Dreams of Father

In the dream I was in New York to visit my Father for Father's Day. I had spent the night in Brooklyn to visit an old friend from Birmingham named Coleman McFadden whom I had known in the 70's.
I was sore with Cole because he couldn't show me what I wanted to see.
Coleman had said, "Is there anything you want to see while you are in Brooklyn?"
"I'd like to see where Ebbets Field was located, where Dem Bums played."
"I have no idea where that is."
"Then what good are you, Coleman?"
The next day I'm out to meet my Father. He told me to meet him at Trump Tower where he worked. I had no idea what he did at Trump Tower for a living, only that for some reason he had started speaking a lot of Russian.
The Iranian cab driver named Hussein said, "I'll drive you there for free if you'll introduce me to your Father and I'll show you where the Field used to be."
"Deal! Why do you want to meet my Father? I have no idea what he does."
"If he works at Trump Tower he can get things done, and I need to get some things done."
"Okey Dokey."
I woke up as the cab was crossing the Brooklyn Bridge after we had driven down Bedford Avenue past the apartment complex where Ebbets Field used to be. I wonder what Hussein wanted done.