Another dream

Last night I had a funny dream that could've been a very poorly written screwball comedy about a jewel thief who goes into a jewelry store for his last hit, where he meets an older saleswoman and gets so nervous, he introduces himself twice; once, with his real name ("Charles Schultz"), and once with a fake name he makes up on the spot ("Hubert Chapeau" - I knew, when I heard him say this name in my dream that there's a good fake name, and that I wanted to be sure to remember it). He tells her he's looking for a string of pearls for his daughter, who's getting married. He kind of looks like Don Van Vliet (AKA Captain Beefheart), which makes sense, since Patrick and I watched a couple of old videos from when he was on David Letterman in the 1980s, last night. After he leaves the store, the suspicious saleswoman contacts the police, who send in a young, handsome detective to investigate. He poses as a salesman in the store, and waits for "Hubert/Charles/Don" to return. (In my dream there was a long section here about how the store uses two-way mirrors for security purposes and everyone watching the interaction of the jewel thief and the saleswoman knew he was a thief, and this was actually the most interesting part of the whole dream, but I don't remember any details). He doesn't, but his daughter (who looked a lot like the actress Elisabeth Moss, best known for playing Zooey Bartlet on The West Wing) does, and the detective falls for her, without knowing who she is. Or maybe this is supposed to be me, since Andrea and I have decided that when the movie of her life (or my life... it could happen) is made, Elisabeth Moss, with a tan and an extra 20 pounds, can play me.

So. They strike up a friendship, and she invites him to meet her family, who live near the coast of what looks like France, and he goes with her, not realizing (a) that she's the daughter of the hapless jewel thief, and (b) that she's getting married the next day. At her home, he meets her dad for the first time while he is playing in the swimming pool with her two little twin sisters (redheads... I just re-read Robert Heinlein's book "Time Enough For Love," in which two redheaded twin girls play a small part; I'm pretty sure Hubert/Charles/Don doesn't harbor the same creepy incestuous feelings toward the twin girls as Robert Heinlein allows Lazarus Long, his man character in that book, to feel), but he's so in love with this woman that he doesn't care who her dad is: jewel thief; wacky singer/composer/artist/sculptor; creator of the Peanuts, whatever. Her mother is blond and looks a bit like Caroline Ingalls. The two twins are adorable, irascible, and too smart for their own good. And the jewel thief's daughter is pretty, funny, and well-dressed. Hey, she lives in France. Of course she's well-dressed.

The whole family adores Detective boy (DB), who gets himself invited to the wedding, but the jewel thief's daughter's fiance never shows up, so the whole family ends up spending the night playing card games, and DB pulls the jewel thief's daughter aside to, you know, declare his love or something...

And then I woke up.