Howdy squirrels!
Just so you're aware, Neil Young does not actually think his readers are squirrels--he just refers to them as such. In fact, much about his blog reflects a bit of an obsession with squirrels--for example, the blog is described as shown here:
Also, the first few posts reflect both an interest in squirrels and a great deal of unfamiliarity with how an internet blog works:
Carry on.
Hope that last dream didn’t get you too hungry for some cotton candy – LOL!
The last dream was about Neil Young and Elvis Costello being kidnapped by circus performers and nearly killed by being shot out of cannons. Luckily, Neil remembered that he was a wizard in the nick of time and was able to use his magic to save them. I am not making any of this up.
Speakin’ of eating, I sure do love a great meal. Course, Pegi makes the best grub out of anyone. Love you Pegi!
Every now and then, I like to take a trek to a restaurant and grab a bite or two, usually when Peg’s outta town. Not too long ago the wife was out and about, so I called one of my best buds, Dave Grohl to see if he wanted to chow down.
I have no idea if this setup for the dream is true or not, but the idea that Neil Young and Dave Grohl are best buds makes me happy, so let's assume this is all factual so far. Oh, and guess where Neil and Dave like to eat when they go out:
Dave was more than happy to meet up, and it just so happened I was in his neck of the woods in SoCal. Dave then asked me where I wanted to meet up.
I suggested The Medieval Times in Buena Vista. You know, the spot where you get to dress up like a king and grub on turkey legs? Dave thought it sounded like a swell idea and we both headed over. What a great guy. Hey Dave!
Of course Dave Grohl and Neil Young go to Medieval Times to eat. FYI, this is not yet part of the dream; it's just a setup for the dream, which occurs when Neil passes out at Medieval Times. Seriously!
We got to Medieval Times and were seated right in front of the jousting arena. So cool! Before the excitement began, we ordered our dishes. Dave, always the health- conscious dude, got a green salad and a glass of red wine. Me, I pulled a regular Brian Wilson. 8 turkey legs and 5 goblets of non-alcoholic mead later, I was feeling pretty wild.
“You all right Neil?” Dave asked. I must’ve looked pretty pale.
“I’ll… be… fine…” Holy Toledo! I felt like Frosty The Snowman at a 4th O’ July shindig. Couldn’t spill the beans and let Dave know I wasn’t feeling well though. I didn’t want to ruin the evening!
“Neil, you look kind of sick. Come on, let me get you some antacid or something!”
I belched. “I’m fine… I just…” There must have been a truckload of tryptophan in those legs, squirrels, cause next I knew I was laid out on the floor and feeling pretty sleepy…
So, Neil Young is passed out on the floor at a restaurant / joust, and now will tell us about the dream he had there. Proponents of the theory that there are an infinite number of parallel universes in which every possible eventuality is true in at least one universe could cite this as proof that we live in one of the more outlandish and unlikely ones. Anyway, here's the part where we learn about Neil Young's dreams after he's had five goblets of allegedly non-alcoholic mead:
I slowly opened my eyes. I looked around and saw a bustling village setting. This was no Buena Vista! I gathered myself and dusted off my clothes. What the hell was I wearing! It looked to be I had on leather boots, green tights, and a tunic with a light layer of chain mail over it. I felt my hip and sure enough there was a sword at my side. What was I? Some kind of warrior? Cortez came outta nowhere and landed on my arm. He sure was a sight for sore eyes.
It may help the unfamiliar reader to know that Cortez is the name of a dragon that appears in many of Neil's dreams.
“Excuse me, kind sir.” He had a familiar whisper to his voice. “Would thou have a pence to spare on a poor soul such as I?”
I felt around in my pocket. Nothing.
“Sorry, sir, all I have is the shirt on my back and the crow on my shoulder.”
The old man chuckled. What the heck? “Check again,” he mumbled.
I dug into my pocket yet again. Holy Mama Cass! There was a huge mound of gold coins!
The beggar laughed and removed his hood. It was Tom! That trickster got me again!
“Neil,” he said lighting a stogie, “I’ll cut to the chase. We’re in Medieval Europe. There’s trouble brewing, and you’re the guy this kingdom needs. King Robert, well, you’ll be in his court soon. You’ll be needing this -” Tom handed me a beautiful wooden lute. It had “N” and “Y” carved into it. Beautiful.
Neil Young is a famous musician, even in his dreams.
“What kind of trouble are we talking about, Tom? Fair maidens in peril? Barbarian attacks?”
Tom took a drag and then put it out on his shoe. “I’ll tell you what. Stick by that lute and I promise you’ll be fine. Oh, and you may be needing this.” Tom then handed me a small vile. “From the Doc.” He nodded. “Only use it if you come to a battle of… spells and fantasy.”
I nodded. Tom meant business. “We heading to the castle, then? Lead the way!”
“Dave should be here any minute to take you there. Yours truly is heading to the pub. Medieval grog may be about as lethal as drinking petrol, but you only go around once.”
“Dave? Dave Crosby? Dave Matthews? Come on, Tom!”
"I know far too many musicians named Dave, now that I think about it."
Suddenly, a knightly looking figure riding atop a steed came into sight. It was Dave Grohl, my dinner date! Here he was, all in plated armor and a sword just like Aragorn’s!
Dave’s horse whinnied as they stalled, “Easy, Providence!” The horse calmed. “Sir Neil! You’ve arrived!”
I couldn’t believe it. “Dave, this is gonna sound kooky, but I think our ‘real’ world experiences leaked into my unconscious! You know, me passing out at Medieval Times brought us both here!”
I'll leave off my commentary at this point, since there's really not much I can add to the brilliance of Neil's dreams. Thus far we have determined that Neil Young is a lucid dreamer, who is aware that he is dreaming, but still seems breathlessly excited to go on a medieval adventure with Dave Grohl. Can't blame him, really. As some of you may have noticed, the story up to here sounds somewhat like the plot to the movie Black Knight, but I assure you that the remainder is in no way derivative. Go read it.
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