Vietnam convinced him to live life was one day at a day. No dreaming of tomorrow, just survive today.  Fantasying about tomorrow, expecting dreams to be some road map to navigate through life, was a waste of time. This was the world for Dylan Steward, talented reporter, and an equally talented musician. His wife, Willow, was polar opposite. A child of the “Flower Power” generation of the 60s, for  her the purpose of life was to dream, to fantasies about “What if?”, to see the world not for what it was, but how to make it better. Her dream was to have children. They would be her instrument of change, to make the world a better place. At days end, Dylan often lost himself playing jazz on his Gibson or doing small gigs in San Francisco on weekends. This was his true passion and Willow knew he should follow it. A job as a reporter on the LA Times would bring tragedy for one and fulfillment for another. Dylan’s career as a report at the LA Times blossomed. His boss, Jimmy Donovan, loved him. He made a few friends, the most intriguing being a crippled old black man, Willis Carpenter, who sold magazines in the lobby. A small jazz club in Venice Beach served to feed Steward’s hidden passion. With Willow pregnant, their world seemed idyllic.  One day it all changed. A careless move by an obstetric nurse during an examination caused Willow Steward to hemorrhage and die. Dylan’s life spiraled out of control. Alcohol became his refuse. Jimmy Donovan was on the verge to firing him. A savior appeared in the unlikely personage of Willis Carpenter, the black man who sold magazines at the Times. Donovan knew this was his last chance to save Steward’s job and his life. Steward found himself traveling to France to interview Willis Carpenter and a woman name Anastasie Bouchet. There outside Bordeaux, France, Dylan Steward would learn the power of dreams to overcome the impossible, to make the unbearable bearable, and that a life without dreams is really no life at all.