I had the strangest dream last night: I was working in my office, and there were hundreds of Dreams standing in my hallway, making a cacophonous racket as they fought with each other to be the first through the door.
I got up from my desk, threw my glasses down in disgust, and flung the door open so I could tell them to quiet down.
The hallway was empty and silent, and that’s when I woke up.
Here’s part two of The Exciting Adventure of Wil-man and Nolan-boy and the Strange Case of The 2004 Los Angeles Auto Show:

“So where should we start?” I said. My answer came in the form of Nolan running toward the biggest SUV I’ve ever seen. Seriously. It was a few feet shorter than a Star Destroyer.
I caught up with him as he climbed into the back seat.
“Wil! Look at how much room there is in here!” He said as he bounced and extended his legs to barely touch the back of the seat ahead of him.
“Yeah, but the power to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of The Force.” I reminded him.
He looked at me with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“Sorry,” I said, “I was having a nerd moment.”
“Oh, good. I hope we can have lots of those today.” He said, dryly.
“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” I said, and twitched my fingers.
He shook his head and laughed, “Whatever, Wil . . . ”
He hopped out of the truck, a Bvlgari-styled Cadillac Escalade, (which, I must admit, while being quite possibly the most environmentally irresponsible vehicle on Earth, was pretty damn sweet. Its interior was more like a Gulfstream jet than a car) and took my hand.
“Let’s go see the GTO,” he said.
“Do you think it’s going to look any less ugly than last year’s?” I asked him.
“I sure hope so!” he said, and we were off.
We made our way through the crowd, which was quite similar to the 405 on a Friday afternoon, and landed at the Pontiac booth. The 2004 GTO turned slowly on a raised platform in front of us.
“Oh –” he began, and looked up at me. “Can I say a cuss word?”
“What word?”
“The cuss word version of ‘dangit.'”
I looked at the abomination that is Pontiac’s “updating” of the GTO, and heard thousands of voices cry out in disgust, only to be suddenly silenced.
“Yes,” I said, “yes, you may.”
“DAMMIT!” He said, emphatically. “What an ugly pile that is!”
I nodded. “It sucks the most,” I said.
“Aren’t muscle cars supposed to be cool?” He said.
“Yep.”
“Like mom’s Mustang. That’s cool.” He said.
“Yeah. This isn’t a muscle car. It’s like a Taurus that is pretending to be a muscle car. Let’s get out of here before anyone sees us and thinks we’re admiring this thing.”
We hurried out of the Pontiac booth, past a middle-aged couple.
“Oh my god,” the man said as we passed, “I can’t believe they did this to my car.” His wife put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
(More next week. Have a great weekend, everybody!)