Hope Never Follows Doors

The other night I had a dream that I was staying, with family and friends, at some rustic motel/chalet/cabin place a few states away. I had my bags with me, and afterwards I was going to drive to a city not so far away. But first I would have to drive back to my parents' place, a few states away, to exchange my bags for some others. And then drive all the way back to the city.

Time came to leave, and everyone else had already left. I was about to go, but sat down in the lobby first to check things out on a big flat screen TV. I brought up one program on the screen, in another tab (as if in Firefox), and it was about an old rock band, its members now grey haired, and how some day after they retired they might bring out an album with some songs they had recorded years ago but never released. And one of these songs was playing:

Oh, hope never follows doors
And doors never follow sense

And it was silently understood that this song also had something to do with Obama. And then I got ready to leave the cabin and go out to my car, a real 60s car which was parked on the grass out on the other side.

Only as I ran toward my car, I suddenly realized that I was naked. And then the thought came to me, oh well, living far out in the countryside one gets used to the idea of having to go outside naked once in a while. And I got into my car, behind the steering wheel, and then I was trying to get clothes out of a bag to get dressed. And I thought I'd better hurry up, because I saw a police car going down the road past me turn off up on the far side of the cabin.

And it wasn't making it any easier to get dressed, crammed in there in the driver's seat, right behind the steering wheel.