On a bus

I dreamed we were traveling in a bus up to see the New York Metropolitans baseball club play a game somewhere in the Catskills. The air was rich with that autumn smell. We had stopped and now were around a small fire, talking with other people arrayed in the team's gear. They were speaking frantically about how the New York governor had pushed through legislation that would allow her the power to unilaterally allow her to select the lineup and otherwise strip manager Buck Showalter of his powers. Two young men, one a very dark skinned African American and another a man with a Middle Eastern look, rounded glasses, and a wispy beard, gesticulated wildly. They were in disbelief. "She doesn't know the first thing about managing a baseball team," they said. I nodded in agreement, and then we all piled back onto the bus and rolled onward into the darkening twilight.