This morning I dreamt of a strange old man who travelled around in a motorhome. But that’s not all. He made enough money to survive by dressing up like Thomas Jefferson and doing guest appearances, lectures and lessons at schools and museums and historic locations around the country. He talked about the Revolutionary War and about traditional American values upon which this country was really founded.

At some point, I realized he would probably let me travel with him if I asked. So I asked him how far west he was going. I asked him what his “ultimate destination” was, but he shooed me away from using that phrase, because he thought it invoked death. Like I was asking him what would be his resting place, or whether he was going to heaven. Something like that. Anyway, I rephrased it somehow when I realized that he had no ultimate destination. He was just a traveler, and that was what was important. Then we somehow got to talking, and I told him who I was.

He said something like, “Oh yes, I’ve heard of him, Tim Router.” He spoke about me in the third person.

“No, Tim Boucher,” I said, but he insisted that he was talking about the same person, and that he had heard of me. Then he went into some kind of thing about how he’d hoped I hadn’t left the United States for Canada yet, because the “cause” (his cause - ie, the American Revolution) needed people like me in order to go forward.

I don’t particularly remember what happened after that. I think I woke up. Anyway, the interesting thing is that this continues some of the elements from my dream yesterday, with the futuristic NYC and the aliens. In that dream, I was supposed to be going up to Canada to rendezvous with some kind of rebel force. I never got there though, and this dream indicates that I shouldn’t go there, that I should stay and fight for the “cause.” But there was also this dual message about travelling and realizing that there is no destination, there is no resting place, and you’ve got to keep going, keeping doing what you believe in.