The Stuff Weird Kite Dreams Are Made Of

Once again, I had a completely unique dream last night, of which I can make neither heads nor tails. Enjoy.

I dreamt that my brother and I were attending a competition— a kite-flying competition. He was a contestant, I was just a bystander. These were no simple Mary Poppins-style kites, either. For one thing, they were huge. For another, they didn’t look like any kites I’ve ever laid eyes on. And lastly, the things were swooping around only ten feet or so off the ground.

The one I remember most vividly was a box-kite made to look like a biplane, complete with propeller. It just looked neat, and the person flying it was pulling off maneuvers the Red Baron would be proud of. There was a real jackass in the crowd, though. Every time I tried to point out something cool to my brother Andy, this guy would just look at me and loudly say ‘stop talking.’ According to him, I was being a distraction to the kite-flyer, who was obviously in his own little world at the time. The jackass appeared to be in charge, too.

When Andy’s time came to fly a kite, guess who was talking: the jackass! Good guess. I walked up to him and said in the same obnoxious tone, “You need to stop talking.” The look of indignation on his face was priceless, but it shut him up.

Later on, at the awarding of prizes, his voice came over the loud-speakers and announced that I had earned the ‘Pfister’ award, meaning that I was the most obnoxious, distracting, unwelcome person at the meet. Furthermore, I was banned from attending any future competitions, even as a spectator. I was rather ticked off at this, until a small round of applause went up. Someone earned themselves a Pfister every year, usually by standing up to the jerk. I was asked to sign an autograph or two, which was kind of neat. Then I woke up.