MOULTRIE — I don’t know which is worse, not being able to sleep because you can’t turn your mind off or being able to sleep but dreaming incredibly stupid dreams and waking up tired from it all.

Just a few nights ago, I had one of those “can’t-turn-my- mind-off” deals where I thought about everything under the sun. And I think recent events tend to lend to such phenomenon.

You see I had been watching a lot of the History and Discovery channels recently because during the holidays there’s nothing on but “Miracle on 34th Street” and “ It’s a Wonderful Life.” Anyway, these channels have had many shows about the “unknown” like things that go “bump in the night” and speculation on how our universe was formed. In all of these, the narrators have these deep mystic voices that lend to supernatural and “unexplained” documentaries. James Earl Jones and Peter Coyote apparently make beer and fish bait money doing this on the side.

And of course someone is playing organ music in the background, and there’s a choir going “aaaaaaahhhhhhh.”

And I wondered just how much those added elements actually spike the suspense of these presentations. Then I wondered what would be the perception if Larry the Cable Guy was the narrator and if the music in the background involved a steel guitar or maybe that music they play on the ice cream truck.

I also wondered what if the Pilgrims had feasted on squirrel that first Thanksgiving, and what if Native Americans had been equipped with assault rifles. I’m guessing rent would be a lot higher than it is now.

Sometimes I invent stuff when I can’t sleep. The other night I designed a fake fruitcake that is hollowed out inside. You would put your valuables inside it and just leave the bogus fruitcake sitting out in plain view. I put a little mold growing on it just in case a burglar happened to have a fetish for fruitcake.

I have written more than once about stupid dreams. I’ve even cross referenced with other people who have stupid dreams.

I think more people have stupid dreams than logical dreams. Some will admit it and some lie about it.

The other night I dreamed I jumped a freight train to get a ride to town. As luck would have it, I jumped into a boxcar that didn’t have a bottom, and I had to run all the way to town. It really got tricky at points because there were three trestles along the way. Talk about waking up tired!

Then I dreamed I planted 40 acres of marijuana. And a few weeks later someone discovered that smoking dog fennel would get you high. That was a buzzard luck dream!

In the Old Testament, dreams often got interpreted. I don’t know if there’s anyone who does that professionally today but if not I think there’s a market for it. What I mean is, we have dog whisperers and people who communicate with the dead, so I think interpreting dreams is ready for its share of the reality shows.

So I was watching this guy who picks people out of the audience and tells them about a friend or loved one who has passed on. It’s so hokey you would think third graders wrote the script.

“Oh yes ma’am. I sense there’s something about your recently passed uncle who’s trying to speak to us. His name begins with “M”.

The lady responds: “No, his name was Paul.”

“Right. Like I said, his name begins with “M” .... Mr. Paul.”

Oh well, if you seek a patent for that fruitcake safety deposit box, I think I should get some royalties. And please don’t pay me in fruitcake or chocolate covered raisins.

Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of the Moultrie Observer.