I don’t have the first clue what Michael Dell and his wife might look like. That notwithstanding, they were in my dreams last night. Michael gave me a check for $10,000 to buy some plastic materials I needed to promote a cause (I don’t remember what) that I had just adopted, thinking it was important. Moving trucks and outlaw rock musicians were involved in the dream in some way. A little later, he gave me another check for $10,000, this one payable to me personally, to enable me to start a 501(c)(3) organization to support the cause. I thanked him profusely, but my wife and I exchanged worried glances; taking the money meant I would have to “unretire” and work on setting up a charitable organization, which neither of us wanted. Then, I went looking for Michael in a beer joint that looked a little like the Flying Saucer, except it had stairs leading down to a huge, dark, smoky room. Then I woke up.
I should have written this down the moment I woke up. I would have captured information about the “cause” that has escaped me. I recall that the cause made no sense to me when I awoke, though, so the entire dream was nonsensical.