I dreamt that I was at my dad's house, and we were hanging out, only we seem to have gotten a crossed line in the time-space continuum for there were some folks from the late 1700s hanging out with us, too. A mother and her two teenaged kids. I'm not even sure which time we were really supposed to be in, for the television could pick up Channel 3 on the aerial (but we didn't want to show this to the other folks for fear of some serious culture and temporal shock, especially when a commercial featured a scantily-clad lady showing off all the wonderful things you can do with a closet organizer) and we had some modern magazines hanging around too. So eventually, however, I figured if I didn't know what era I was supposed to be in, I might as well share knowledge with the others, so I picked up a magazine and showed it to them.
"See," I said, "this magazine is called Time Magazine. And it's from the future. Near my future, to be exact. And it's dated September 12, 1955... no, wait, the date's different, it's September 12, 2255? Holy shit!"
And then I eagerly started leafing through the magazine myself to find all the super-cool future tidbits, though I do admit I had my doubts as to whether or not Time would still be publishing two hundred and fifty years down the road.
Later on I led a group of late 1700s teenagers outside in the snow (we nearly got bowled over by a FedEx truck, and they were all rather worried) and up to some mountain path, where we stood under high tension wires and I taught them all about electricity. Later on we were walking across a bridge to an island where the rest of my family was waiting, and I taught them about our current dependency on oil and all about the energy crises we've faced in the past. Once we reached the island and the summer cabin we were staying at (hello season shift) we had a big dinner and went outside where there were fireworks. Some of the kids wanted to stay in our time, while others wanted to go back and share what they learned. I was still waiting for some kind of Promethean punishment to befall me when I finally woke up.
One of the more expansive, nearly-lucid dreams I've had in a long time -- in color, and with reading comprehension to boot, just to shatter a few dreaming myths. And no, before you ask, there was no cough syrup involved, nor any other kind of chemical stimulation. And that's probably why the dreams were as cool as they were.