It’s more of a nightmare than a dream and it happens every year when the news focuses on the next election series. In it, every politician who has made a promise or proposed a pork-laden congressional bill is allowed to follow through on his proposal. The results are sometimes frightening.

Every inch of border between the United States and Mexico, Canada, the Atlantic ocean and the Pacific ocean has an eight-foot-high fence, topped with spikes and broken glass to keep out all undesirables.

None of these fences have locks or attendants at their many doors which have posted large signs in 11 languages reading: “Don’t tell us who you are. We won’t ask.”

Part of my dream is an architectural masterpiece. It has magnificent arching bridges (toll-free of course) from mainland Alaska to every single one of the Aleutian Islands.

Parallel lines of people are everywhere. One of a pair leads to a large building with a flashing neon sign which reads: “Abortions performed while you wait: Full term, full price; partial birth, partial price. Weekend special: no parental notification required.”

The other line in the pair leads to an angry milling crowd of protesters shouting, “Abortion doctors are murderers. Kill them all!”

My dream has a wide tunnel being burrowed beneath every major U.S. city. The plans and objectives of these tunnels seem to change daily and again weekly. The only unchangeable seems to be the completion date. It is usually infinity.

There are no Army or Navy VIPs in my dream. No generals. No admirals. Just many newspaper columnists and radio talk show hosts directing troop movements and planning our future military operations.

Every justice of the peace office has an ante-room much like the Catholic Church Confessional. The justice is empowered to join in wedlock any two people who happen to be in that little room. Nobody knows who. Nobody cares who.

There are two extremely long lines leading to two buildings, one red and one blue. In one line everyone is carrying a handgun in order to surrender it to the proper authorities. In the other, everyone has a completed application to purchase a handgun just as their “founding fathers had envisioned.”

No matter how often I have this dream, I am always impressed with the friendliness of the politicians. They always have their hand out to me.

Wait a minute! Maybe they’re not trying to shake my hand.

Somebody wake me — please!

Richard C. Wanzer
Peachtree City, Ga.

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