"Dre-ee-ee-ee-am, dream, dream, dream, dree-eam..."

I have dreams.

Maybe not on the level of the "I have a dream" speech from M.L.K., but they are dreams just the same.

I have a dream that I'll one day play a guitar in front of people and sing a song that I, myself composed, and they will cry tears of joy at the beauty of it.

I have a dream that my Buffalo Bills will win a Super Bowl, even if the team has to play half its games in Canada.

I have a dream that I will dupe someone into paying me thousands and thousands of dollars to write and have a title that includes the words "editor-at-large" and/or "best-selling."

I have a dream to one day drive this 100-mph up Route 93 to my ski lodge with three fireplaces and an outdoor hot tub.

My brother, apparently, has different dreams.

I woke up the other day to this email:

"Hey, I had a weird, random dream last night where you were killed by a gang of Chinese mafia members. So, if you're dealing in the black market a bit, you may want to chill out for a little while..."

This followed up an email he sent me a couple months back:

"So, weird dream last night... I don't remember all the details, but I was chasing you and Dylan (a friend of ours) with a knife. I think I killed both of you. If it makes you feel any better, I was crying while I did it - in my dream, not real life."

Well now... it looks like we have a perfect example of Middle-Child Syndrome taken a step too far.

Normal middle children "bemoan their fate as being ignored and often grow resentful of all the parental attention given to the oldest and the baby of the family, and feel short-shifted... They have to compete for family attention against the milestones set by the oldest, and growing up in their shadow. Middle children have to try a little harder to “be heard” or get noticed. The middle child usually has to fight harder for the attention of their parents and therefore crave the family spotlight."

However, nowhere in that article does it talk about younger brothers having dreams about their older, shockingly handsome, brothers dying horribly bloody deaths - at their own hands, no less. That sort of thing is just sick... paging Dr. Freud!

I have another dream. I have a dream of a world where older brothers and younger brothers can join hands and sing in the words of that oldie, but a goodie:

"Lean on me/when you're not strong. I'll be your friend/I won't kill you in your sleep."