Rockstar

                The dreams always begin the same, I ‘am really thirsty and only one little slice of nirvana will do. I open the freezer door and perched on its side, located in the ice bucket that feeds the ice machine is the object of my desire. The white can with the gold top just waiting for me to pop its little red tab. I grasp it lovingly in my hand and notice the can begin to sweat.  As I gaze upon the lovely gold writing on the side of the can, I prepare for the sweet smell of a freshly opened can. I grasp the tab with my pointer finger and slowly pull until I hear the sweet release of pressure,(the signal that refreshment is near). I give the top of the can a quick sniff and hear myself going "aahhh that’s the stuff." The moment has arrived and I get a sense of myself hovering over my body as I see the can being lifted to my mouth and our lips touch. Then in an instant I’m back in my body and the sweet taste of slushy Rockstar is cascading down my throat, as the bubbles tickle, and my body relaxes and enjoys the ride.

                This is obviously the writing of a man with an unhealthy and slightly weird love of Rockstar. The Rockstar drink, not the crazy self absorbed singer types.  I’m sorry to say that some of what was written is a little true, not the dream part but the sniffing the can after opening it is. And the part about putting it in the freezer, I’m sorry but a slushy Rockstar is awesome! It’s also not really an out of body experience but it is something I look forward to. My wife Karyn will try and say I’m addicted or I couldn’t stop blah, blah. But I must confess I beginning to wonder if she’s on to something.