The reoccurring dream would haunt him well into his sedate septuagenarian life at the tidy and humble No Toil or Trouble Rest Home. The majorettes, the bus ride, the big parade in Weeboville, the rain that failed to dampen their enthusiasm for plying their craft at the tri-states 13th largest celebration of Cheese Days with this year’s theme being: No Whey? WHEY! They might have been rural kids but they knew how to par-teh. Over and over virtually every time he dozed, the bus, the rain, the hog truck packed chock a block full of porkers on their way to the festival for the special swine rodeo – he shuddered as it skipped over the divided line and headed right for them. He woke from his nap right before lunch in a cold sweat to hear the aide asking him what he wanted for lunch. He mopped his brow and still tense from his dream said, “Oh the usual Charlie, a bacon sandwich.”