I was married to an unfamiliar man last night who was convinced--and trying to convince me--that our adolescent son was Jesus.
My husband was somewhat stocky, stout, and blonde and he didn't seem crazy, though I wondered. My son was lean, tall, had blonde hair and was clearly popular. My husband wanted him to not listen to music, though it was apparent our son had a proclivity towards music--making it, and listening to it. I saw my son surrounded by his friends, and yes, he gave off a nice aura, but he was Jesus? My husband tried to keep music away from our son and I finally confronted him, pleasantly, on Hollywood Blvd. near Highland. I tried to reason with him, Okay, you think our son is Jesus? Yes, he replied. Then that means I'm the mother of Jesus and I am a virgin? And I can't have sex? No, I cannot accept that. And I left it at that.
Next scene: a theme park I have never seen before. It seemed to revolve around cartoon characters. The theme park workers were getting drunk and acting crazy in general and I thought it was a little unusual and wondered if they feared any of their bosses coming across that. Then, a "log jam" kind of ride, with water and chutes and little water-vehicles slipping and sliding. I watched fthe splashing and movement from nearby.
