Better than drugs?

I've started biking longer distances to work lately, which has left me more worn out than usual. As a result, I've been collapsing into bed around 10:30, about an hour and a half earlier than I am accustomed to.

As a side effect of this, I have been sleeping more soundly and having some weird, weird dreams. This morning I had a recurring vignette where I would be griping about Steve Martin and how he used to do this great, ironic, biting comedy (like "Cruel shoes" and The Jerk), but now he just does unimaginitive pablum (like Cheaper By the Dozen). And then it would turn out he was standing behind me. Oh, one of these variants involved a friend housesitting the house next door to him and someone's pet goliath birdeater. Yeah, that woke me right up.

I also had this wacky dream where I was making a movie about someone making a movie. The guy who played Miles Silverberg on Murphy Brown played the director of the movie-within-the-movie. It was basically about how the production fell apart, sort of like a situation comedy version of Lost in La Mancha. The kicker (and one of the few things I still remember clearly) was that they were in the field shooting and the camera broke, so they had to make do with whatever they could rent nearby. It turned out that the replacement camera only shot in ultra-widescreen (a la The Great Escape), which ended up meaning that when the film was screened, it had to be halted 10 minutes before the end for a reel change. Not even remotely technically accurate, but it's funny what your subconscious dredges up when you are asleep.