I had another disturbing dream late last night, which may have been caused in part by the sausage pie I consumed an hour before bedtime, but I digress. In the dream, I was transported to a foreign land where the inhabitants spoke a mysterious language I had not heard of, but sounded eerily like “Dark Side of the Moon” played backwards. In the dream, I was gripped by an unbearable thirst but could not find the words to ask for a simple glass of water. I gesticulated wildly, miming what I hoped was a motion that indicated a terrible dryness, but the natives of this unfamiliar land only laughed and pointed as I became more animated. This led to me losing even more precious hydration, as my fruitless machinations caused me to sweat profusely. Just as I was about to break through the language barrier, I woke up with my heart pounding, drenched in sweat and screaming in a foreign tongue.
I tried to explain the dream to my wife but she muttered something about an early morning Boot Camp class and fell back to sleep. I got up to find my daughter studying for her SAT exams in the den and told her about the dream. She’s been studying dream theory in school and helped me recall an unfortunate incident I had with a German tourist who I thought was asking for directions to the La Brea Tar pits, either that or he was asking me to recommend a good rib joint, but was actually in need of a doctor. It was touch and go for a while, but it all turned out okay in the end. I remember thinking he should have brushed up on his English before making a trip to the states. Looking back, I realize I may have been a bit smug, and intolerant. My daughter surmised that my dream was my subconscious mind’s way of shaming me into being more understanding and appreciating others for their differences. Not the sort of lesson one wants to learn from one’s daughter, but I am embarrassed to admit, she was right.
The lesson couldn’t have come at a better time since I just learned that my favorite nephew is getting married in Costa Rica and I don’t speak a lick of Spanish (yet). I can only hope the Ticos are more understanding than the backwards-Pink Floyd speaking natives in my nightmare. But just in case, I’m printing up t-shirts that read, “Me gustaria de agua.” on one side and “¿Dónde está el baño?” on the other. I’m not taking any chances. While you may not need to convey such a literal message, t-shirts are a classic way to promote your brand. I like the Authentic Pigment Men’s Direct-Dyed Heather Ringer Tee from Rush Imprint…a reliable favorite, this t-shirt is made of a 50% cotton and 50% polyester blend and the heathered finish gives this soft t-shirt a casual look. I haven’t met a person yet who doesn’t appreciate a free shirt, which makes them a timeless choice for any kind of promotion.
Well, I’m off to meet with my new Spanish tutor; I hope she likes t-shirts. Remember, “patience is a virtue but if you want a glass of water, you’d better learn the language.”