, July 7, 2014

Dreaming of Samuel L. Jackson

The other night I dreamt that:

I was in the chapel with a group of children and volunteer leaders.  We were singing songs and having fun when the door opened and in walked Samuel L. Jackson. He was carrying a stack of books.

“I wanted to return these to you,” he said as he handed them to me.  “Thanks for letting me borrow them.” 

“No problem,” I said.  “I hope they were helpful to you.”

He shook my hand and waved at the kids before heading back out the door.

As soon as the door was closed the kids shrieked and screamed and giggled.  “Was that Samuel L. Jackson?  Do you really know him?”  The room was filled with their shouts and excited questions.

Just then Samuel L. Jackson poked his head back in the door and waved to me.  “Can I talk to you alone for a minute, Jeff?” 

I followed him out to his SUV, and got into the passenger seat.

“Jeff” he said to me.  “I’m really disappointed that you’d use our friendship like that.  I thought I could trust you not to do that.”

I interrupted him.  “I’m sorry, Samuel.  But I wouldn’t do that. I haven’t done that.  In fact, until today I hadn’t told anyone at all that we’re friends.”

He sighed and I could see him relax.  “I know. I know.  I just get paranoid sometimes.  You know how it is.”

About that time a voice came from the back seat. “This is all very touching but I’d really like to get to the hospital, please.”

I turned around to see a blood spattered man sitting in the back seat.  His right hand had been hacked off and he was clenching a bloody rag to it.

I turned back to Samuel L. Jackson.  He shrugged and said, “yeah… I’m kinda’ in the middle of something here.”

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Muted Hosannas Muted Hosannas
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