Dream Trial  I'm on trial. I'm in a courtroom sitting on the right hand side of a judge. There is a witness before me. She is asked no questions. My lawyer, who is black, and reminds me of Robert from my music class, does not question anyone. So, it is the prosecution's turn. I am sworn in. The judge talks to me. Between the first witness and myself there is a recess. Kids play baseball with a blow-up bat and ball. Everyone scrambles to regain composure as the judge is about to re-enter the courtroom. I scramble too, and my feet fly off the floor at one point. I am being charged with Assault 200. The maximum penalty for that is 9 years in prison. I was driving a boat while drunk, and I hit a car that was towing a boat. There were no injuries. I hit the car on the passenger side. A diagram is used in the courtroom to replay the events as they were said to have occurred. I tell the judge and the jury my story when I'm on the witness stand. When I do this, I am in my back yard at home, and the jury is on the roof of my house! I tell them I don't remember much because I was drunk. I tell them I was in downtown Wilmerton in the large parking lot across from the Perkins and the movie theatre. I was driving drunk and I knew authorities were near. At this point I am swinging on a tire swing in my back yard drinking a beer. I say that what I am on trial for was a dream. I say to the jury: "I don't know if you all believe in dreams, but I do. I've been journaling them for four or five years." I say it is concrete evidence. Then I think to myself, "A dream as concrete evidence?" A dream is not concrete evidence to these people.