The Chopper Killed My Teeth

I had a traumatic dream the other night that’s interesting and vivid enough for me to remember and want to understand.  It was filled with action, trauma, people close to me.  I can’t recall what got me to this place, I think there was a chase, but I was in a room – in a house, not my house – but somewhere.  I was standing with a close friend of mine when we heard a helicopter.  It was dark outside, nighttime, and as we looked through the glass window, the helicopter (I think it was a news station) was too close, it was crashing and ended up taking a direct nose dive right in front of us.  Literally, the nose of the helicopter crashed into the pavement, right there, igniting a huge fireball that I somehow managed to anticipate.  I knocked down my friend to protect us both from the fire, the shattering glass, and the debris that were flying toward us.  The next thing I know, I’m standing, cupping my hand to my chin, and all of my teeth have fallen out into my hand.  I don’t think I felt pain, just urgency to save my mouth, save my teeth, and maybe save my smile – which is what arguably what I’m known for.

Back to real life.  The next day, I’m walking to see if I can catch a glimpse of the President, and something sparks a memory of the dream I had last night.  It’s vivid, it’s real, it’s colorful when I’m awake.  In my adventure to try and see the President, two things happen – a security chopper is circling above the buildings and a police officer on the street who I’d been talking with, left me with these parting words, “keep smiling.”

I’m not a big dream analyzer, but I think this one is pretty weird.  Especially because I’m still thinking about it 2 days later.