So, I just had a weird dream last night.
My wife and I  were flying back to Canada, and we had flown into a smaller airport for  some reason, taken a bus, and then somehow got stranded in the middle of  Ontario. While we were looking at the map of Canada, she said we were  very far away from where we needed to be. I said, No problem, and  proceeded to move a red dot on the map that represented us and drag the  red dot across the map closer to where we wanted to go, somewhere around  a border between Quebec and Ontario. When we looked up, we were  standing beside a highway, and I couldn't decide whether we were  supposed to go left or right, and my wife said we go left, that's the way  to Toronto. (We were trying to get to Toronto.) So we began walking  left, and immediately ended up in a giant beach resort with the sun  shining and people laughing and carrying around drinks and flowers in  their hair. The beach resort was named a small place that I ', so familiar with although I can't for the life of me remember  what it was called. (I saw a sign in a dream, but it changed when I  looked at it three times from Vespa Beach, to Perdue, to what it  actually was, which I don't remember.)
 
My wife looks at the map,  and says, with an extremely distressed tone, that we were VERY far away  from where we needed to be. At this point there was a bit of a  commotion, and for some reason, Tim Allen showed up with the lady who  played his wife off of Home Improvement, with really gray hair, being  followed around by about fifteen people all asking if they could take  pictures of him, and he posed and was pleasant to them. My wife also asked  to take a picture of him, which she did, and I wanted to stop her  because, hey, the man's on a vacation. That's no way to treat him. After  they left, he sighed a sigh of relief, and walked over to the beach to  sit by himself. I was now alone, and I don't know where my wife went, but I  assumed she went into the store to figure out a plan how to get to  Toronto. I walked up under a little side hut attached to the main  lounge, and looked at Tim Allen sitting on the beach all by himself,  with the tide coming on a perfect sandy beach, and felt pretty forlorn  over the fact that I was supposed to be in Toronto and that I was in a  beautiful beach resort miles and kilometres and days and days of walking  away from my destination. I heaved a big sigh and started to walk away.
Then  someone called from behind, "Hey man, why you so sad?" I thought for a  moment it was Tim Allen talking to me, and since I didn't think I really  ought to deserve talking to anybody famous, I felt pretty flattered,  like I was in one of those TV miniseries where good things happen to  people who are down on their luck or Sidekicks with Chuck Norris or  something. (Yes, I know. I was dreaming.) I turned around and I big  group of black guys that I didn't notice before were staring right at  me, as if I was the new show in town. This one guy with dreadlocks  started talking to me, asking why I was so sad when I was in such a nice  place. He said he's always happy, and he lives off of water and eating  small things like seeds. He reminded me of King Louie from the Jungle  Book, with the way he was talking to me. I was afraid he was going to  start breaking into Bob Marley's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" with his posse  as back up singers. Luckily, Tim Allen happened to come over and asked  what the problem was. The guys answered for me, and said I was miles and  kilometres and days away from where I was supposed to be and so I was  sad. Tim Allen wanted to buy the men a drink for being so nice to me,  and they tried to turn him down because they said they don't drink or  eat a lot of things that he was offering them, but then one of the beach  waitresses came around, and Tim Allen looked at her, and she said,  "Don't worry, I'll bring them some vegetables and things they like." The  guys looked pretty happy, and Tim Allen asked me to go sit a little  ways away under the shade with him and talk about things. He asked where  I was going, and who was that girl I was traveling with? I said she is my wife, and Tim Allen nodded, and then we sat for a  while, just staring out, watching the people, and I suddenly felt a lot  more relaxed and like I shouldn't worry so much about where I was  going. We talked a little more, and then one the waitresses came and  bothered him, to which he said a few things. I was surprised he didn't  have bodyguards or more people around him since he had a pretty big  career, and he said that People with less fame than him walk around with  a horde of people following him just because they want them, and he has  only one person. He sounded kind of critical. We laid in the sand for a  little longer in silence. Then he started talking about various things,  most of which I don't remember, since I then woke up.
Dreams are strange things.