Remember the heyday of shows like The Love Boat and Fantasy Island where unemployed stars of yesteryear would pop up in really random roles and even more bizarre scenarios on a weekly basis? In today’s world of limited-run series and prestige dramas on premium cable and streaming services, those shows are all-but extinct. The only way you can find celebrities popping up in ludicrous situations is in your dreams — or at least my dreams. Because, boy howdy, through the years, I’ve had a quite a few surprising celebrity cameo appearances while getting 40 winks.
In the event you’re starved for nostalgia or just a rabid fan of Louis Gossett Jr., Glenn Danzig, The Iron Sheik, and/or Sir Laurence Olivier, allow me to be your personal Aaron Spelling — minus the big bank account, lengthy resume of producer credits, and the fact that I’m also not dead. So, strap in and get ready for a star-studded romp through my dreams!
Louis Gossett Jr.: My Shopping Buddy
I don’t know of too many teenage girls who dreamed about hanging out with actor Louis Gossett Jr. during the mid-’90s, but apparently, I’m on that short list. I don’t know what prompted it. It had been years since An Officer and a Gentleman was the NBC Movie of the Week. I didn’t watch Roots until my junior or senior year of high school. Sure, there was an off-chance I stumbled into the living room in a fit of insomnia and walked past Dad watching Iron Eagle or Iron Eagle 2 while en route to the kitchen. Yet, I vividly recall a dream where I was desperately seeking an orange ribbed, short-sleeved mock turtleneck top — and Louis Gossett Jr. was my shopping buddy determined to help me find one.
In my dream, I entered the mall with the singular purpose of looking for said piece of apparel. Upon entering, Louis Gossett Jr. was hanging out near the fountain in the middle of the mall, right outside Orange Julius. (There’s a definite orange theme here.)
“You look like you’re on a mission,” he said, sipping from his frothy, frosty, fruit-flavored beverage.
I nodded and told him what I was looking for.
A smile crossed his face. “Well, let’s go then!”
We tore through the mall, relentlessly searching every shop in sight for an orange ribbed mock turtleneck. Lou — we were on an abbreviated name basis at this point — and I went to Deb, to Fashion Bug, to JC Penny’s. Our search finally led us to the junior’s department at Sear’s.
“Got it!” Lou exclaimed, holding up the fabled short-sleeved orange ribbed mock turtleneck. “What size do you wear?”
I grabbed a medium and tried it on in a fitting room, with Lou thoughtfully providing me with a fit check to make sure I didn’t look lumpy or bumpy. Ribbed tops can be hit or miss.
Lou gave me the thumbs up and also suggested it would look smart with a pair of wide-legged glen plaid trousers or a high-waisted brown glen plaid skort and boots.
Seriously. Lou was an awesome fashion consultant.
Then I woke up.
Sadly, Louis Gossett Jr died in 2024. I’ll admit I felt unusually sad when I heard of his passing. I may not have met the man, but in my dreams, there was no one else I’d rather go shopping with.
My Date with Danzig
Many years later — in my late 30s — I dreamed that I was dating Glenn Danzig, former lead singer of the band The Misfits and his solo project (called what else but) Danzig. I have no idea where this dream came from, as I’d never even remotely entertained the notion of hooking up with Glenn Danzig. Not that he’s an unattractive dude. It just never crossed my mind. Or at least my conscious mind. My subconscious, on the other hand, was way into it.
Dream Date Glenn (think: short, heavily-muscled, goth Ken doll) was not a sparkling conversationalist and spoke in mumbled sentences consisting of five words or less. However, the upshot was that he was super jacked and only about an inch or two taller than me. I’m 5’1″ and (both real-life and Dream Date) Glenn is 5’3″, which made for less awkward hugs or dancing. However, as one might surmise, Danzig don’t dance.
In the dream, Danzig was not a rock icon, but a professional dog walker. So, while Real Life Danzig hauls home giant boxes of kitty litter for his cats, Dream Date Glenn walked large dogs for profit — and in daylight, no less!
Like something out of a bad Lifetime movie for goths, the “meet cute” with Dream Date Glenn involved helping him try to wrangle a wayward mutt in excess of 60 lbs. Apparently, my canine capturing abilities impressed Dream Date Glenn enough to ask me out on a date, which was filled with terrible, stilted conversation and awkward pauses. So…. not too different from real-life dinner dates I’ve had that involve me attempting to hold down at least 75% of the conversation with an unwilling party. The only difference is that I got to wake up instead of stare into a pool of chicken parm, thinking “Welp, I guess this is it.”
Training with The Iron Sheik
I’ve been a lifelong wrestling fan, so it came as no surprise when, a few years ago, I dreamed I was a wrestler. There I was: boots-deep in a 30-woman Battle Royal, scrapping for a shot at the gold and tossing other fierce femmes over the top rope. Suddenly, I was jumped from behind and flung over the ring ropes myself by a bevvy of Barbies who had quadruple teamed me.
Naturally, Dream Wrestler Me was pretty damn pissed, throwing a fit outside the ring. But do you know who was even more pissed?
The Iron Sheik!
From the top of the ramp near the TitanTron, a loud voice with a heavy Iranian accent proclaimed: “THIS IS FACKING BOOLSHEET!!!”
The Sheik rushed to my side, hoisted me to my feet and said, “YOU IS THE REAL! THESE FACKING DIVAS…. THIS SLAP-AND-TICKLE BOOLSHIT! THEY IS JABRONI! YOU IS THE REAL! YOU COME TRAIN WITH SHEIK. I SHOW YOU OLD COUNTRY WAY TO MAKE THESE DUMB BITCHES HUMBELL!”
What ensued next in my dream was a full-on training montage with the legendary Iron Sheik putting me through the paces and training me for wrestling glory. Push-ups! Sit ups! Bridges! And the infamous Persian Clubs! (Side note #1: If you’ve never tried working out with Persian Clubs, I assure you, they are no joke. I have a small set of 5-lb Persian Clubs and even those are a challenge. I can only imagine the strength required to work with the massive versions the real-life Sheik used.)
By the end of the montage, Dream Wrestler Me was winded. (Yet another instance of dreams imitating reality.) However, Coach Sheik kept me on track, offering encouragement the entire time by telling me, “YOU IS THE REAL! YOU ARE SHEIK CLASS!”
After the rigorous training montage ended, The Sheik gave me his blessing to use the name “The Camel Toe Clutch” for my signature move in tribute to my mentor. (Side note #2: Ironically, in a former life on a metal music message board, I was part of an online wrestling federation. In that incarnation, my finisher was also called The Camel Toe Clutch. Shout out to any of my GWE brethren reading this!)
I woke up before I had more than just a glimpse into my actual match, but will forever be grateful to the dream version of the Iron Sheik for the encouragement (and laughs). The Iron Sheik passed in 2023, bringing an end to a remarkable life filled with triumph and tragedy. I’ll admit I felt more than a little sad when I heard the news. Rest in peace, Sheik. YOU WERE THE REAL!
A Late Night With Laurence Olivier
The most recent celebrity to pop up in my dreams was all-time acting great, Sir Laurence Olivier. A few years ago, I dreamed that I was out of town on a business trip, hanging out in an upscale restaurant while waiting for colleagues to arrive for some work-related function. The clock ticked and my work chums were no-shows.
While sipping a drink at the bar, an older gent with a British accent called out to me.
“Hello, dear! You look like you could use a friend. Have a seat.” He gestured with his drink to the empty chair across from him.
Dream Me squinted. The dude looked kinda like Laurence Olivier. Not young, hot Olivier from Wuthering Heights, but not quite as old as he was in Marathon Man. And certainly not dead, given that the actor had died in 1989.
“Please. Call me ‘Larry’!”
After sitting down and confirming it was indeed Laurence Olivier, Larry inquired about how I ended up here.
“You look disappointed,” he observed.
“Yeah. Maybe I am. It takes some effort to mentally ready myself to do something. Then, when it falls through, it feels like a bit of a let-down. Like all of that anticipation and anxiety was for nothing.”
“Understandable. But these things happen,” he replied. “Do you know what’s really disappointing? When the love of your life is committed to an institution. Now that’s disappointment.”
“You make a valid point.” (Side note #3: In actuality, Vivien Leigh, Laurence Olivier’s second wife, had suffered from tuberculosis. However, mixing alcohol with her medications had prompted a misdiagnosis of a mental disorder. Her doctors subjected her to brutal ice baths and electroshock therapy, further altering her personality and weakening her constitution prior to her death.)
“But we’re here now! Let’s make the best of the evening and have some fun!” Larry declared, mustering the tone of his classic Henry V St. Crispin’s Day Speech. “Go on. Ask me anything!”
“What was it like working with Marilyn Monroe?”
“Candidly?” Larry grinned. “Beautiful woman. Not very professional. And a bit of a cunt.”
I laughed and admitted that I’d always preferred Mae West in terms of big screen blondes.
I don’t remember much else from the dream, except that I had a really good time chatting with Larry. And that spinach artichoke dip was a big hit with him.
When the time came to call it a night, Larry insisted that he walk me back to my hotel room to ensure I arrived safely. As we walked out into the snowy street, he chivalrously draped his jacket over my shoulders. When we arrived at my destination, he gave me a kiss on the forehead and bid me goodnight. What a guy!
And then I woke up. I have no idea what brought about that dream. However, while it was more like catching up with a good friend, it was a nice contrast to the dud of a dream date with Danzig a few years ago. Thanks, Larry!
The Stars Come Out At Night
Today’s television might not give us such whimsical and implausible plots as Julie Newmar hitting on Don Knotts or Ricardo Montalban’s Mr. Roarke squaring off against Roddy McDowell’s satanic majesty. But at least you can rely on your dreams to offer ridiculous plots and occasional guest appearances from both living and deceased celebrities.
Ever have a weird dream featuring a celebrity? Drop me a line in the comments! And if not, to conjure yet another dead celebrity, I hope your next sleep brings you champagne wishes, caviar dreams, and a cameo from Robin Leach.
Image Credits
- Header image photo collage created in Canva using photos sourced from Wikimedia Creative Commons.
Photo credits (clockwise, left to right): - Creative Commons: Lou Gossett Jr., 1978 – L.A. Times / UCLA Library Digital Collections – Cropped from original
- Creative Commons: Laurence Olivier by Allan Warren – Cropped from original
- Creative Commons: Glenn Danzig – Photo credit: BradSerious – Cropped from original
- Creative Commons: Iron Sheik 6.13.09 by Luigi Novi – Nightscream – Cropped from original
I dreamed that I was with Mariah Carey in her giant bedroom/walk-in closet, and she made me go downtown on her. And it was amazing. It was like delicious sunbeams of golden light on my tongue.
Dare I ask if she hit a high note like Madeline Kahn in “Young Frankenstein”? “Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found youuuuuuuuu!”
These are awesome dreams. I know I have had many celebrity dreams over the years, and had that my memory is fuzzy on the details of many right now. Two highlights: Sitting in the back of some big old boat car in the Bunker Hill section of Dunmore. Sammy Davis Jr was in the front passenger seat and we were waiting for someone to come out of a grocery store that used to be there. Double high creepy factor: he asked me if I wanted to see his glass eye, and I was like no thank you, please keep it in. And the dream was the day after he passed away in 1990. WTF 😬
Another one from c. 1992 that sounds slightly lurid but was oddly innocent and cool. I was a model (haha) in a photo shoot with Robert Smith of the Cure, with him in full makeup of course. We were in a cool Soho loft of some sort and only wearing white sheets on a bed. That sounds scandalous but they really were like clothing. Lazy fashion! When the photographers were messing with their equipment, I told him “I am falling in love with you, but I need to see you without makeup sometime.” 😅 So cringe. And honestly, though I really like the Cure, I never had any crush on him whatsoever. But I woke up feeling like I was so cool 😂
Those are great! I love Sammy Davis, Jr. so that dream would have made my day… err… night. But the timing of it is eerie!
I completely understand what you mean about the Robert Smith dream. Oddly, it sounds very on-brand for him. There’s something innocent about him. In all honestly, it sounded like a very sweet dream and kind of a nice one to have. (And a better dream date than Danzig, that’s for sure!)