Bootleg Ham

Once in a while I have one of these crazy dreams that’s just too absurd to forget. Here was last night’s, I’m thinking about keep a record of them.

It wasn’t a very long dream; I had the general sensation that a totalitarian regime had overtaken the United States and banned cured meats. The dream started at the entrance of a derelict stone building in a deciduous forest that looked much like the one close to my home in France. I anxiously approached the thuggish Jamaican man who guarded the building. He walked me down a spiraling stone stairway, the air was cool and humid. At the bottom of the stairs we entered what seemed to be both literally and figuratively an underground butcher shop. The room was white and surprisingly well lit, from the ceiling hung various dried meats: sausages, ham, jerky and biltong. A second Jamaican man dressed in a white butcher’s apron sold me bootleg Prosciutto. I woke up.

What this dream really means, I don’t know. Maybe a simple craving for Italian ham? Perhaps it was a reflection on modern society becoming estranged from simple pleasures.