The best dreams happen after you've woken up for a brief while, then head back to the still. This morning was an example. My brother and I were standing on a city sidewalk outside a nightclub that was adjacent to a Chineese restaurant (it must have been New York City because I once had egg rolls in a chinese restaurant there when it was subzero outside). We were watching our vapored breath in the crisp air and reveling in the aftermath of the show our new rock and roll band, The Magic Lions, just played. We were energized, drinking cold beer in the cold night. I was singing 'The Spider and the Fly' to myself: ...Thinkin', sinkin', drinkin'. A man in a sharp looking coat came out of the club and acknowledged us with a silent nod. We nodded back. There were a few more visible breaths, a couple more beer sips. Then he asked, "You guys know the story of Rocky?" We looked at him. He continued, "You know, the movie Rocky." He started to hum Bill Conti's "Dah dah da da da da da da da da da..." I looked at the guy like he was crazy, my brother said, "Of course we know it: down and out boxer falls in love with a pet store girl, fights the champ, goes the distance, becomes a local hero." The man smirked and nodded, "True, true." He paused a moment, "But that's the plot, not the story." My brother and I finished our beers and were about to go back inside when the man produced two more bottles and handed them to us. He went on, "Rocky's a movie about opportunity." We agreed. The man kept talking, "The big star, Apollo Creed, had a huge show planned, the fight to end all fights, a spectacle like nothing before. But at the last minute, his opponent had to cancel. The show was doomed, or so it seemed. Turns out, they were able to make an even better bigger and billing than the one they had had. Apollo finds somebody no one knows about yet and gives him a chance at the championship. He even said, 'This is the land of opportunity, isn't it?'" The man seemed to be warming up to the chill in the air. We popped open the beers and looked at him as if to say, politely, what's your point? Then he made it, "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm the national tour manager for Aerosmith. They're headed out on the road, it's going to be a huge show, but the problem is the hot new band that they signed as the opening act just cancelled earlier today." He handed us each a business card. "That was a great set in there tonight, give me a call tomorrow, early." He started walking away into the night, then turned and beamed, "Congratulations, tonight, you guys are Rocky Balboa. The tour starts in three days."

Then I woke up. It was a great dream.