I dreamed this my senior year in highschool when I was going to be the last to leave the family for college and my dad had recently died. This was also back in the days when Russia and the U.S. were not getting along too well.
I dreamed I was going to the Olympics as a gymnast and the Olympics were being held, of all places, in the fieldhouse of a little park behind our house. In the dream I was aware that Russia had inflicted some odd type of warfare on us and my mother had warned, as I was still on my way to the Olympics, that I would not be affected by this invisible and most unusual force as long as I did not fall down. I then realized, somehow, that I would feel much like a bottom-heavy punching bag that little boys used to have as toys, and the idea was that I could tip over almost all the way and still be safe. Then my plans changed when I got outside of my house and my family was suddenly gathered outside, trying to get up into a Goodyear blimp. There was a very long red carpet stretched from the blimp to the ground and everyone was walking up it...everyone except my aunt who insisted on my help to get her Buick up the carpet. God know why! So we got in it and each of us stuck a foot out on either side of the car, and we "Flinstoned" it all the way up into the sky. When we got to the top and were about to get into the Goodyear Blimp, my aunt suddenly lost interest in her car when she seemed to see some man that interested her. (Odd, because my aunt was a spinster.)
So she got out of the car and, so did I, and the car rolled expertly in reverse straight back down the carpet unharmed.
Then we entered the Goodyear Blimp and there were many people including my family, including some relatives who had died, including my father. I was told it was necessary that we all dance and keep dancing or the blimp would spin upside down and we'd all die. Then I woke up. And that, to this day, many years later, it the weirdest dream I've ever had.