Published: November 13, 2009 10:07 am      

‘Dreams of a tired old man’

My body and mind have aged quickly as I survived major cancer surgery at age 62; broke both wrists at the same time playing basketball at age 70; barely overcame heart failure after a Cincinnati Reds game I attended with Roy Kidd, Paul Jones, and Jerry Brooks; two months later had to drive myself to Baptist Medical Center while experiencing a trial fibrillation; a month later having a pacemaker-defibrillator implanted, all at age 71; getting fired as economic development director at age 73; and saw my 401K plunge from the highest mountain to the lowest pits at age 75.

After all that happened, I began having all kinds of weird dreams. 

One night I dreamed I was an old Redhound football player trying to tackle the runner from Middlesboro before he crossed the goal line. I tried to lunge and stop him, but could not move. In my last-second, all out effort I tried to trip him. I kicked my foot out and Phyllis woke me with a scream, “You just kicked me. What in the world are you doing?”

 I told her I was trying my best to stop the running back before he scored a touchdown. The next evening she wore our grandson’s football helmet and soccer shin pads to bed.

That night I dreamed I was in the ring with Rocky Balboa. As the PA announcer introduced us to the crowd and the referee gave us instructions, I kept wondering, “How in the world did I get in here and how can I get out?”

To my surprise, Rocky was as old as me and I began to jab and keep him off balance. As he staggered, I threw a roundhouse right to the jaw and hit the head board on the bed with a booming noise. The bed shook and Phyllis bolted up and shouted, “Are you still playing football?” I said, “no, can’t you see I’m fighting Rocky Balboa and just gave him a hard right?!”

The next night, Phyllis led me to a small cot in the basement and told me “kick and hit all you want, but don’t break anything or you’ll be sleeping in the doghouse with your dogs, Thelma and Louise.”

Last night I had the weirdest dream of all.

I was listening to a CNN news report about “Entertainment Highlights in Eastern Kentucky.”

I dreamt I was watching TV announcer Wolf Blitzer, who said, “We are going to take a glimpse at what is happening in some of the smaller communities around the nation.

“The good news tonight is in Corbin, Kentucky. Some type of entertainment may at sometime or another in the future be coming to the Corbin Convention Center.

“The new convention center is located at a site with no entrance sign somewhere off Exit 25 near I-75, but our camera crew has been unable to find it. They did, however, find the famous Root Beer Stand and had a wonderful lunch. Sunday morning, our own CNN reporter Nancy Candiotti will present a two-hour live special from the Root Beer Stand starting at 2 p.m.”

Wolf Blitzer continued, “Nancy will also delve into this rumor about entertainment coming to the new convention center, which was first reported on the Jay Leno show and later mentioned by David Letterman. Neither of these sources could disclose what type of show it would be, or the time or date of the show, or anything about the prices and availability of tickets. They were not sure if the show will be held this year or next year, or even this decade. Anonymous sources have reported it will be this century.

“The convention center is named in honor of the jovial, kind-hearted and beloved bipartisan political leader, State Senate President David Williams. His spokesman, Mortimer Snerd, said, ‘Maybe, I hope, I hope, a show may be coming at some unknown time in the future. Yep! Yep! Yep! I guess whenever it comes and whatever the show may be, it will be really, really big. The prices will be reasonable, whatever they may be. This will be a great time for all the people. Someday, at the convention center, we’ll be together. Someday, someday, we’ll be together at the convention center wherever it is located. (I hope we will, I hope we will, maybe).’”

And then I woke up at mid-floor at the convention center and had no idea how I got there. As I looked up, I could see Phyllis, Dr. Briscoe, Senator Williams, and the City Commissioners in white coats with a big net running toward me.

Bob “the Dreamer” Terrell Sr., Corbin