Sunday night (12/30/07)
It was Weight Watchers Weekend at a retreat center, and this year they had a Bee Gees theme. Andy Gibb could be seen bicycling around the compound, smiling at everyone, and Barry Gibb was inside the pavilion, having a drink and talking with one of the members of the program. The guy said, "I'm having trouble losing the first 10 pounds." Barry replied, "Well, those are always the hardest." Later on I was lying in a cot in a large open room, which was a sleeping area for the guests. Two teenage girls were lying near me on the floor, and were vying for my attention. Although it was dark, I could see what they were doing; both opened their sleeping bags / pulled away their covers to reveal that they were naked. (Neither one needed Weight Watchers, either.) I climbed down and pulled the covers back over each of them, and said, "Hey -- my mom can see what you're doing!" (She was in another cot near mine, and was wearing a red checked bathrobe.) The girl to the right was most unhappy that someone else was prying into her business, and exclaimed, "She's a JERK!" Later on I got a call from my wife, who wanted to know how it was going at the center, and where our child was. I paused, and said that I'd left the kid with a babysitter -- one of the teenagers...
*****
My mom in this dream wasn't my real mom, and my wife wasn't my real wife, and we don't have a child. This is almost a cliche -- the older man tempted by the young babysitter. In the real world, my real temptation, as we start this new year, is not young women, but food which will continue to elevate my bad cholesterol. Let's hope that I can get that number headed in the opposite direction.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Christmas Spirit
Saturday night (12/29/07)
I was in a parking garage elevator with several other people; all of us were headed down to the street level. We were going to a nice restaurant where we would dine together. I was wearing my brown leather jacket. I looked to my left and saw a young gay couple, guys in their mid-20s, who looked almost like identical twins. They had short, blondish haircuts, each wore glasses, and both of them wore white button-downs with Christmas slogans emblazoned all over them in red and green: "Merry Christmas!" "Ho Ho Ho!", etc. I said, "I like those shirts." One of the guys said, "Thanks. Susan gave them to us."
*****
The "Susan" that the fellow was referring to is Susan B., the director of my department at work.
I was in a parking garage elevator with several other people; all of us were headed down to the street level. We were going to a nice restaurant where we would dine together. I was wearing my brown leather jacket. I looked to my left and saw a young gay couple, guys in their mid-20s, who looked almost like identical twins. They had short, blondish haircuts, each wore glasses, and both of them wore white button-downs with Christmas slogans emblazoned all over them in red and green: "Merry Christmas!" "Ho Ho Ho!", etc. I said, "I like those shirts." One of the guys said, "Thanks. Susan gave them to us."
*****
The "Susan" that the fellow was referring to is Susan B., the director of my department at work.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Saving the Game
Friday night (12/28/07)
It was the late 1960s or early 1970s, but I was the age that I am now. I was in Manhattan, and went up in a high-rise to the office of retired baseball superstar Joe DiMaggio. I was there to persuade him to give me the address of baseball's commissioner Bowie Kuhn, something that was a closely-held secret. I made my case, and eventually he relented and gave me the address, because I had a plan to save the game he loved. I made my way to Kuhn's office, and walked in without an appointment. Once there, I opened a big square case that I had been lugging around. It contained a metal contraption inside a clear box, which, when placed on a baseball outfield, would chew up and strip off Astro Turf, revealing the natural grass, so that once again the game could be played the way it was intended to be played.
*****
I'm still in Richmond, at the home of my twin brother and sister-in-law. Last night, just before bed, I stood before Drew's bookcase filled with books about baseball, and chose one called "The Glory of Their Times: The Story of the Early Days of Baseball." A biography of Joltin' Joe DiMaggio was next to it.
This dream is a metaphor for the current problems in baseball; I could just as easily have substituted steroids for Astro Turf and Bud Selig for Bowie Kuhn, except for the fact that Selig is probably worse than Kuhn ever was, and the problem of steroids is a lot more difficult to root out and solve than the scourge of Astro Turf.
It was the late 1960s or early 1970s, but I was the age that I am now. I was in Manhattan, and went up in a high-rise to the office of retired baseball superstar Joe DiMaggio. I was there to persuade him to give me the address of baseball's commissioner Bowie Kuhn, something that was a closely-held secret. I made my case, and eventually he relented and gave me the address, because I had a plan to save the game he loved. I made my way to Kuhn's office, and walked in without an appointment. Once there, I opened a big square case that I had been lugging around. It contained a metal contraption inside a clear box, which, when placed on a baseball outfield, would chew up and strip off Astro Turf, revealing the natural grass, so that once again the game could be played the way it was intended to be played.
*****
I'm still in Richmond, at the home of my twin brother and sister-in-law. Last night, just before bed, I stood before Drew's bookcase filled with books about baseball, and chose one called "The Glory of Their Times: The Story of the Early Days of Baseball." A biography of Joltin' Joe DiMaggio was next to it.
This dream is a metaphor for the current problems in baseball; I could just as easily have substituted steroids for Astro Turf and Bud Selig for Bowie Kuhn, except for the fact that Selig is probably worse than Kuhn ever was, and the problem of steroids is a lot more difficult to root out and solve than the scourge of Astro Turf.
Bike Shop
Thursday night (12/27/07)
I was shopping with my 5-year-old nephew, Dominic, when we happened upon a bicycle shop and walked inside. I said, "If you could have any bike in the shop, which one would you pick?" He didn't answer; he was too caught up in looking at all of the varieties, which covered the walls. At one point I handed Domi to one of the workers behind the counter; he held him as I stood on my tip-toes to get a better look at an older bike which was out of reach. (Domi wasn't too thrilled to be handed to someone he didn't know.) A little while later I was done looking at everything, and I carried Dom back outside. I was surprised to see that Domi was starting to cry. He was upset that he didn't get a new bike. I said, "We can't go home to seven brothers and sisters with one new bicycle."
*****
Dom is old enough to walk on his own, but he still likes to be carried. I suppose that it wouldn't be fair to bring a little kid into a bike shop and leave empty-handed, but what do you do when that kid has so many siblings? You don't go to the bike shop in the first place...
I was shopping with my 5-year-old nephew, Dominic, when we happened upon a bicycle shop and walked inside. I said, "If you could have any bike in the shop, which one would you pick?" He didn't answer; he was too caught up in looking at all of the varieties, which covered the walls. At one point I handed Domi to one of the workers behind the counter; he held him as I stood on my tip-toes to get a better look at an older bike which was out of reach. (Domi wasn't too thrilled to be handed to someone he didn't know.) A little while later I was done looking at everything, and I carried Dom back outside. I was surprised to see that Domi was starting to cry. He was upset that he didn't get a new bike. I said, "We can't go home to seven brothers and sisters with one new bicycle."
*****
Dom is old enough to walk on his own, but he still likes to be carried. I suppose that it wouldn't be fair to bring a little kid into a bike shop and leave empty-handed, but what do you do when that kid has so many siblings? You don't go to the bike shop in the first place...
Friday, December 28, 2007
Look: Up in the Sky!
Wednesday night (12/26/07)
Gene P. and I were standing in the the middle of a city at night, surrounded by skyscrapers. We were looking up at the sky, marveling at a huge flying disc, covered with lights, which was hovering not far above the buildings. I said, "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that was a space ship!" Both of us knew that it wasn't -- it was a communications satellite. Gene pointed to it and smiled and said, "There's 3 million people on that thing!"
*****
Gene is now the director of the Nashville branch of the foundation where I used to work. He was always nice to me.
I suppose that any hovering, flying disc carrying 3 million people could rightfully be called a space ship...
Gene P. and I were standing in the the middle of a city at night, surrounded by skyscrapers. We were looking up at the sky, marveling at a huge flying disc, covered with lights, which was hovering not far above the buildings. I said, "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that was a space ship!" Both of us knew that it wasn't -- it was a communications satellite. Gene pointed to it and smiled and said, "There's 3 million people on that thing!"
*****
Gene is now the director of the Nashville branch of the foundation where I used to work. He was always nice to me.
I suppose that any hovering, flying disc carrying 3 million people could rightfully be called a space ship...
Everybody's Waiting
Tuesday night (Christmas)
I was in a convenience store, such as a 7-11, and my wife's sister, Liz, and her husband, Jim, were outside, waiting for me in the car. I was there to buy some stocking stuffers for their kids. It was time for me to pay, and when I opened my wallet, the $50 bill that had been in there was suddely gone. I panicked, and beseeched the people behind the counter and a bunch of folks in line to wait a minute while I looked for it. I could see my brother-in-law and sister-in-law through the window, and they seemed to be frowning and asking the same question as the people at the end of the line: "What's the hold-up?"
*****
My brother- and sister-in-law never expected me to buy any such thing for their kids, and treated me and my wife very nicely during this trip. Having said that, I had planned to pick up some little things, such as pens, to place in the kids' stockings, and never got around to it, so I suppose I was beating myself up about it in this dream.
I was in a convenience store, such as a 7-11, and my wife's sister, Liz, and her husband, Jim, were outside, waiting for me in the car. I was there to buy some stocking stuffers for their kids. It was time for me to pay, and when I opened my wallet, the $50 bill that had been in there was suddely gone. I panicked, and beseeched the people behind the counter and a bunch of folks in line to wait a minute while I looked for it. I could see my brother-in-law and sister-in-law through the window, and they seemed to be frowning and asking the same question as the people at the end of the line: "What's the hold-up?"
*****
My brother- and sister-in-law never expected me to buy any such thing for their kids, and treated me and my wife very nicely during this trip. Having said that, I had planned to pick up some little things, such as pens, to place in the kids' stockings, and never got around to it, so I suppose I was beating myself up about it in this dream.
Fish / The General
Sunday night (12/23/07)
Dream 1: Fish
Actress Meryl Streep was interested in learning about a certain type of fish, which were small as guppies. She stood very still, immersed in a pond, or lake, with only her head above the water, and her back faced the shore. The "camera" was facing her from the lake, focusing on her face. She was hoping that the fish in question would show up. Finally, one fish was curious enough to come in close, so Meryl slowly submerged her head, so she could have a look, eye to eye.
Dream 2: The General
I was kneeling next to my brother Drew, who was sitting in a chair at his desk. We were watching "The Charlie Rose Show" on TV. Rose was interviewing former General Norman Schwarzkoph, and they were taking phone calls on the air. After a few such calls, Rose picked up the phone, but this call wasn't broadcast. After a minute or so, he put the phone down, and said almost apologetically, "That was my nephew." He (the nephew) was a fan of the general, and was asking Rose to relay a question for him. When the taping of the show was over, we could see Schwarzkoph from the back. Rose said to him, "That was very good." N.S. said, "Not bad, eh?" A voice off-camera said, "Go on... talk to him." It was the nephew's mom, encouraging him to go up and meet his hero. He walked up timidly and said, "Mr. Schwarzkoph? Mr. Schwarzkoph?" The general turned around, got up and faced the boy. Schwarzkoph was wearing dark pants, a white button-down shirt, and a light blue tie. The boy said, "I'm Timmy." The general extended his hand and said, "I'm Norman Schwarzkoph, and I'm your good and holy friend."
*****
Andrew has always liked "The Charlie Rose Show." Jimmie, too, for that matter. Drew and I have this running gag, based on my observation that Rose still never seems to know how to sign off at the end of a program. He is amiable, all right, but he does tend to go on and on. Sometimes I'll call Drew's cell phone and imitate Rose, leaving the longest run-on sentence imaginable.
Dream 1: Fish
Actress Meryl Streep was interested in learning about a certain type of fish, which were small as guppies. She stood very still, immersed in a pond, or lake, with only her head above the water, and her back faced the shore. The "camera" was facing her from the lake, focusing on her face. She was hoping that the fish in question would show up. Finally, one fish was curious enough to come in close, so Meryl slowly submerged her head, so she could have a look, eye to eye.
Dream 2: The General
I was kneeling next to my brother Drew, who was sitting in a chair at his desk. We were watching "The Charlie Rose Show" on TV. Rose was interviewing former General Norman Schwarzkoph, and they were taking phone calls on the air. After a few such calls, Rose picked up the phone, but this call wasn't broadcast. After a minute or so, he put the phone down, and said almost apologetically, "That was my nephew." He (the nephew) was a fan of the general, and was asking Rose to relay a question for him. When the taping of the show was over, we could see Schwarzkoph from the back. Rose said to him, "That was very good." N.S. said, "Not bad, eh?" A voice off-camera said, "Go on... talk to him." It was the nephew's mom, encouraging him to go up and meet his hero. He walked up timidly and said, "Mr. Schwarzkoph? Mr. Schwarzkoph?" The general turned around, got up and faced the boy. Schwarzkoph was wearing dark pants, a white button-down shirt, and a light blue tie. The boy said, "I'm Timmy." The general extended his hand and said, "I'm Norman Schwarzkoph, and I'm your good and holy friend."
*****
Andrew has always liked "The Charlie Rose Show." Jimmie, too, for that matter. Drew and I have this running gag, based on my observation that Rose still never seems to know how to sign off at the end of a program. He is amiable, all right, but he does tend to go on and on. Sometimes I'll call Drew's cell phone and imitate Rose, leaving the longest run-on sentence imaginable.
Heron / Fire
Saturday night (12/22/07)
Dream 1: Heron
Duncan S. and I were in our early 20s, and we were renting rooms in the home of my ex-boss, Rod S, and his wife. Their own kids had already moved out of their house at that point, but Rod and his wife still lived there. The place was undergoing an extensive renovation, giving it more of a "modern" look. The upper floor of the house had new drywall, and I noticed that one wall had a door cut into it at a pretty strange angle. The finishing touch would be the installation of a large white sculpture of a great blue heron, resplendent in flight with neck folded in the customary "S" shape, which would sit boldly at the apex of the new roof.
Dream 2: Fire
A young punk, maybe 18 to 20 years old, decided that he'd like to burn a car in a parking lot, just for kicks, so he did. Soon, a crowd gathered; they had followed the billowing smoke and the flames, and all of the onlookers and curiosity-seekers were standing around, waiting for the authorities. One of the members of the crowd surveyed the scene, and he was mightily pissed off. It was Bruce Springsteen, and this was happening in his neighborhood. The "camera" focused on his face, which was very stern and serious, as the flames and smoke danced behind his head. They seemed an apt metaphor for his rising anger. Eventually, the fire department arrived and put the fire out, and the police carted the offender off to jail. A few days later, Springsteen had a hunch about what would happen next. He strolled back to the parking lot (wearing his jeans, boots and a T-shirt) and waited. Sure enough, after a little while, the pyro kid showed up. He had been released temporarily, and returned to the scene of the crime to see what he had wrought. Bruce approached him, as if he wanted to strike up a conversation. The kid turned to look at him, whereupon Springsteen head-butted him in the face, and knocked him to the ground. The kid was still lying there, with blood coming out of his nose, when Bruce stood over him, looking down. He said, "What kind of sentence did they give you?" The kid said what it was, and Springsteen frowned. He said, "That's excessive... it's outside of the Federal guidelines. I want you to know that I'll do everything I can to get you lighter sentence." The young man looked up and said, "You can do that?" Bruce said, "Well, I work nights."
At the end of the dream, Bruce was kicking a soccer ball around with me and our pal, E Street Band guitarist Steve Van Zandt. Somebody kicked it too hard, and it went over a fence into the neighbor's yard. Bruce looked at me and said, "You're up." I was always the go-fer, and I didn't like it. As I opened the picket gate to the neighbor lady's garden, I sang a Steely Dan song to myself: "I don't want to do your dirty work, oh yeah / I don't want to do your dirty work no more."
*****
Dream 1: Heron
Duncan and I worked together at Adcom Art Supplies in the late 1980s and early '90s. We shared a townhouse in Falls Church for several years with a revolving cast of characters. Rod was my previous boss in TN. Fortunately I didn't actually see him in this dream. If I never see him again, that's fine with me. I last laid eyes on him in April 2005. I haven't seen Duncan since I attended his wedding in Connecticut, at least 10 years ago. Jimmie and I took a trip up there to attend their nuptuals, and at one point we rounded a corner at night and nearly hit a deer or two. Memories of that incident, and of the wonderful fall colors and 18th & 19th century architecture are all vivid in my mind to this day.
My wife and I drove up to Virginia last week for the holidays, and we're still in VA now. The day that I had this dream, we got a close-up view of an immense great blue heron as it flew across I-95, maybe 10 feet above our car.
Dream 2: Fire
I like this version of Springsteen, practicing "tough love." You can almost hear him saying, "I'll beat the crap out of you if you screw up my neighborhood, but I'll fight to ensure that you get a fair shake in the courts." His response "Well, I work nights" meant that his "day Job," playing in a rock band, was actually a "night job," which meant that he could fight for truth, justice and the American way during the day time. This dream was no doubt influenced by interviews Bruce has given during the "Magic" tour, in which he has decried the current state of political affairs in the U.S., and how far we've fallen from our ideals.
The close-up of Springsteen with flames behind his head probably came from the image on the picture sleeve single of "I'm on Fire," from 1985. The head-butting incident came from the movie "The Commitments," which my wife and I had watched earlier in the week. The second drummer for band ("The Committments," not the E Streeters) was a violent sort of fellow who was in the habit of jumping into crowds and head-butting people. Top-notch film, that one.
Dream 1: Heron
Duncan S. and I were in our early 20s, and we were renting rooms in the home of my ex-boss, Rod S, and his wife. Their own kids had already moved out of their house at that point, but Rod and his wife still lived there. The place was undergoing an extensive renovation, giving it more of a "modern" look. The upper floor of the house had new drywall, and I noticed that one wall had a door cut into it at a pretty strange angle. The finishing touch would be the installation of a large white sculpture of a great blue heron, resplendent in flight with neck folded in the customary "S" shape, which would sit boldly at the apex of the new roof.
Dream 2: Fire
A young punk, maybe 18 to 20 years old, decided that he'd like to burn a car in a parking lot, just for kicks, so he did. Soon, a crowd gathered; they had followed the billowing smoke and the flames, and all of the onlookers and curiosity-seekers were standing around, waiting for the authorities. One of the members of the crowd surveyed the scene, and he was mightily pissed off. It was Bruce Springsteen, and this was happening in his neighborhood. The "camera" focused on his face, which was very stern and serious, as the flames and smoke danced behind his head. They seemed an apt metaphor for his rising anger. Eventually, the fire department arrived and put the fire out, and the police carted the offender off to jail. A few days later, Springsteen had a hunch about what would happen next. He strolled back to the parking lot (wearing his jeans, boots and a T-shirt) and waited. Sure enough, after a little while, the pyro kid showed up. He had been released temporarily, and returned to the scene of the crime to see what he had wrought. Bruce approached him, as if he wanted to strike up a conversation. The kid turned to look at him, whereupon Springsteen head-butted him in the face, and knocked him to the ground. The kid was still lying there, with blood coming out of his nose, when Bruce stood over him, looking down. He said, "What kind of sentence did they give you?" The kid said what it was, and Springsteen frowned. He said, "That's excessive... it's outside of the Federal guidelines. I want you to know that I'll do everything I can to get you lighter sentence." The young man looked up and said, "You can do that?" Bruce said, "Well, I work nights."
At the end of the dream, Bruce was kicking a soccer ball around with me and our pal, E Street Band guitarist Steve Van Zandt. Somebody kicked it too hard, and it went over a fence into the neighbor's yard. Bruce looked at me and said, "You're up." I was always the go-fer, and I didn't like it. As I opened the picket gate to the neighbor lady's garden, I sang a Steely Dan song to myself: "I don't want to do your dirty work, oh yeah / I don't want to do your dirty work no more."
*****
Dream 1: Heron
Duncan and I worked together at Adcom Art Supplies in the late 1980s and early '90s. We shared a townhouse in Falls Church for several years with a revolving cast of characters. Rod was my previous boss in TN. Fortunately I didn't actually see him in this dream. If I never see him again, that's fine with me. I last laid eyes on him in April 2005. I haven't seen Duncan since I attended his wedding in Connecticut, at least 10 years ago. Jimmie and I took a trip up there to attend their nuptuals, and at one point we rounded a corner at night and nearly hit a deer or two. Memories of that incident, and of the wonderful fall colors and 18th & 19th century architecture are all vivid in my mind to this day.
My wife and I drove up to Virginia last week for the holidays, and we're still in VA now. The day that I had this dream, we got a close-up view of an immense great blue heron as it flew across I-95, maybe 10 feet above our car.
Dream 2: Fire
I like this version of Springsteen, practicing "tough love." You can almost hear him saying, "I'll beat the crap out of you if you screw up my neighborhood, but I'll fight to ensure that you get a fair shake in the courts." His response "Well, I work nights" meant that his "day Job," playing in a rock band, was actually a "night job," which meant that he could fight for truth, justice and the American way during the day time. This dream was no doubt influenced by interviews Bruce has given during the "Magic" tour, in which he has decried the current state of political affairs in the U.S., and how far we've fallen from our ideals.
The close-up of Springsteen with flames behind his head probably came from the image on the picture sleeve single of "I'm on Fire," from 1985. The head-butting incident came from the movie "The Commitments," which my wife and I had watched earlier in the week. The second drummer for band ("The Committments," not the E Streeters) was a violent sort of fellow who was in the habit of jumping into crowds and head-butting people. Top-notch film, that one.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Spoken Word Piece
Tuesday night
I was in England, and was standing on a large, open lawn, watching an avant garde piece performed by boys and girls from an academy of elite students. They wore matching dark blue blazers, and were gathered together as if they were a choir. Their teacher, an older man with white hair, stood behind them; he was wearing a brown suit. As the performance began, various students called out words and phrases, seemingly in no apparent order. No one spoke over anyone else, and the play was not ad-libbed; it was scripted. Everyone knew their part in advance. And so it continued, for several minutes, with the teacher contributing at one point, and finally ending with someone on the front left letting out a scream. When the performance was over, all of us walked to the road which would take us back to the school, off to the right. I overheard someone saying that the teacher lived nearby. I caught up to the teacher and said, "I enjoyed the performance, but what did it mean?" He said, "What do you think it means?" I said, "Well, we're devolving, particularly in America. We were progressing toward enlightenment, but now we're headed in the other direction." He replied, "That's right."
*****
In my few trips to Europe I have gotten the feeling that they are light years ahead of the United States, which is stuck in the Dark Ages in many ways (still fighting over evolution, etc.). Sometimes I allow myself to hope that a President Obama might lift the veil and head us back in the direction of intelligence and progress. Yet, living in Tennessee, I have my doubts that America will elect a black man, particularly one with a "foreign-sounding" name. Yesterday an older coworker said to me, "This is gonna' sound bad, but I'm just not ready for a 'President Obama.' I said, "How is that any stranger than a 'President Eisenhower?'"
I was in England, and was standing on a large, open lawn, watching an avant garde piece performed by boys and girls from an academy of elite students. They wore matching dark blue blazers, and were gathered together as if they were a choir. Their teacher, an older man with white hair, stood behind them; he was wearing a brown suit. As the performance began, various students called out words and phrases, seemingly in no apparent order. No one spoke over anyone else, and the play was not ad-libbed; it was scripted. Everyone knew their part in advance. And so it continued, for several minutes, with the teacher contributing at one point, and finally ending with someone on the front left letting out a scream. When the performance was over, all of us walked to the road which would take us back to the school, off to the right. I overheard someone saying that the teacher lived nearby. I caught up to the teacher and said, "I enjoyed the performance, but what did it mean?" He said, "What do you think it means?" I said, "Well, we're devolving, particularly in America. We were progressing toward enlightenment, but now we're headed in the other direction." He replied, "That's right."
*****
In my few trips to Europe I have gotten the feeling that they are light years ahead of the United States, which is stuck in the Dark Ages in many ways (still fighting over evolution, etc.). Sometimes I allow myself to hope that a President Obama might lift the veil and head us back in the direction of intelligence and progress. Yet, living in Tennessee, I have my doubts that America will elect a black man, particularly one with a "foreign-sounding" name. Yesterday an older coworker said to me, "This is gonna' sound bad, but I'm just not ready for a 'President Obama.' I said, "How is that any stranger than a 'President Eisenhower?'"
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Sky is Falling
Sunday night
I walked into the "old basement" in my parents' house, and found my wife by my dad's work bench. I said that I'd just seen something strange out in front of the house: an acorn-sized thing fell from the sky, followed by a booming voice-over that said, "The Simpsons -- Mostly Progressive." As if that wasn't odd enough, the voice was not that of a Simpsons character. It was the voice of Strong Bad, from homestarrunner.com.
*****
As far as I'm concerned, a little bit of "The Simpsons" goes a long way. I don't really want to spend a lot of my time watching a dumb guy who drinks a lot of beer.
Somebody introduced me to the "homestar runner" cartoons on the Web about three or four years ago. I haven't looked it up in a while, but it's usually pretty amusing stuff, in a bizarre way.
I walked into the "old basement" in my parents' house, and found my wife by my dad's work bench. I said that I'd just seen something strange out in front of the house: an acorn-sized thing fell from the sky, followed by a booming voice-over that said, "The Simpsons -- Mostly Progressive." As if that wasn't odd enough, the voice was not that of a Simpsons character. It was the voice of Strong Bad, from homestarrunner.com.
*****
As far as I'm concerned, a little bit of "The Simpsons" goes a long way. I don't really want to spend a lot of my time watching a dumb guy who drinks a lot of beer.
Somebody introduced me to the "homestar runner" cartoons on the Web about three or four years ago. I haven't looked it up in a while, but it's usually pretty amusing stuff, in a bizarre way.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Enough Already / Ya Just Gotta Hear It
Friday night
Dream 1: Enough Already
My wife and I were staying at a hotel, along with my brother Andrew and his wife, Susan. We were in town for a family wedding. Drew has always been a kidder, and we used to "roughhouse" a bit, as my mom would say, but this time I just wanted to relax, and he simply would not leave me alone. We sat in chairs near the pool, and he was kicking me and pushing me, just fooling around. Finally, I'd had enough, and dove into the pool. Somehow, as I did so, Drew grabbed me by my feet, and held them. He wasn't trying to drown me or anything, just having a little more "fun."
Dream 2: Ya Just Gotta Hear It
I was talking with someone about Bruce Springsteen, and I was wearing a baseball jersey from the 1980-1981 world tour, featuring a drawing of the cover of "Born to Run." The person on the other end of the conversation was a fan, but mainly knew Springsteen's later work. I said, "If you like his stuff now, wait until you hear bootlegs of his 1978 tour. You won't believe it!"
*****
Dream 1: Enough Already
My wife and I recently watched "A Christmas Story," and I laughed whenever Ralphie and his brother Randy fought each other to leave a room or to get up the stairs. We did a lot of that in my house, but the problem is that my brother Andrew still thinks it's funny to kick me and block my path, and I'm over it at this point. I was visiting Andrew and Susan at their home in Richmond, VA about 10 years ago, and we took a tour of the Confederate White House. We held up the line because Andrew refused to walk up the stairs in front of me. Of course, I finally went up the stairs first, and he proceeded to kick me in the ass several times, only stopping when the guard gave him a stern warning. This was when he was a grown man, in his mid-30s, and he had not been drinking.
Dream 2: Ya Just Gotta Hear It
I like a lot of Springsteen's music, but there is something very special about his 1978 album, "Darkness on the Edge of Town," and the recordings of his accompanying tour. His shows at that time were particularly passionate, and Gordy, Ed and I bonded over our shared love of Springsteen's music from that period. We were teenagers when that record was released, and all these years later, it still moves us. Ya just gotta hear it.
Dream 1: Enough Already
My wife and I were staying at a hotel, along with my brother Andrew and his wife, Susan. We were in town for a family wedding. Drew has always been a kidder, and we used to "roughhouse" a bit, as my mom would say, but this time I just wanted to relax, and he simply would not leave me alone. We sat in chairs near the pool, and he was kicking me and pushing me, just fooling around. Finally, I'd had enough, and dove into the pool. Somehow, as I did so, Drew grabbed me by my feet, and held them. He wasn't trying to drown me or anything, just having a little more "fun."
Dream 2: Ya Just Gotta Hear It
I was talking with someone about Bruce Springsteen, and I was wearing a baseball jersey from the 1980-1981 world tour, featuring a drawing of the cover of "Born to Run." The person on the other end of the conversation was a fan, but mainly knew Springsteen's later work. I said, "If you like his stuff now, wait until you hear bootlegs of his 1978 tour. You won't believe it!"
*****
Dream 1: Enough Already
My wife and I recently watched "A Christmas Story," and I laughed whenever Ralphie and his brother Randy fought each other to leave a room or to get up the stairs. We did a lot of that in my house, but the problem is that my brother Andrew still thinks it's funny to kick me and block my path, and I'm over it at this point. I was visiting Andrew and Susan at their home in Richmond, VA about 10 years ago, and we took a tour of the Confederate White House. We held up the line because Andrew refused to walk up the stairs in front of me. Of course, I finally went up the stairs first, and he proceeded to kick me in the ass several times, only stopping when the guard gave him a stern warning. This was when he was a grown man, in his mid-30s, and he had not been drinking.
Dream 2: Ya Just Gotta Hear It
I like a lot of Springsteen's music, but there is something very special about his 1978 album, "Darkness on the Edge of Town," and the recordings of his accompanying tour. His shows at that time were particularly passionate, and Gordy, Ed and I bonded over our shared love of Springsteen's music from that period. We were teenagers when that record was released, and all these years later, it still moves us. Ya just gotta hear it.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Author
Tuesday night
My brother Andrew had just published his first book, a treatise on Constitutional law, and I asked him if I could see a copy. (The family was very excited and proud of him; it was going to be the real deal -- hardback cover and all.) He handed me a copy and I was shocked to see that he'd placed a 20-year-old photo of me on the cover. I was shown wearing aviator-style dark sunglasses, and had slightly longer hair than I do now. I was smiling in the picture because I'd gotten in a little legal trouble at the time, for being a jackass; I'd climbed atop a large statue and gotten busted for it. As I held the book in my hands I reminisced about the incident with Drew. I said, "I guess I deserved it." (I remembered putting my shoes on the statue's face as I scrambled to the top.)
I flipped through the black and white photos in the book, and came across a picture of Bill Clinton, Andrew and me. We'd run into the former president in a diner. He (Bill) was wearing a polo shirt and a baseball cap. I sat next to him, to his left, and Drew was next to me, standing and leaning on the end of the booth.
*****
None of the events in this dream ever happened. Well, I did have aviator frames 20 years ago, but the rest is bogus. My brother has been published thousands of times, but for newspaper articles, not books.
I never met Bill Clinton, but I've seen him twice. On the morning of his first inauguration, in January of 1993, the powers that be closed off I-66, so that he would be unencumbered while riding in a bus from Monticello in Charlottesville to D.C. Some friends and I went to the Vienna, VA Metro station, and stood in the enclosed bridge over the highway to see him pass by on the way downtown. It was strange and eerie, seeing no cars on what normally is such a busy road. After waiting for some time, we saw a cop on a motorcycle in the distance, heading our way. He was followed by several more bikes, and finally Bill's bus came through. He sat in the right front seat, and waved to us and the other folks who had come out to wish him well. I suppose I could say that I also saw him later that day at the inaugural at the Capitol, but we were so far away, I couldn't really see much. I heard him, though.
The only time I saw Clinton close-up was around 1998, when Andrew was invited to a press picnic on the south lawn of the White House, and he asked me to come along with him and my sister-in-law. It was a good time, except for the fact that is was such a hot summer day. There were free hot dogs and burgers, and ice cream, too. At one point the prez strolled out to greet people, and mingle with the families. He was wearing sort of a Hawaiian shirt; short sleeved, with no tie, of course. My first thought was, "He's a big man. He's about a head taller than everyone else." Later I got a blurry photo of him, and managed to get Drew in the frame. Bill was surrounded by chicks, of course.
My brother Andrew had just published his first book, a treatise on Constitutional law, and I asked him if I could see a copy. (The family was very excited and proud of him; it was going to be the real deal -- hardback cover and all.) He handed me a copy and I was shocked to see that he'd placed a 20-year-old photo of me on the cover. I was shown wearing aviator-style dark sunglasses, and had slightly longer hair than I do now. I was smiling in the picture because I'd gotten in a little legal trouble at the time, for being a jackass; I'd climbed atop a large statue and gotten busted for it. As I held the book in my hands I reminisced about the incident with Drew. I said, "I guess I deserved it." (I remembered putting my shoes on the statue's face as I scrambled to the top.)
I flipped through the black and white photos in the book, and came across a picture of Bill Clinton, Andrew and me. We'd run into the former president in a diner. He (Bill) was wearing a polo shirt and a baseball cap. I sat next to him, to his left, and Drew was next to me, standing and leaning on the end of the booth.
*****
None of the events in this dream ever happened. Well, I did have aviator frames 20 years ago, but the rest is bogus. My brother has been published thousands of times, but for newspaper articles, not books.
I never met Bill Clinton, but I've seen him twice. On the morning of his first inauguration, in January of 1993, the powers that be closed off I-66, so that he would be unencumbered while riding in a bus from Monticello in Charlottesville to D.C. Some friends and I went to the Vienna, VA Metro station, and stood in the enclosed bridge over the highway to see him pass by on the way downtown. It was strange and eerie, seeing no cars on what normally is such a busy road. After waiting for some time, we saw a cop on a motorcycle in the distance, heading our way. He was followed by several more bikes, and finally Bill's bus came through. He sat in the right front seat, and waved to us and the other folks who had come out to wish him well. I suppose I could say that I also saw him later that day at the inaugural at the Capitol, but we were so far away, I couldn't really see much. I heard him, though.
The only time I saw Clinton close-up was around 1998, when Andrew was invited to a press picnic on the south lawn of the White House, and he asked me to come along with him and my sister-in-law. It was a good time, except for the fact that is was such a hot summer day. There were free hot dogs and burgers, and ice cream, too. At one point the prez strolled out to greet people, and mingle with the families. He was wearing sort of a Hawaiian shirt; short sleeved, with no tie, of course. My first thought was, "He's a big man. He's about a head taller than everyone else." Later I got a blurry photo of him, and managed to get Drew in the frame. Bill was surrounded by chicks, of course.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Carried Away
Monday night
I was reading a blog written by a well-known book reviewer. He described a lovely British holiday that quickly went awry. It seems that he was reading an awful romance novel while staying in an old manor house, and it inspired him to pick up a dueling foil and get in a fight with two members of the staff -- one male, one female. When it was all over, all three of them were sitting on the floor, dazed and bloody; each had lost a nipple.
*****
This strange dream was no doubt inspired by one of the Star Trek episodes we watched the other day, called "The Naked Time." Sulu had become infected with a virus and suddenly he was running around the Enterprise with a foil, imagining that he was D'Artagnan.
I was reading a blog written by a well-known book reviewer. He described a lovely British holiday that quickly went awry. It seems that he was reading an awful romance novel while staying in an old manor house, and it inspired him to pick up a dueling foil and get in a fight with two members of the staff -- one male, one female. When it was all over, all three of them were sitting on the floor, dazed and bloody; each had lost a nipple.
*****
This strange dream was no doubt inspired by one of the Star Trek episodes we watched the other day, called "The Naked Time." Sulu had become infected with a virus and suddenly he was running around the Enterprise with a foil, imagining that he was D'Artagnan.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Canoe Trip / Reminiscing
Friday night
Dream 1: Canoe Trip
Jimmie and I decided that we'd take a trip in a canoe, and make a day of it. He sat in front and I sat in the back, and we paddled together down a river, for hours. Finally, we pulled over to the shore, walked up a bank, and went shopping. We'd been there for a while when I realized that it would be dark soon, and on our return trip we'd have to navigate among the rocks and whatnot without any lights. I found Jimmie and said, "Don't you think we'd better go?" He turned toward me and cocked his head to the side and said, "Oh... yeah." He hadn't given it much thought.
Dream 2: Reminiscing
Ed B. and I were flipping through his photo album. We came across a picture taken at one of Ed's parties; it showed Ed standing next to Andrew, who, for some reason, was wearing a ladies' wig. (The long, black hair hung down past his shoulders. That must have been some party.)
Ed kept flipping until he came across some photos of a vacation he'd taken to a historical site in Greece, or Rome. He was shown standing next to the base of a large, ancient, broken column. I was amazed to see it, because my wife and I had visited the same place on one of our vacations. I said, "That place was amazing, but did you go up the hill and see the site looking over the river? That was even better." Ed said, "Oh, yeah."
*****
Dream 1: Canoe Trip
The funny thing about this dream is that if Jimmie and I ever did plan a day's journey via canoe that would involve traveling back at night, he would probably have outfitted that canoe with some super duper remote-controlled halogen headlamps or something. He might over-plan, but would never, ever under-plan.
For some reason, lately I've been thinking about some of the things that I want to accomplish with the rest of my life. This is probably because the huge CD project that has occupied most of my waking moments for the past 9 years is coming to an end next Christmas. I'd like to learn to speak a foreign language well, but need to decide which one. I want to see England, Italy and the South of France, and would dearly love to return to Ireland. I'd like to learn to play the guitar. And someday, after I've paid off all credit card debt, I want to buy one of these beauties and while away my time on calm lakes and rivers with the wife:
http://www.merrimackcanoes.com
Dream 2: Reminiscing
I'm not sure where this dream came from, although I was talking with my coworker Eden the other day about foreign travels, and she mentioned that she'd been to Greece, and said it was beautiful there. Ed and I have spoken about his honeymoon trip to Italy; he and his wife had a marvelous time. The past few days my wife and I have watched two, or even three episodes of Star Trek season 1 per night, so the broken column may have appeared on one of those sets. It's a wonder that I'm not dreaming about the Enterprise or some hairy monster that wants to suck all of the salt out of my body.
Dream 1: Canoe Trip
Jimmie and I decided that we'd take a trip in a canoe, and make a day of it. He sat in front and I sat in the back, and we paddled together down a river, for hours. Finally, we pulled over to the shore, walked up a bank, and went shopping. We'd been there for a while when I realized that it would be dark soon, and on our return trip we'd have to navigate among the rocks and whatnot without any lights. I found Jimmie and said, "Don't you think we'd better go?" He turned toward me and cocked his head to the side and said, "Oh... yeah." He hadn't given it much thought.
Dream 2: Reminiscing
Ed B. and I were flipping through his photo album. We came across a picture taken at one of Ed's parties; it showed Ed standing next to Andrew, who, for some reason, was wearing a ladies' wig. (The long, black hair hung down past his shoulders. That must have been some party.)
Ed kept flipping until he came across some photos of a vacation he'd taken to a historical site in Greece, or Rome. He was shown standing next to the base of a large, ancient, broken column. I was amazed to see it, because my wife and I had visited the same place on one of our vacations. I said, "That place was amazing, but did you go up the hill and see the site looking over the river? That was even better." Ed said, "Oh, yeah."
*****
Dream 1: Canoe Trip
The funny thing about this dream is that if Jimmie and I ever did plan a day's journey via canoe that would involve traveling back at night, he would probably have outfitted that canoe with some super duper remote-controlled halogen headlamps or something. He might over-plan, but would never, ever under-plan.
For some reason, lately I've been thinking about some of the things that I want to accomplish with the rest of my life. This is probably because the huge CD project that has occupied most of my waking moments for the past 9 years is coming to an end next Christmas. I'd like to learn to speak a foreign language well, but need to decide which one. I want to see England, Italy and the South of France, and would dearly love to return to Ireland. I'd like to learn to play the guitar. And someday, after I've paid off all credit card debt, I want to buy one of these beauties and while away my time on calm lakes and rivers with the wife:
http://www.merrimackcanoes.com
Dream 2: Reminiscing
I'm not sure where this dream came from, although I was talking with my coworker Eden the other day about foreign travels, and she mentioned that she'd been to Greece, and said it was beautiful there. Ed and I have spoken about his honeymoon trip to Italy; he and his wife had a marvelous time. The past few days my wife and I have watched two, or even three episodes of Star Trek season 1 per night, so the broken column may have appeared on one of those sets. It's a wonder that I'm not dreaming about the Enterprise or some hairy monster that wants to suck all of the salt out of my body.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Hopes Crushed / Tall Trees
Tuesday night
Dream 1: Hopes Crushed
The media and the public had found out, after the fact, that Senator Obama, who had been on the cusp of victory in the Iowa caucuses, had walked to the edge of a forest overlooking the ocean, and hanged himself. He had been depressed, but few people knew it. Thankfully, there were no pictures of the event, but we all saw the site afterward, and there was a shared sense of sadness and tragedy. Senator Clinton's major roadblock to the presidential nomination was out of the way, and there was some question about how she would, or should react.
Dream 2: Tall Trees
I had walked into someone's very large yard to see two gigantic Christmas trees that they had recently installed, one next to the other. A few strands of lights had been strung on them, but it was daytime, so they were not lit. I noticed that some huge branches near the top of one of the trees had been sawed off in order to ease the process of getting it out of the forest, so it had a strange appearance; just a bunch of ugly tree limb stubs coming out from the trunk. I wanted a closer look at how the trees were able to stand on the lawn, without toppling over. They were so tall that I was able to walk around the base of each, in the space between the ground and the lowest branches. Some large logs were propped against their trunks, to hold them in place.
*****
Dream 1: Hopes Crushed
I saw a commercial for depression medicine on TV last night (the one about how it effects the whole family), and I have the new TIME magazine on my bedside table, featuring a cover story on Obama. I am getting caught up in the possibility that he might win in Iowa, and I'm getting excited about it, but I'm also worried about what his success might mean in regard to his personal safety. I'm not concerned that something might happen to him at his own hand, but rather, from the hand of some prejudiced jerk out there somewhere.
This dream seems to re-live the situation in 1968, just after RFK won the California primary. Hopes were dashed, and suddenly Humphrey's (and Nixon's) chief rival was gone. How would they react? How should they? I'm grateful that I wasn't old enough in the 1960s to grasp what was going on.
I hope I don't have another dream like this one for a long time.
Dream 2: Tall Trees
It's been a rough patch at work lately -- just a lot of complications and responsibilities, tied in with the holidays. I came in on Saturday to get some stuff done, and actually got sick from the pressure. I can't remember that happening to me before. I talked to my twin brother, and he said it's happened to him on occasion, because he internalizes stress. So, I think that the Christmas trees with the limbs lopped off signify that I'm trying to get in the spirit of the season, but I'm not in full "joy" mode yet; there's too much responsibility, too much on my mind. My Christmas spirit has a few of the branches lopped off right now.
Dream 1: Hopes Crushed
The media and the public had found out, after the fact, that Senator Obama, who had been on the cusp of victory in the Iowa caucuses, had walked to the edge of a forest overlooking the ocean, and hanged himself. He had been depressed, but few people knew it. Thankfully, there were no pictures of the event, but we all saw the site afterward, and there was a shared sense of sadness and tragedy. Senator Clinton's major roadblock to the presidential nomination was out of the way, and there was some question about how she would, or should react.
Dream 2: Tall Trees
I had walked into someone's very large yard to see two gigantic Christmas trees that they had recently installed, one next to the other. A few strands of lights had been strung on them, but it was daytime, so they were not lit. I noticed that some huge branches near the top of one of the trees had been sawed off in order to ease the process of getting it out of the forest, so it had a strange appearance; just a bunch of ugly tree limb stubs coming out from the trunk. I wanted a closer look at how the trees were able to stand on the lawn, without toppling over. They were so tall that I was able to walk around the base of each, in the space between the ground and the lowest branches. Some large logs were propped against their trunks, to hold them in place.
*****
Dream 1: Hopes Crushed
I saw a commercial for depression medicine on TV last night (the one about how it effects the whole family), and I have the new TIME magazine on my bedside table, featuring a cover story on Obama. I am getting caught up in the possibility that he might win in Iowa, and I'm getting excited about it, but I'm also worried about what his success might mean in regard to his personal safety. I'm not concerned that something might happen to him at his own hand, but rather, from the hand of some prejudiced jerk out there somewhere.
This dream seems to re-live the situation in 1968, just after RFK won the California primary. Hopes were dashed, and suddenly Humphrey's (and Nixon's) chief rival was gone. How would they react? How should they? I'm grateful that I wasn't old enough in the 1960s to grasp what was going on.
I hope I don't have another dream like this one for a long time.
Dream 2: Tall Trees
It's been a rough patch at work lately -- just a lot of complications and responsibilities, tied in with the holidays. I came in on Saturday to get some stuff done, and actually got sick from the pressure. I can't remember that happening to me before. I talked to my twin brother, and he said it's happened to him on occasion, because he internalizes stress. So, I think that the Christmas trees with the limbs lopped off signify that I'm trying to get in the spirit of the season, but I'm not in full "joy" mode yet; there's too much responsibility, too much on my mind. My Christmas spirit has a few of the branches lopped off right now.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Detente
Sunday night
Jeff D. was visiting with me in the basement playroom at 3374. We were sitting in a couple of chairs, facing each other, in the middle of the floor. There didn't seem to be any other furniture in the room. He was in a good mood, smiling, and acted somewhat sheepish and surprised that I'd been upset that we hadn't spoken in so long. He hadn't thought anything of it.
*****
Jeff and I haven't spoken since he stormed out of the poker tournament in the early hours of April 10, 2005. He and his family are back in Virginia now. Details of this spat can be found in the explanation beneath "Another Day, Another Theater," August 29, '07.
I wonder if we'll ever talk to each other again.
Jeff D. was visiting with me in the basement playroom at 3374. We were sitting in a couple of chairs, facing each other, in the middle of the floor. There didn't seem to be any other furniture in the room. He was in a good mood, smiling, and acted somewhat sheepish and surprised that I'd been upset that we hadn't spoken in so long. He hadn't thought anything of it.
*****
Jeff and I haven't spoken since he stormed out of the poker tournament in the early hours of April 10, 2005. He and his family are back in Virginia now. Details of this spat can be found in the explanation beneath "Another Day, Another Theater," August 29, '07.
I wonder if we'll ever talk to each other again.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Adult Art Class
Friday night
Habib, the best friend of my next-door neighbor here in Nashville, was taking an adult art class in Alexandria, VA, and he had invited me to be a spectator during his "final exam." He was going to debut an animated film that he'd created. An old friend of mine, Stuart R., was showing his own film in another room, and I hoped to see it, too, if I had time.
I drove over to the classroom on my lunch break, so I was still wearing my work clothes, including a tie. When I arrived, my brother Andrew met me there. He'd be watching Habib's film, too. I greeted Habib and thanked him for inviting me. He said, "Well, I liked your film, too." (Apparently I had taken part in a live-action film that he had seen before, possibly for the same class.) As his film began, I quickly fell under its spell. There were wondrous scenes of colorful animals and plants in the sea, all rendered in lifelike detail. I was particularly interested in his depiction of a large green sea turtle, one of my favorite animals. I said, "How long did it take you to do this?" He said, "About two years."
As interested as I was, the film was pretty long, and I started to fall asleep after awhile, curling up on the floor, near my brother.
*****
Habib is a very close friend of my next-door neighbor, Jack, and both of them are very talented artists, although I'm not aware of any animated films made by either of them.
The strange thing about this dream is that while it clearly was about Habib, the main character wasn't him; it was another, shorter Middle Eastern man that I knew some time ago. The maddening thing is that I can see him clearly even now, but can't remember his name, or the context. I particularly remember him being a pretty sly, cagey guy, and can see him smiling, with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Is he the guy who runs the cafeteria at my current job? Is he the guy who managed the gas station where our friend Ed M. worked in high school? Is he Mexican, the father of my childhood friend, Mark D.? Hopefully it will come to me later.
At the end of this dream, I was making fun of myself. No matter how great the DVDs are when we're watching at home, as soon as I stop moving, I fall asleep. I must be chronically sleep deprived, or something. Anyway, so it's funny that I nod off during films in my dreams, too.
*****
November Dream Roundup: More musicians and actors, plus a couple of politicians. I've listed the last time I've seen some of these people in parentheses, just for the heck of it.
Family & Friends:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brent L. (2006)
Dad
Denise P. (1997)
Ed B.
Gordon S.
Jeff V. (1999?)
Jim B.
Jimmie C.
Kevin W.
Kyle N.
Laura M.
Mom (1999)
"Sis" (Dad's sister; my aunt) (2001)
Stuart R. (2006)
Coworkers & Acquaintances:
Christy S.
Connie P. (1984)
Darrell B.
Dasha T.
Eden F.
Erik B.
Habib
Max C. (2000)
Sally C. (2006)
Shannon F.
Celebrities:
Belinda Carlisle (Her 45s were seen in "Collection")
Bob Dylan
The Cars (Their 45s were seen in "Collection")
Cher (She'd once dated the star of the show in "A Shot at Fame")
Danny & the Juniors (My kid & I twisted to their hit "At the Hop" in "The Eye in the Sky")
Don Henley (His son was interviewed in "Not My Thing")
The Eagles (Their new album was mentioned in "Not My Thing")
Gilbert Godfried (I compared Max C. to him in "A Shot at Fame")
The Go-Go's (Their 45s were seen in "Collection")
Hillary Clinton (Bob Dylan, Ed B. & I campaigned for her in "On the Trail")
Jackie Cooper (Starred in a DVD watched in "The Pharmacist's Daughter")
John Cleese
John Seigenthaler
John Travolta (His 45 was seen in "Collection")
Linda Hunt (Probably in her role as Billy Kwan)
Martha Stewart
Mick Jagger
Prince (Someone phoned to say he'd died in "The Call")
Roy Orbison (Mick Jagger mentioned him in "Airport Meetings")
Sally Field
Ted Kennedy
Habib, the best friend of my next-door neighbor here in Nashville, was taking an adult art class in Alexandria, VA, and he had invited me to be a spectator during his "final exam." He was going to debut an animated film that he'd created. An old friend of mine, Stuart R., was showing his own film in another room, and I hoped to see it, too, if I had time.
I drove over to the classroom on my lunch break, so I was still wearing my work clothes, including a tie. When I arrived, my brother Andrew met me there. He'd be watching Habib's film, too. I greeted Habib and thanked him for inviting me. He said, "Well, I liked your film, too." (Apparently I had taken part in a live-action film that he had seen before, possibly for the same class.) As his film began, I quickly fell under its spell. There were wondrous scenes of colorful animals and plants in the sea, all rendered in lifelike detail. I was particularly interested in his depiction of a large green sea turtle, one of my favorite animals. I said, "How long did it take you to do this?" He said, "About two years."
As interested as I was, the film was pretty long, and I started to fall asleep after awhile, curling up on the floor, near my brother.
*****
Habib is a very close friend of my next-door neighbor, Jack, and both of them are very talented artists, although I'm not aware of any animated films made by either of them.
The strange thing about this dream is that while it clearly was about Habib, the main character wasn't him; it was another, shorter Middle Eastern man that I knew some time ago. The maddening thing is that I can see him clearly even now, but can't remember his name, or the context. I particularly remember him being a pretty sly, cagey guy, and can see him smiling, with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Is he the guy who runs the cafeteria at my current job? Is he the guy who managed the gas station where our friend Ed M. worked in high school? Is he Mexican, the father of my childhood friend, Mark D.? Hopefully it will come to me later.
At the end of this dream, I was making fun of myself. No matter how great the DVDs are when we're watching at home, as soon as I stop moving, I fall asleep. I must be chronically sleep deprived, or something. Anyway, so it's funny that I nod off during films in my dreams, too.
*****
November Dream Roundup: More musicians and actors, plus a couple of politicians. I've listed the last time I've seen some of these people in parentheses, just for the heck of it.
Family & Friends:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brent L. (2006)
Dad
Denise P. (1997)
Ed B.
Gordon S.
Jeff V. (1999?)
Jim B.
Jimmie C.
Kevin W.
Kyle N.
Laura M.
Mom (1999)
"Sis" (Dad's sister; my aunt) (2001)
Stuart R. (2006)
Coworkers & Acquaintances:
Christy S.
Connie P. (1984)
Darrell B.
Dasha T.
Eden F.
Erik B.
Habib
Max C. (2000)
Sally C. (2006)
Shannon F.
Celebrities:
Belinda Carlisle (Her 45s were seen in "Collection")
Bob Dylan
The Cars (Their 45s were seen in "Collection")
Cher (She'd once dated the star of the show in "A Shot at Fame")
Danny & the Juniors (My kid & I twisted to their hit "At the Hop" in "The Eye in the Sky")
Don Henley (His son was interviewed in "Not My Thing")
The Eagles (Their new album was mentioned in "Not My Thing")
Gilbert Godfried (I compared Max C. to him in "A Shot at Fame")
The Go-Go's (Their 45s were seen in "Collection")
Hillary Clinton (Bob Dylan, Ed B. & I campaigned for her in "On the Trail")
Jackie Cooper (Starred in a DVD watched in "The Pharmacist's Daughter")
John Cleese
John Seigenthaler
John Travolta (His 45 was seen in "Collection")
Linda Hunt (Probably in her role as Billy Kwan)
Martha Stewart
Mick Jagger
Prince (Someone phoned to say he'd died in "The Call")
Roy Orbison (Mick Jagger mentioned him in "Airport Meetings")
Sally Field
Ted Kennedy
Divided Loyalities
Thursday night
I was the detective, or bounty hunter, this time, and I was back in Arlington, trying to track down a very large Samoan, or Hawaiian guy, who had a name as long as your arm. (I was aware of the name in the dream, but can't remember it.) While I was there, I had to figure out where I was going to spend the night. My friend, Jim B., had recently separated from his wife, and she was living in another house in the same neighborhood. Each had offered to let me stay at their place, so I had to choose.
*****
What is it with the detective stories in my dreams?
I later married Jim's ex-, and I'm still married to her now. I can't deny that there's complications and fallout involved when marrying the ex-wife of a friend. I'm glad that we're married, but there are some regrets, too. If only those two were never married, and she and I met at a party, or something...
I was the detective, or bounty hunter, this time, and I was back in Arlington, trying to track down a very large Samoan, or Hawaiian guy, who had a name as long as your arm. (I was aware of the name in the dream, but can't remember it.) While I was there, I had to figure out where I was going to spend the night. My friend, Jim B., had recently separated from his wife, and she was living in another house in the same neighborhood. Each had offered to let me stay at their place, so I had to choose.
*****
What is it with the detective stories in my dreams?
I later married Jim's ex-, and I'm still married to her now. I can't deny that there's complications and fallout involved when marrying the ex-wife of a friend. I'm glad that we're married, but there are some regrets, too. If only those two were never married, and she and I met at a party, or something...
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Helping the Detective / Secret Smile
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Helping the Detective
My wife was a detective, returning to the scene of a crime. A young woman was missing, and foul play was suspected. She (the detective) walked through the girl's bedroom, looking around, and put on one of the CDs that the (possible) victim owned. She sang along, out loud, while continuing to look at everything in the room. Just then, the camera seemed to pull back to reveal a sad sight: the body of the victim, fully clothed in a dark shirt and pants, and with her back to us, was stuffed between the mattress and the box spring of her bed. The tension was great, because "we" knew where the body was, but the detective hadn't found her yet. Finally, a hand broke through the pane of the dream from our perspective and pointed it out to the detective.
Dream 2: Secret Smile
I was walking through a room, from left to right. First, I passed my dad. Next, I passed Denise, who was sitting to my left. She was a teenager again, and smiled silently at me as I walked by. We had an understanding between us... we couldn't date now, but maybe years later...
*****
Dream 1: Helping the Detective
I do think of my wife as a detective sometimes. She misses nothing; especially something that obvious. In some ways, this dream reminds me of "The Silence of the Lambs," particularly the scene in which Clarice Starling returns to the victim's bedroom to learn more about her.
Dream 2: Secret Smile
I still haven't seen or spoken to D. in 20 years. She'll be 40 next May. Hard to believe.
I thought about not including these dreams in the blog today, for various reasons, but what the hell -- they are what they are. The dreams that I've had this month depicting violence toward women bother me. And the thing about Denise; I guess she's still in the back of my mind, along with the other characters.
Dream 1: Helping the Detective
My wife was a detective, returning to the scene of a crime. A young woman was missing, and foul play was suspected. She (the detective) walked through the girl's bedroom, looking around, and put on one of the CDs that the (possible) victim owned. She sang along, out loud, while continuing to look at everything in the room. Just then, the camera seemed to pull back to reveal a sad sight: the body of the victim, fully clothed in a dark shirt and pants, and with her back to us, was stuffed between the mattress and the box spring of her bed. The tension was great, because "we" knew where the body was, but the detective hadn't found her yet. Finally, a hand broke through the pane of the dream from our perspective and pointed it out to the detective.
Dream 2: Secret Smile
I was walking through a room, from left to right. First, I passed my dad. Next, I passed Denise, who was sitting to my left. She was a teenager again, and smiled silently at me as I walked by. We had an understanding between us... we couldn't date now, but maybe years later...
*****
Dream 1: Helping the Detective
I do think of my wife as a detective sometimes. She misses nothing; especially something that obvious. In some ways, this dream reminds me of "The Silence of the Lambs," particularly the scene in which Clarice Starling returns to the victim's bedroom to learn more about her.
Dream 2: Secret Smile
I still haven't seen or spoken to D. in 20 years. She'll be 40 next May. Hard to believe.
I thought about not including these dreams in the blog today, for various reasons, but what the hell -- they are what they are. The dreams that I've had this month depicting violence toward women bother me. And the thing about Denise; I guess she's still in the back of my mind, along with the other characters.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Making a Mess
Sunday night
I was upstairs at my parents' old house, preparing to paint a plaster wall in my one of the bedrooms. I was working with a compound, sort of a mound of primer, that I was planning to spread on the walls when the old paint was cleared away. It was white and fairly sticky, with the consistency of dough. As I scraped the old paint, the chips were falling all over, and soon I had quite a mess on my hands. I decided that the expedient thing to do would be to use the ball of primer to pick them up, or as a spot where I could stick the paint chips as I came across them, or as I pulled them from the wall. Of course, after a few minutes, I realized that I'd made a big junkball, and that it would be nearly impossible to spread the mixture on the wall later. I was standing there puzzling over what I had done when I heard the doorbell ring on the first floor. I walked downstairs, where my wife had opened the door and greeted John Seigenthaler, who had come by for a visit. They were sitting in the dining room when I got there. Mr. Seigenthaler rose from his chair when he saw me, and I said, "Hi John. I'd shake your hand, but... and showed him evidence of the paint and primer.
(At that moment I was awakened by the morning alarm.)
*****
John Seigenthaler is a pretty important guy in Nashville, and well respected. We've spoken once or twice, and he's been nice to me. He hosts a weekend show on the local PBS station called "A Word on Words." I saw one of his programs recently in which he interviewed author Bruce Barry, Professor of Management and Sociology at Vanderbilt University and president of the ACLU of Tennessee, about Barry's book "Speechless: The Erosion of Free Expression in the American Workplace." It was a very interesting show.
It seems to me that in almost every case, dreams are unique events; a mixture of sights, sounds and stories that will never occur exactly the same way again. That's why I'm always sad when one of my dreams is interrupted. I'll never know where it could have led.
By the way, I don't remember any peeling or chipping paint inside the folks' house. Mom wouldn't have put up with that.
I was upstairs at my parents' old house, preparing to paint a plaster wall in my one of the bedrooms. I was working with a compound, sort of a mound of primer, that I was planning to spread on the walls when the old paint was cleared away. It was white and fairly sticky, with the consistency of dough. As I scraped the old paint, the chips were falling all over, and soon I had quite a mess on my hands. I decided that the expedient thing to do would be to use the ball of primer to pick them up, or as a spot where I could stick the paint chips as I came across them, or as I pulled them from the wall. Of course, after a few minutes, I realized that I'd made a big junkball, and that it would be nearly impossible to spread the mixture on the wall later. I was standing there puzzling over what I had done when I heard the doorbell ring on the first floor. I walked downstairs, where my wife had opened the door and greeted John Seigenthaler, who had come by for a visit. They were sitting in the dining room when I got there. Mr. Seigenthaler rose from his chair when he saw me, and I said, "Hi John. I'd shake your hand, but... and showed him evidence of the paint and primer.
(At that moment I was awakened by the morning alarm.)
*****
John Seigenthaler is a pretty important guy in Nashville, and well respected. We've spoken once or twice, and he's been nice to me. He hosts a weekend show on the local PBS station called "A Word on Words." I saw one of his programs recently in which he interviewed author Bruce Barry, Professor of Management and Sociology at Vanderbilt University and president of the ACLU of Tennessee, about Barry's book "Speechless: The Erosion of Free Expression in the American Workplace." It was a very interesting show.
It seems to me that in almost every case, dreams are unique events; a mixture of sights, sounds and stories that will never occur exactly the same way again. That's why I'm always sad when one of my dreams is interrupted. I'll never know where it could have led.
By the way, I don't remember any peeling or chipping paint inside the folks' house. Mom wouldn't have put up with that.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Can I Get My Stuff Back?
Saturday night
I had recently moved into a new home, but many of my things remained at my old house, which had been bought by a young family with two small children. I went back there to retrieve some of my possessions, and found several of my stereo components in a new cabinet on the side porch, along with three full shelves of my L.P.'s. My speakers were out there, too, accompanied by a row of my books about rock and roll. The young wife found me there, staring at it all. She said, "Do you have to take them right now? It's such a great library, and my husband enjoys reading about the records while he listens to them."
I walked out into the backyard and found the large, red plastic tub that I used to store sports equipment. Some of my bats, balls and Frizbees were strewn about, so I began to gather them up. I stuck a few Wiffle bats into the tub, and the new owners' youngest boy popped his head up and grinned at me. He had been hiding in there.
I noticed that one of the pine trees in my old garden had died, so I decided to cut it down. But before I did that, at the very least, I could save some of the bark for the garden path. I got out my ax, and began chipping it away. Just then, one of the young woman's relatives walked out of the house, and came over to talk to me. It was Senator Ted Kennedy. He said, "I'm sorry about your tree, but I'm glad you're saving the bark for the mulch. We use it at our home down in Florider."
*****
Our nieces and nephews visited us here in Nashville for Thanksgiving, so I pulled our red plastic tub out of the shed, and we had sports equipment scattered all over the yard. Of course, those few days made every bit of work on the backyard worthwhile.
My wife and I watched "This Old House" and "Ask This Old House" on PBS yesterday afternoon. Many of the guys featured on those shows have thick Boston accents; I'm sure that's why I thought of Ted Kennedy. One of the segments of the second show featured a young family (with two children) who were spreading mulch in their backyard so that their kids would have a safe place to play. (There wasn't enough sunlight to get much grass to grow back there.)
The Kennedys owned a compound in Palm Beach, which, for a time, was known as "The Florida White House."
I had recently moved into a new home, but many of my things remained at my old house, which had been bought by a young family with two small children. I went back there to retrieve some of my possessions, and found several of my stereo components in a new cabinet on the side porch, along with three full shelves of my L.P.'s. My speakers were out there, too, accompanied by a row of my books about rock and roll. The young wife found me there, staring at it all. She said, "Do you have to take them right now? It's such a great library, and my husband enjoys reading about the records while he listens to them."
I walked out into the backyard and found the large, red plastic tub that I used to store sports equipment. Some of my bats, balls and Frizbees were strewn about, so I began to gather them up. I stuck a few Wiffle bats into the tub, and the new owners' youngest boy popped his head up and grinned at me. He had been hiding in there.
I noticed that one of the pine trees in my old garden had died, so I decided to cut it down. But before I did that, at the very least, I could save some of the bark for the garden path. I got out my ax, and began chipping it away. Just then, one of the young woman's relatives walked out of the house, and came over to talk to me. It was Senator Ted Kennedy. He said, "I'm sorry about your tree, but I'm glad you're saving the bark for the mulch. We use it at our home down in Florider."
*****
Our nieces and nephews visited us here in Nashville for Thanksgiving, so I pulled our red plastic tub out of the shed, and we had sports equipment scattered all over the yard. Of course, those few days made every bit of work on the backyard worthwhile.
My wife and I watched "This Old House" and "Ask This Old House" on PBS yesterday afternoon. Many of the guys featured on those shows have thick Boston accents; I'm sure that's why I thought of Ted Kennedy. One of the segments of the second show featured a young family (with two children) who were spreading mulch in their backyard so that their kids would have a safe place to play. (There wasn't enough sunlight to get much grass to grow back there.)
The Kennedys owned a compound in Palm Beach, which, for a time, was known as "The Florida White House."
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Border War
Friday night
I was one of three Confederates (or Confederate sympathizers) in a border state, such as Missouri or Kansas, and we were preparing for a battle. All three of us were wearing civilian shirts and pants; most likely, we were farmers. We had the higher ground, but the enemy was approaching from below, and we were hopelessly outnumbered. The leader of our group climbed a hill behind us to have a look around, and we scrambled after him. He walked to the edge of a town, looked around a bit, and came back with his instructions. Basically, we were to disperse in three different directions.
I was given an additional job, too. The commander asked me to go and buy him a fancy dress uniform. I said, "But how will I pay for it?" The other citizen-soldier said, "Here." That's when I noticed that he had a solid gold fingernail. He proceeded to trim the edge of it, and handed the clipping to me. He said that would be more than enough to cover the cost.
Even though I had escaped imminent danger, I still had to be wary in town. I'd have to be extra sure of the tailor's sympathies before asking him to do the job.
*****
I've recently decided to opt out of my employer's 401(K) plan, for various reasons, and will probably choose to go with a Roth IRA to "grow my money." In lieu of a golden fingernail, that is. I think that might be what this dream is about. I mentioned this theory to my wife a few minutes ago. She thought a moment and said, "That freaks me out, man. I don't like it."
I was one of three Confederates (or Confederate sympathizers) in a border state, such as Missouri or Kansas, and we were preparing for a battle. All three of us were wearing civilian shirts and pants; most likely, we were farmers. We had the higher ground, but the enemy was approaching from below, and we were hopelessly outnumbered. The leader of our group climbed a hill behind us to have a look around, and we scrambled after him. He walked to the edge of a town, looked around a bit, and came back with his instructions. Basically, we were to disperse in three different directions.
I was given an additional job, too. The commander asked me to go and buy him a fancy dress uniform. I said, "But how will I pay for it?" The other citizen-soldier said, "Here." That's when I noticed that he had a solid gold fingernail. He proceeded to trim the edge of it, and handed the clipping to me. He said that would be more than enough to cover the cost.
Even though I had escaped imminent danger, I still had to be wary in town. I'd have to be extra sure of the tailor's sympathies before asking him to do the job.
*****
I've recently decided to opt out of my employer's 401(K) plan, for various reasons, and will probably choose to go with a Roth IRA to "grow my money." In lieu of a golden fingernail, that is. I think that might be what this dream is about. I mentioned this theory to my wife a few minutes ago. She thought a moment and said, "That freaks me out, man. I don't like it."
Friday, November 23, 2007
Mail Bonding / A Shot at Fame
Thursday night
Dream 1: Mail Bonding
My brother Andrew was a reporter again, and I was visiting with him as he attempted to make arrangements for a forthcoming trip to China. He was trying to arrange passage of some type between two remote cities, and had hit upon the idea of hitching a ride between the two towns in a mail carrier's truck. I stood near him as he negotiated this plan with one of the Chinese Post Offices via telephone. The good news was that the manager of the post office spoke English, and seemed to be an American. The bad news was that he wasn't going for it, and Drew was getting pretty exasperated. The manager said, "We're not bonded for a trip like that." Andrew said, "I know that! I'm not either!"
Dream 2: A Shot at Fame
My wife and I had gone with a few friends to a large theme park, and decided to catch the variety show in a big outdoor amphitheater. We lucked into some pretty good seats, about three rows from the front, at stage left (to the right of the stage, from our perspective). I was wearing a canvas fisherman's cap; it was white on top, with a blue lip, and it had several breathing holes in it, surrounded by metal grommets. (It was probably pretty similar to the hat Gilligan wears on "Gilligan's Island," except for the blue color on the bottom portion, and the holes around the sides.) Anyway, on this day I had decided to unfold the hat and wear it so that it practically covered my eyes. I was wearing shades, too, to complete the look.
I must have looked pretty distinctive to the folks who ran the show, because one of their employees, an Asian man, spotted me from the stage, pointed at me, and said, "You! Do you want to be part of the show today?" I said, "OK," and climbed up there. He led me backstage, to prepare for my bit. I planned to make the most of it; I knew that the star of the show had dated Cher once upon a time, so I was going to startle him by getting in front of a mike and saying, "So, how are you and Cher getting along these days?" (I was snarky that way.)
It was a gigantic complex, just for the stage production, and it was easy to get turned around back there. I found myself wandering between several sound stages, trying to figure out where I should be. Finally, I came across three young producers, in matching black polo shirts. I asked them what I should do, and they led me to the makeup table, where two young women with black hair were going through the motions getting people ready. My makeup artist had black-rimmed glassed. The whole thing seemed exciting to me. I said, "Do you like your job?" She hesitated, then frowned, and shook her head. Someone walked by and called out, "50 minutes," meaning that I had that much time till my skit began. Just then, someone else joined us at the makeup table; Max C. had shown up to see if he could have his 15 minutes of fame, too. He wasn't chosen by the staff; he was filling out a "stand-by" form, on the off chance that he could be an extra. I said to no one, and everyone, "If Gilbert Godfried can be a successful comedian, so can Max!" Suddenly, Max leaped atop the table and shouted, "THAT'S RIGHT!"
*****
Dream 1: Mail Bonding
My brother Andrew was a reporter for a long time. He still works for a newspaper, but he's in management now. My dad worked on the government side of the U.S. Postal Service for about 25 years.
Dream 2: A Shot at Fame
I did indeed have that canvas hat, and liked it a lot. I think I got it during a beach vacation, years ago.
Max is an interesting guy that I knew at the foundation where I used to work, in Virginia. He was, and is, a radio reporter. He was always friendly to me. Nowadays he can still be heard reporting on D.C. government matters on National Public Radio. Sometimes we even hear his reports on Nashville's public radio station.
Dream 1: Mail Bonding
My brother Andrew was a reporter again, and I was visiting with him as he attempted to make arrangements for a forthcoming trip to China. He was trying to arrange passage of some type between two remote cities, and had hit upon the idea of hitching a ride between the two towns in a mail carrier's truck. I stood near him as he negotiated this plan with one of the Chinese Post Offices via telephone. The good news was that the manager of the post office spoke English, and seemed to be an American. The bad news was that he wasn't going for it, and Drew was getting pretty exasperated. The manager said, "We're not bonded for a trip like that." Andrew said, "I know that! I'm not either!"
Dream 2: A Shot at Fame
My wife and I had gone with a few friends to a large theme park, and decided to catch the variety show in a big outdoor amphitheater. We lucked into some pretty good seats, about three rows from the front, at stage left (to the right of the stage, from our perspective). I was wearing a canvas fisherman's cap; it was white on top, with a blue lip, and it had several breathing holes in it, surrounded by metal grommets. (It was probably pretty similar to the hat Gilligan wears on "Gilligan's Island," except for the blue color on the bottom portion, and the holes around the sides.) Anyway, on this day I had decided to unfold the hat and wear it so that it practically covered my eyes. I was wearing shades, too, to complete the look.
I must have looked pretty distinctive to the folks who ran the show, because one of their employees, an Asian man, spotted me from the stage, pointed at me, and said, "You! Do you want to be part of the show today?" I said, "OK," and climbed up there. He led me backstage, to prepare for my bit. I planned to make the most of it; I knew that the star of the show had dated Cher once upon a time, so I was going to startle him by getting in front of a mike and saying, "So, how are you and Cher getting along these days?" (I was snarky that way.)
It was a gigantic complex, just for the stage production, and it was easy to get turned around back there. I found myself wandering between several sound stages, trying to figure out where I should be. Finally, I came across three young producers, in matching black polo shirts. I asked them what I should do, and they led me to the makeup table, where two young women with black hair were going through the motions getting people ready. My makeup artist had black-rimmed glassed. The whole thing seemed exciting to me. I said, "Do you like your job?" She hesitated, then frowned, and shook her head. Someone walked by and called out, "50 minutes," meaning that I had that much time till my skit began. Just then, someone else joined us at the makeup table; Max C. had shown up to see if he could have his 15 minutes of fame, too. He wasn't chosen by the staff; he was filling out a "stand-by" form, on the off chance that he could be an extra. I said to no one, and everyone, "If Gilbert Godfried can be a successful comedian, so can Max!" Suddenly, Max leaped atop the table and shouted, "THAT'S RIGHT!"
*****
Dream 1: Mail Bonding
My brother Andrew was a reporter for a long time. He still works for a newspaper, but he's in management now. My dad worked on the government side of the U.S. Postal Service for about 25 years.
Dream 2: A Shot at Fame
I did indeed have that canvas hat, and liked it a lot. I think I got it during a beach vacation, years ago.
Max is an interesting guy that I knew at the foundation where I used to work, in Virginia. He was, and is, a radio reporter. He was always friendly to me. Nowadays he can still be heard reporting on D.C. government matters on National Public Radio. Sometimes we even hear his reports on Nashville's public radio station.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Good Luck, Dasha
Tuesday night
Dasha, the photographer in our department, was leaving, so she threw a big party at the townhouse that she shared with several other employees. The next morning, I was lying on the floor under a table. I hadn't been drinking, but had decided to leave some words of encouragement along her wall, just above the baseboard. These words would be left with a permanent Sharpie marker. I began to write, "Don't sell yourself short, or your work -- you can do things that a lot of other people can't do." Unfortunately, I ran out of room, and tried to continue my sentence on the carpet. I made a few mistakes, and was making some blobs on the rug with White Out when one of our fellow workers, Erik B., walked in, and opened a closet door. He didn't see me; he was looking for a tie to wear to work that morning. As soon as he left, another coworker, Darryl B., came in. He's a very tall guy. He didn't see me either. Unfortunately, he tripped over my feet and cursed.
*****
Today really is Dasha's last day here. She just walked through to make her final rounds, and I said, "Hey -- I had a dream about you last night!" She stepped back and said, "Well, that's a pretty creepy way to say goodbye!" She smiled, but she kinda meant it, too. I went on to describe the party, and she said, "Man, that's a detailed dream!" If she only knew about the really detailed ones. Anyway, mental note made: maybe it's not so cool to mention the dreams to the coworkers after all. Incidentally, the part about the townhouse is made up. I don't have any idea if she has a townhouse, roomates, etc.
I hate graffiti, but I would be remiss if I didn't own up to my penchant for signing the interior spaces of some of my former workplaces when I was about to quit. I used to work at a record store called Penguin Feather, in a building which at one time contained a bank. The manager's office was in the back room with the big safe. Just before I left, I stood on top of the desk and drew a very detailed logo for Bruce Springsteen's album "The River" at the top of one wall, and on part of the ceiling. Later, when I was leaving Crown Books, I inscribed part of lyrics of Springsteen's song "Ramrod" along the top of their back room wall, mainly to piss off my then-manager, Joe S.: "Say you'll be mine, little girl, I'll put my foot to the floor / Give me the word, now, Sugar, we'll go ramroddin' forever more..." Always liked that one.
Dasha, the photographer in our department, was leaving, so she threw a big party at the townhouse that she shared with several other employees. The next morning, I was lying on the floor under a table. I hadn't been drinking, but had decided to leave some words of encouragement along her wall, just above the baseboard. These words would be left with a permanent Sharpie marker. I began to write, "Don't sell yourself short, or your work -- you can do things that a lot of other people can't do." Unfortunately, I ran out of room, and tried to continue my sentence on the carpet. I made a few mistakes, and was making some blobs on the rug with White Out when one of our fellow workers, Erik B., walked in, and opened a closet door. He didn't see me; he was looking for a tie to wear to work that morning. As soon as he left, another coworker, Darryl B., came in. He's a very tall guy. He didn't see me either. Unfortunately, he tripped over my feet and cursed.
*****
Today really is Dasha's last day here. She just walked through to make her final rounds, and I said, "Hey -- I had a dream about you last night!" She stepped back and said, "Well, that's a pretty creepy way to say goodbye!" She smiled, but she kinda meant it, too. I went on to describe the party, and she said, "Man, that's a detailed dream!" If she only knew about the really detailed ones. Anyway, mental note made: maybe it's not so cool to mention the dreams to the coworkers after all. Incidentally, the part about the townhouse is made up. I don't have any idea if she has a townhouse, roomates, etc.
I hate graffiti, but I would be remiss if I didn't own up to my penchant for signing the interior spaces of some of my former workplaces when I was about to quit. I used to work at a record store called Penguin Feather, in a building which at one time contained a bank. The manager's office was in the back room with the big safe. Just before I left, I stood on top of the desk and drew a very detailed logo for Bruce Springsteen's album "The River" at the top of one wall, and on part of the ceiling. Later, when I was leaving Crown Books, I inscribed part of lyrics of Springsteen's song "Ramrod" along the top of their back room wall, mainly to piss off my then-manager, Joe S.: "Say you'll be mine, little girl, I'll put my foot to the floor / Give me the word, now, Sugar, we'll go ramroddin' forever more..." Always liked that one.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
The Pharmacist's Daughter
Monday night
Ed B. and I were visiting our friend Gordon at his parents' house. Gordy still lived there, so this dream probably took place about 20 years ago. The three of us were sitting in the kitchen, reminiscing about an acquaintance of ours that had recently died. She was a nice young woman, the daughter of Gordon's pharmacist. We had all liked her. I said to Gordy, "It's hard enough for me, but it's got to be particularly tough for you. You knew her a lot better than I did, and you still see her dad whenever you need to have a prescription filled."
Changing the mood (and the subject), I said, "Damn, I forgot to bring over that DVD I made for you." Gordon said, "That's O.K. Let's go upstairs and watch a movie. You can bring it over next time." We went up to Gordon's room, and sat on his bed. We climbed under the bedspread, as if it was a slumber party, and Gordy turned on the TV. As the movie began, he passed the DVD cover around. It was a 1930s flick featuring child star Jackie Cooper. I said, "I have two of his films in my collection at home, but I've never seen this one." I pulled the covers up to my chin and got ready to enjoy the show.
*****
I probably saw several Jackie Cooper movies on Sunday morning TV when I was a kid, but the one I remember most is "Treasure Island," from 1934.
I did see a movie in Gordy's room once -- it was The Beatles in "A Hard Day's Night." Ed was there. We sat on top of the covers.
Ed B. and I were visiting our friend Gordon at his parents' house. Gordy still lived there, so this dream probably took place about 20 years ago. The three of us were sitting in the kitchen, reminiscing about an acquaintance of ours that had recently died. She was a nice young woman, the daughter of Gordon's pharmacist. We had all liked her. I said to Gordy, "It's hard enough for me, but it's got to be particularly tough for you. You knew her a lot better than I did, and you still see her dad whenever you need to have a prescription filled."
Changing the mood (and the subject), I said, "Damn, I forgot to bring over that DVD I made for you." Gordon said, "That's O.K. Let's go upstairs and watch a movie. You can bring it over next time." We went up to Gordon's room, and sat on his bed. We climbed under the bedspread, as if it was a slumber party, and Gordy turned on the TV. As the movie began, he passed the DVD cover around. It was a 1930s flick featuring child star Jackie Cooper. I said, "I have two of his films in my collection at home, but I've never seen this one." I pulled the covers up to my chin and got ready to enjoy the show.
*****
I probably saw several Jackie Cooper movies on Sunday morning TV when I was a kid, but the one I remember most is "Treasure Island," from 1934.
I did see a movie in Gordy's room once -- it was The Beatles in "A Hard Day's Night." Ed was there. We sat on top of the covers.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Justice & Revenge
Monday night
I was a college student, and had heard that a member of a hated rival fraternity loaded with obnoxious rich kids was the last person seen with a young woman who had disappeared from campus. Somehow I had ended up possessing a receipt which, without a doubt, placed him at the last location where the woman had been seen.
I drove my van over to the suspect's fraternity house, turned off the engine, and waited. Before long, I was approached by a member of their group. He wasn't the guilty party, but he was a friend and protector, and I loathed him, as well. He leaned in my passenger's side window, found the receipt in the door pocket underneath, and grabbed it. He fixed me with a mean, satisfied gaze, said, "Sucker," and walked away, convinced that he'd put their little problem to rest. That's what I wanted them to think. Unbeknownst to them, I still had the yellow copy of the receipt, which I proceeded to drive to the police station.
*****
On one hand, this is a sort of an "Animal House"-style class struggle, with some "Law and Order" seriousness thrown in. But in a larger sense, I wonder if this dream is dredging up some anger at rich folks in this country who are "getting away with murder"?
The case of poor Natalee Holloway, the Alabama college graduate who disappeared in 2005, probably filtered in there, too.
I was a college student, and had heard that a member of a hated rival fraternity loaded with obnoxious rich kids was the last person seen with a young woman who had disappeared from campus. Somehow I had ended up possessing a receipt which, without a doubt, placed him at the last location where the woman had been seen.
I drove my van over to the suspect's fraternity house, turned off the engine, and waited. Before long, I was approached by a member of their group. He wasn't the guilty party, but he was a friend and protector, and I loathed him, as well. He leaned in my passenger's side window, found the receipt in the door pocket underneath, and grabbed it. He fixed me with a mean, satisfied gaze, said, "Sucker," and walked away, convinced that he'd put their little problem to rest. That's what I wanted them to think. Unbeknownst to them, I still had the yellow copy of the receipt, which I proceeded to drive to the police station.
*****
On one hand, this is a sort of an "Animal House"-style class struggle, with some "Law and Order" seriousness thrown in. But in a larger sense, I wonder if this dream is dredging up some anger at rich folks in this country who are "getting away with murder"?
The case of poor Natalee Holloway, the Alabama college graduate who disappeared in 2005, probably filtered in there, too.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
On the Trail
Saturday night
Bob Dylan, my friend Ed B. and I were riding around in a beat-up old station wagon, campaigning for Hillary Clinton. Dylan looked cadaverous. He wore a cowboy hat, and was sporting a pencil-thin mustache. I asked him how he became involved in the campaign. He said, "I was asked to help out with her oil initiative [earlier] and I was impressed by that."
We got to the site of the day's rally, and Ed went around and opened the back of the car, where we stored our gear. An old white sheet, or blanket, was laid out over the flat bed, and Ed noticed that it was crawling with beetles and other bugs. He frowned and said, "We're going to have to do something about this, or they're going to eat up everything."
*****
I watched a re-run of the Democratic presidential debate in Las Vegas a few nights ago on PBS, and have followed up with political commentary from news organizations on the Web.
Last night my wife and I were doing our Thanksgiving grocery shopping and I stopped by the magazine rack and flipped through the 40th anniversary issue of Rolling Stone. I was disappointed to see Bob Dylan, the bard himself (with cowboy hat and mustache), featured in a two-page advertisement for Cadillac. Does he really need the money?
Anyway, I thought of Ed when I got to the bean aisle, and marveled over the variety of styles of Bush's Baked Beans that were available. You had your original family recipe, BBQ style, spicy beans, beans with onion, Boston recipe, country style, beans cured with maple syrup and bacon...
Ed and I embarked on a wonderful camping trip to the Smokies many years ago, which has been mentioned before in this blog. Ed was a vegetarian that week, so he carted along a massive pot of beans which were "curing" down the entire length of Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway. I'm more of a legume fan now than I was then, but to be honest, I must say that while Ed has a way with rice, those had to be among the most tasteless beans ever cooked by humankind. Last night I was thinking, "If only those beans had had some some spices, some bbq sauce, or some onions..."
Bob Dylan, my friend Ed B. and I were riding around in a beat-up old station wagon, campaigning for Hillary Clinton. Dylan looked cadaverous. He wore a cowboy hat, and was sporting a pencil-thin mustache. I asked him how he became involved in the campaign. He said, "I was asked to help out with her oil initiative [earlier] and I was impressed by that."
We got to the site of the day's rally, and Ed went around and opened the back of the car, where we stored our gear. An old white sheet, or blanket, was laid out over the flat bed, and Ed noticed that it was crawling with beetles and other bugs. He frowned and said, "We're going to have to do something about this, or they're going to eat up everything."
*****
I watched a re-run of the Democratic presidential debate in Las Vegas a few nights ago on PBS, and have followed up with political commentary from news organizations on the Web.
Last night my wife and I were doing our Thanksgiving grocery shopping and I stopped by the magazine rack and flipped through the 40th anniversary issue of Rolling Stone. I was disappointed to see Bob Dylan, the bard himself (with cowboy hat and mustache), featured in a two-page advertisement for Cadillac. Does he really need the money?
Anyway, I thought of Ed when I got to the bean aisle, and marveled over the variety of styles of Bush's Baked Beans that were available. You had your original family recipe, BBQ style, spicy beans, beans with onion, Boston recipe, country style, beans cured with maple syrup and bacon...
Ed and I embarked on a wonderful camping trip to the Smokies many years ago, which has been mentioned before in this blog. Ed was a vegetarian that week, so he carted along a massive pot of beans which were "curing" down the entire length of Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway. I'm more of a legume fan now than I was then, but to be honest, I must say that while Ed has a way with rice, those had to be among the most tasteless beans ever cooked by humankind. Last night I was thinking, "If only those beans had had some some spices, some bbq sauce, or some onions..."
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Test
Friday night
Kevin W., a former post-doctoral fellow where my wife used to work, was a youngster again, about 17 or 18 years old. He was sitting in the corner of a classroom, taking an American citizenship test. Surprisingly, his hair was completely white.
*****
Kevin is in his 30s now, and he and his family live in Knoxville. He came through Nashville last weekend to see a concert, and we were supposed to hook up for dinner, but my wife had a cold, so we canceled. I thought of him again yesterday, however; Kevin is a huge Ohio State fan, and his family gave out buckeyes as favors at his wedding. Yesterday, one of my coworkers, apparently another huge fan of Ohio State, walked around with a tray of edible "buckeyes," made of dollops of peanut butter smothered in chocolate. They were sinfully good, but I had to have three of them to make sure.
Anyway, Kevin's hair is black, but is rapidly going prematurely gray. The strange conceit of this dream is that it supposedly reveals that he started out with white hair, which gradually became streaked with black.
Kevin was born in Ohio, by the way, and has never needed to take a citizenship test.
Kevin W., a former post-doctoral fellow where my wife used to work, was a youngster again, about 17 or 18 years old. He was sitting in the corner of a classroom, taking an American citizenship test. Surprisingly, his hair was completely white.
*****
Kevin is in his 30s now, and he and his family live in Knoxville. He came through Nashville last weekend to see a concert, and we were supposed to hook up for dinner, but my wife had a cold, so we canceled. I thought of him again yesterday, however; Kevin is a huge Ohio State fan, and his family gave out buckeyes as favors at his wedding. Yesterday, one of my coworkers, apparently another huge fan of Ohio State, walked around with a tray of edible "buckeyes," made of dollops of peanut butter smothered in chocolate. They were sinfully good, but I had to have three of them to make sure.
Anyway, Kevin's hair is black, but is rapidly going prematurely gray. The strange conceit of this dream is that it supposedly reveals that he started out with white hair, which gradually became streaked with black.
Kevin was born in Ohio, by the way, and has never needed to take a citizenship test.
Commercial / Not My Thing
Thursday night
Dream 1: Commercial
My employer(s) decided that they needed to make a TV commercial to reach the younger audience, so they enlisted the help of some of the 20-somethings at work to plan it, and appear in the spot. Christy S. and Eden F., among others, were filmed out in the woods with their Jeeps parked nearby, taking part in some hip, off-road youngster party.
Dream 2: Not My Thing
The Eagles had a new album out, so one enterprising reporter decided to track down singer Don Henley's son and ask him what he thought of it. The son said, "To be honest, I never really got [understood] my dad's music."
*****
Dream 1: Commercial
This dream reminds me of those cigarette ads that I used to see in magazines, in which beautiful people were shown having a blast at the seashore, on a sailboat, in a hot rod, making a snowman, etc., while wielding (unlit) cigarettes in their hands. I'd think to myself, That does look like fun... but what do the cigs have to do with any of it?" I suppose that the purpose of those ads has always been for the subjects' glamour and joie de vivre to rub off on the product being sold, however unlikely the situation, and that's what was going on in last night's dream.
Christy and Eden are both nice people. I don't know if they own Jeeps or not.
Dream 2:
The Eagles just released their first new studio album in 28 years, and the thing has reportedly already sold 3 million copies worldwide. Don Henley and his cohorts have given a few press interviews lately, saying that this CD might be their swan song, and that it serves as a present/message to their children, most obviously on the last song on the double album, "It's Your World Now." That's probably why I dreamed of Henley's kid. I have no idea how many kids he has, or if they are boys or girls.
Do any kids really like their dad's music, or vice versa?
Dream 1: Commercial
My employer(s) decided that they needed to make a TV commercial to reach the younger audience, so they enlisted the help of some of the 20-somethings at work to plan it, and appear in the spot. Christy S. and Eden F., among others, were filmed out in the woods with their Jeeps parked nearby, taking part in some hip, off-road youngster party.
Dream 2: Not My Thing
The Eagles had a new album out, so one enterprising reporter decided to track down singer Don Henley's son and ask him what he thought of it. The son said, "To be honest, I never really got [understood] my dad's music."
*****
Dream 1: Commercial
This dream reminds me of those cigarette ads that I used to see in magazines, in which beautiful people were shown having a blast at the seashore, on a sailboat, in a hot rod, making a snowman, etc., while wielding (unlit) cigarettes in their hands. I'd think to myself, That does look like fun... but what do the cigs have to do with any of it?" I suppose that the purpose of those ads has always been for the subjects' glamour and joie de vivre to rub off on the product being sold, however unlikely the situation, and that's what was going on in last night's dream.
Christy and Eden are both nice people. I don't know if they own Jeeps or not.
Dream 2:
The Eagles just released their first new studio album in 28 years, and the thing has reportedly already sold 3 million copies worldwide. Don Henley and his cohorts have given a few press interviews lately, saying that this CD might be their swan song, and that it serves as a present/message to their children, most obviously on the last song on the double album, "It's Your World Now." That's probably why I dreamed of Henley's kid. I have no idea how many kids he has, or if they are boys or girls.
Do any kids really like their dad's music, or vice versa?
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Mask
Wednesday night
It was almost Halloween, and I'd decided that I'd thrill the trick or treaters by dressing up as the wolf man. I put on my hairy gloves and went over to the local party store to put the finishing touches on my costume. When I got there I found a rubber wolf man mask that used electricity (batteries?) to make the mouth move. As it did, it broadcast pre-recorded scary sayings in a loud, deep voice.
*****
I did dress up as the wolf man for Halloween this year, and I did have the hairy gloves, but no mask. Instead, I opted for makeup; I colored in a black dog's nose and drew up some scary arched eyebrows. I also had some pointed white rubber fangs, but they didn't stay in too well. For a few minutes, I thought about using Fixodent or some denture adhesive, but I was afraid that they'd never come off. The ensemble was topped off with a sort of a pompadour wig, which, unfortunately, was black, when it should have been brown. I looked in the mirror and said, "I look like a deranged Tony Orlando."
The party stores at the mall and the Halloween shelves at Target were filled with expensive, moving, talking gadgets this year, but I tend to shy away from the gimmicky stuff, which seems to be dated fairly quickly. I prefer simpler, home-made Halloween decorations.
It was almost Halloween, and I'd decided that I'd thrill the trick or treaters by dressing up as the wolf man. I put on my hairy gloves and went over to the local party store to put the finishing touches on my costume. When I got there I found a rubber wolf man mask that used electricity (batteries?) to make the mouth move. As it did, it broadcast pre-recorded scary sayings in a loud, deep voice.
*****
I did dress up as the wolf man for Halloween this year, and I did have the hairy gloves, but no mask. Instead, I opted for makeup; I colored in a black dog's nose and drew up some scary arched eyebrows. I also had some pointed white rubber fangs, but they didn't stay in too well. For a few minutes, I thought about using Fixodent or some denture adhesive, but I was afraid that they'd never come off. The ensemble was topped off with a sort of a pompadour wig, which, unfortunately, was black, when it should have been brown. I looked in the mirror and said, "I look like a deranged Tony Orlando."
The party stores at the mall and the Halloween shelves at Target were filled with expensive, moving, talking gadgets this year, but I tend to shy away from the gimmicky stuff, which seems to be dated fairly quickly. I prefer simpler, home-made Halloween decorations.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Eye in the Sky
Monday night
I took off in a sprint across the prairie, put my arms out, and soon I was soaring like a hawk. I could feel the thermal winds in my fingers, and could bank and swoop with the slightest adjustments.
Although I was having a great deal of fun, this wasn't just a pleasure cruise; I was on a mission. After a while I arrived at my destination. I pulled my arms in and landed with my feet in a branch of a tall tree next to a rustic cabin. (Some birds in the tree were startled by my arrival, and got out of the way.) Some Indian (Native American) men were milling about outside, and I had to remain hidden; they might shoot me if they saw me. They were dressed in a mixture of styles; their shirts and pants were made by whites, but they also wore bandanas and jewelery.
I wasn't there to see the Indians, however. I had come to see a baby Caucasian boy who was being kept inside. I flew by periodically to check on him, to see that he was all right.
Some time later, when the boy was about 2 years old, I had somehow arranged to get him out of the shack; presumably, I had adopted him. At the end of the dream the kid was sitting on a bench outside the general store, and he was wearing a bright white sweater. I was standing next to him, and we were waiting for the stagecoach that would take us to our new life together. In the meantime, I had my portable boom box with me, so I hit the play button, and he and I did the Twist to "At the Hop" by Danny and the Juniors.
*****
I was flipping through a magazine the other day, and noticed a photo of a room that contained a cardboard cutout of John Wayne. Last night I may have been thinking of his film "The Searchers," in which Wayne's character and some others chase after some Comanches who may have kidnapped his niece after a raid that killed her family.
I took off in a sprint across the prairie, put my arms out, and soon I was soaring like a hawk. I could feel the thermal winds in my fingers, and could bank and swoop with the slightest adjustments.
Although I was having a great deal of fun, this wasn't just a pleasure cruise; I was on a mission. After a while I arrived at my destination. I pulled my arms in and landed with my feet in a branch of a tall tree next to a rustic cabin. (Some birds in the tree were startled by my arrival, and got out of the way.) Some Indian (Native American) men were milling about outside, and I had to remain hidden; they might shoot me if they saw me. They were dressed in a mixture of styles; their shirts and pants were made by whites, but they also wore bandanas and jewelery.
I wasn't there to see the Indians, however. I had come to see a baby Caucasian boy who was being kept inside. I flew by periodically to check on him, to see that he was all right.
Some time later, when the boy was about 2 years old, I had somehow arranged to get him out of the shack; presumably, I had adopted him. At the end of the dream the kid was sitting on a bench outside the general store, and he was wearing a bright white sweater. I was standing next to him, and we were waiting for the stagecoach that would take us to our new life together. In the meantime, I had my portable boom box with me, so I hit the play button, and he and I did the Twist to "At the Hop" by Danny and the Juniors.
*****
I was flipping through a magazine the other day, and noticed a photo of a room that contained a cardboard cutout of John Wayne. Last night I may have been thinking of his film "The Searchers," in which Wayne's character and some others chase after some Comanches who may have kidnapped his niece after a raid that killed her family.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Train Time Warp/Circles/Shopping/Collection
Saturday night
Dream 1: Train Time Warp
I was traveling with my brother Jimmie and an older woman with black hair. She was short; we're talking Toulouse-Lautrec stature. We were walking through a dark train station which seemed to double as some sort of a historical museum. At one point Jimmie broke off to the left and walked into a tunnel. Nonplussed, I said, "I'll see you in South America," meaning that I'd rendezvous with him there. A few minutes later I'd walked out ahead of the small woman, and I heard her scream my name. I turned around to see her grabbed by guards; a wall was closing them off. She called out, "I've been arrested by the United States in 1914!" and then she was gone.
Dream 2: Circles
My wife and I were walking around in a large scientific lab with another guy, who I presume was her boss -- I had never met him. I was tasked with discovering the difference between a circle and a sphere. I thought, "Maybe one is 2-D and one is 3-D; or maybe one of them isn't exactly round, but might have some corners if you look closely."
Dream 3: Shopping
My old high school friend, Jeff V., and I were excited about going to a large record store in an old, early 20th-century building. We'd never been there before. The stock was huge, but still somewhat disappointing. I didn't find any of the imports or new wave records that really set a cool record store apart from the ordinary, run-of-the-mill variety. We had meandered through the store to the exit on the other side when we came across some organs and pianos. I said, "So, this is where all the instruments are." I asked Jeff if he found what he wanted; he said no. The place wasn't all it was cracked up to be, so we left, looking for something to eat.
Dream 4: Collection
Shannon F., one of the managers at my current job, was visiting me at my parents' house. We were sitting on the floor of the basement playroom. I said, "Do you like 80s music?" She said that she did, so I said, "Well, have a look at this." I took a key from my pocket and unlocked a wooden cabinet along the wall. I opened the door to reveal many neat horizontal stacks of 45 r.p.m. singles, most with interesting paper or cardboard covers, stored immaculately in clear sleeves. She said, "Do you have the software to play these?" I said, "I have a record player."
We took a few stacks out of the cabinet, laid them on the floor, and began looking through them. Many of the 45s were from the 80s. There were a few singles by The Go-Go's, solo singles from Belinda Carlisle, and a nifty British picture disc single by The Cars, from 1979. Then Shannon picked up a 45 that stopped her in her tracks. She squinched her face and said, "John Travolta?!"
*****
Dream 1: Train Time Warp
The spooky train station in this dream is eerily similar to the one in a dream I titled "Panic" (8/19/07). In fact, this may be a recurring dream. Interestingly enough, I was walking ahead of someone else in that dream, too, who also disappeared. Strange.
I think the older woman in this dream may have been actress Linda Hunt in her role as Billy Kwan in "The Year of Living Dangerously," from 1982. Her comments about being arrested "in 1914" are pretty bizarre, even for one of my dreams. I don't know what that's about, but I may have been thinking about recent reports I've seen on public television about the U.S.'s policy of "extraordinary rendition." The American guards were definitely thugs in this dream.
Dream 3: Shopping
The local F.Y.E. store here in Nashville, formerly Tower Records, is located in a large 1920s building with a nice gray facade. I think it was originally a utility building, maybe an electric company. Jeff V. was a very close friend in high school. We visited many record shops in our day. Denise is his sister (see the dream "D.," 7/6/07).
Dream 4: Collection
We had one of those large all-hands meetings at work the other day, and someone was loosening up the group by asking musical trivia questions. I won a giant candy bar for being the only one who knew Paul McCartney's first name (James). Later, I was standing near Shannon when someone said, "I wished they'd asked more questions about the 1980s."
I did keep my beloved collection of picture sleeve singles in a wooden cabinet, but it had no doors, and wasn't locked. It's strange that the singles were stacked horizontally in the dream; I would never have done that; the records would have warped. My singles were stacked neatly in vertical rows, gently leaning against each other. I did own the Go-Go's and Cars singles in the dream, but while I bought one or two Belinda Carlisle 45s, the ones in the dream were made up. And no, I never bought a single by John Travota.
I got rid of my 45s when I finally made the jump from vinyl to CD. Some days I wish I still had them, but I wasn't playing them anymore, and it became sort of a storage problem, just like my photo albums (and everything else). I did love collecting them, though, and love them still.
Dream 1: Train Time Warp
I was traveling with my brother Jimmie and an older woman with black hair. She was short; we're talking Toulouse-Lautrec stature. We were walking through a dark train station which seemed to double as some sort of a historical museum. At one point Jimmie broke off to the left and walked into a tunnel. Nonplussed, I said, "I'll see you in South America," meaning that I'd rendezvous with him there. A few minutes later I'd walked out ahead of the small woman, and I heard her scream my name. I turned around to see her grabbed by guards; a wall was closing them off. She called out, "I've been arrested by the United States in 1914!" and then she was gone.
Dream 2: Circles
My wife and I were walking around in a large scientific lab with another guy, who I presume was her boss -- I had never met him. I was tasked with discovering the difference between a circle and a sphere. I thought, "Maybe one is 2-D and one is 3-D; or maybe one of them isn't exactly round, but might have some corners if you look closely."
Dream 3: Shopping
My old high school friend, Jeff V., and I were excited about going to a large record store in an old, early 20th-century building. We'd never been there before. The stock was huge, but still somewhat disappointing. I didn't find any of the imports or new wave records that really set a cool record store apart from the ordinary, run-of-the-mill variety. We had meandered through the store to the exit on the other side when we came across some organs and pianos. I said, "So, this is where all the instruments are." I asked Jeff if he found what he wanted; he said no. The place wasn't all it was cracked up to be, so we left, looking for something to eat.
Dream 4: Collection
Shannon F., one of the managers at my current job, was visiting me at my parents' house. We were sitting on the floor of the basement playroom. I said, "Do you like 80s music?" She said that she did, so I said, "Well, have a look at this." I took a key from my pocket and unlocked a wooden cabinet along the wall. I opened the door to reveal many neat horizontal stacks of 45 r.p.m. singles, most with interesting paper or cardboard covers, stored immaculately in clear sleeves. She said, "Do you have the software to play these?" I said, "I have a record player."
We took a few stacks out of the cabinet, laid them on the floor, and began looking through them. Many of the 45s were from the 80s. There were a few singles by The Go-Go's, solo singles from Belinda Carlisle, and a nifty British picture disc single by The Cars, from 1979. Then Shannon picked up a 45 that stopped her in her tracks. She squinched her face and said, "John Travolta?!"
*****
Dream 1: Train Time Warp
The spooky train station in this dream is eerily similar to the one in a dream I titled "Panic" (8/19/07). In fact, this may be a recurring dream. Interestingly enough, I was walking ahead of someone else in that dream, too, who also disappeared. Strange.
I think the older woman in this dream may have been actress Linda Hunt in her role as Billy Kwan in "The Year of Living Dangerously," from 1982. Her comments about being arrested "in 1914" are pretty bizarre, even for one of my dreams. I don't know what that's about, but I may have been thinking about recent reports I've seen on public television about the U.S.'s policy of "extraordinary rendition." The American guards were definitely thugs in this dream.
Dream 3: Shopping
The local F.Y.E. store here in Nashville, formerly Tower Records, is located in a large 1920s building with a nice gray facade. I think it was originally a utility building, maybe an electric company. Jeff V. was a very close friend in high school. We visited many record shops in our day. Denise is his sister (see the dream "D.," 7/6/07).
Dream 4: Collection
We had one of those large all-hands meetings at work the other day, and someone was loosening up the group by asking musical trivia questions. I won a giant candy bar for being the only one who knew Paul McCartney's first name (James). Later, I was standing near Shannon when someone said, "I wished they'd asked more questions about the 1980s."
I did keep my beloved collection of picture sleeve singles in a wooden cabinet, but it had no doors, and wasn't locked. It's strange that the singles were stacked horizontally in the dream; I would never have done that; the records would have warped. My singles were stacked neatly in vertical rows, gently leaning against each other. I did own the Go-Go's and Cars singles in the dream, but while I bought one or two Belinda Carlisle 45s, the ones in the dream were made up. And no, I never bought a single by John Travota.
I got rid of my 45s when I finally made the jump from vinyl to CD. Some days I wish I still had them, but I wasn't playing them anymore, and it became sort of a storage problem, just like my photo albums (and everything else). I did love collecting them, though, and love them still.
Friday, November 9, 2007
I Want What I Want
Thursday night
I was looking for shoes, and I was all business. I walked into a shop and a tall, thin, older gentleman asked if he could help me. I said, "I'm looking for Chuck Taylor high-tops, but I want them with a stronger, more reinforced sole." The man led to me to his display of tennis shoes. The selection was limited, amounting to a few pairs of regular Converse shoes in blue, gray and black. He said, "The kids aren't wearing the high-tops these days." I frowned; this was not what I wanted to hear. The salesman stood by good-naturedly, seemingly amused that I could get so worked up over a pair of Chucks. I left by the side door so I wouldn't have to talk with him again.
*******
Despite my actions in this dream, I tend to be a slow-moving, contemplative person, and hate being rushed. I enjoy going to the mall and spending hours just bopping about. (Sometimes I tell my wife I'm going out to do "the bear thing." She knows that I mean that I'm going to wander about blissfully until something grabs my attention, as the bears do. That's my idea of a no-stress afternoon.) So, shopping doesn't bother me; constraints on my time bother the hell out of me.
Having said all that, I must admit that I hate it when I do have my mind set on something and find that the store is out of stock, so I have to go elsewhere, or wait. Of course, it makes me uptight because I'm usually crunched for time. If I don't have to worry about the tyranny of the clock, then I don't mind so much driving to another store. "Slow down, you move too fast / You got to make the morning last..."
I wore Converse Chuck Taylor high tops when I was a kid, and started wearing them again in the 1980s, only stopping when someone convinced me that they didn't offer enough support. That explains this dream; I still love the things, I only want an improved version.
I have had some luck while shoe shopping lately. I was shivering from the cold last weekend, so I went over to Macy's and found a very comfy pair of Gold Toe premier suede slippers with real shearling padding, or somesuch. I put those things on the second I arrive at home each night. As for work shoes, I've decided that I don't want to deal with laces anymore. (That way, they're easier to kick off.) I'm wearing a pair of slip-on shoes made by a company called Sandro. They are made of distressed-looking brown leather, and feature a "comfort gel" sole. They are mighty comfortable for work shoes, although I don't know if they are in keeping with the latest styles. To me, they look like something Joe Namath would have worn, circa 1973.
I was looking for shoes, and I was all business. I walked into a shop and a tall, thin, older gentleman asked if he could help me. I said, "I'm looking for Chuck Taylor high-tops, but I want them with a stronger, more reinforced sole." The man led to me to his display of tennis shoes. The selection was limited, amounting to a few pairs of regular Converse shoes in blue, gray and black. He said, "The kids aren't wearing the high-tops these days." I frowned; this was not what I wanted to hear. The salesman stood by good-naturedly, seemingly amused that I could get so worked up over a pair of Chucks. I left by the side door so I wouldn't have to talk with him again.
*******
Despite my actions in this dream, I tend to be a slow-moving, contemplative person, and hate being rushed. I enjoy going to the mall and spending hours just bopping about. (Sometimes I tell my wife I'm going out to do "the bear thing." She knows that I mean that I'm going to wander about blissfully until something grabs my attention, as the bears do. That's my idea of a no-stress afternoon.) So, shopping doesn't bother me; constraints on my time bother the hell out of me.
Having said all that, I must admit that I hate it when I do have my mind set on something and find that the store is out of stock, so I have to go elsewhere, or wait. Of course, it makes me uptight because I'm usually crunched for time. If I don't have to worry about the tyranny of the clock, then I don't mind so much driving to another store. "Slow down, you move too fast / You got to make the morning last..."
I wore Converse Chuck Taylor high tops when I was a kid, and started wearing them again in the 1980s, only stopping when someone convinced me that they didn't offer enough support. That explains this dream; I still love the things, I only want an improved version.
I have had some luck while shoe shopping lately. I was shivering from the cold last weekend, so I went over to Macy's and found a very comfy pair of Gold Toe premier suede slippers with real shearling padding, or somesuch. I put those things on the second I arrive at home each night. As for work shoes, I've decided that I don't want to deal with laces anymore. (That way, they're easier to kick off.) I'm wearing a pair of slip-on shoes made by a company called Sandro. They are made of distressed-looking brown leather, and feature a "comfort gel" sole. They are mighty comfortable for work shoes, although I don't know if they are in keeping with the latest styles. To me, they look like something Joe Namath would have worn, circa 1973.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
The Hapless Chef / Gumshoe
Wednesday night
Dream 1: The Hapless Chef
It was sometime in the late 1990s, and I was back on Dinwiddie Street, trying to prepare a nice dinner for my family. I had planned to serve the meal at a round table in the basement playroom, but things were not going well. For some reason I was standing next to the table, holding a gray metal piece of the grill from the bottom of the stove, and it was burning. Suddenly it was too hot to touch, so, not knowing what to do, I set it down on the table, and planned to race upstairs to get some potholders. I got to the bottom of the stairway, only to see my dad headed my way, with a plate in his hand. He was having difficulty walking, so he was moving slowly. He got halfway down the stairs and remembered that he'd forgotten something in the kitchen, and slowly turned around to walk back up there. The whole time I was blocked, of course, and worried that I'd burn the house down.
Dream 2: Gumshoe
It was nighttime in New York City, and a private detective was milling about behind someone's home. He was frustrated, as he "still hadn't found what [he was] looking for." He said, "9 million houses in the city, and I gotta pick the one without a trashcan."
*****
Stress and frustration permeate these dreams, no doubt brought on by my experiences at work. Holiday time is a pretty busy period for our business.
Dream 2: Gumshoe
I used to have this conversation with my brother Jimmie: CPC: There should be a clock, a phone and a trash can on every corner." Jimmie: "But if you have a trash can on every corner, you have to pay enough people to empty all of those trash cans."
Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I still want them.
Dream 1: The Hapless Chef
It was sometime in the late 1990s, and I was back on Dinwiddie Street, trying to prepare a nice dinner for my family. I had planned to serve the meal at a round table in the basement playroom, but things were not going well. For some reason I was standing next to the table, holding a gray metal piece of the grill from the bottom of the stove, and it was burning. Suddenly it was too hot to touch, so, not knowing what to do, I set it down on the table, and planned to race upstairs to get some potholders. I got to the bottom of the stairway, only to see my dad headed my way, with a plate in his hand. He was having difficulty walking, so he was moving slowly. He got halfway down the stairs and remembered that he'd forgotten something in the kitchen, and slowly turned around to walk back up there. The whole time I was blocked, of course, and worried that I'd burn the house down.
Dream 2: Gumshoe
It was nighttime in New York City, and a private detective was milling about behind someone's home. He was frustrated, as he "still hadn't found what [he was] looking for." He said, "9 million houses in the city, and I gotta pick the one without a trashcan."
*****
Stress and frustration permeate these dreams, no doubt brought on by my experiences at work. Holiday time is a pretty busy period for our business.
Dream 2: Gumshoe
I used to have this conversation with my brother Jimmie: CPC: There should be a clock, a phone and a trash can on every corner." Jimmie: "But if you have a trash can on every corner, you have to pay enough people to empty all of those trash cans."
Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I still want them.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
The Call / Where There's Smokes...
Tuesday night
Dream 1: The Call
It was the mid-1980s, and Dad's sister was visiting the family at our home in Arlington. Suddently the phone rang at 3 a.m. and everyone in the house was awakened. [The ring was incredibly loud, as if we were hearing a siren.] The person on the other end of the line was calling from Europe, to inform us that Prince had died. Not a prince, Prince the musician. I walked over to the den and turned on the TV to watch a retrospective about him on the news.
Dream 2: Where There's Smokes...
My family was gathered to watch some home movies. Somehow they had gotten hold of an old film of yours truly at a party with my early-80s girlfriend, Connie P. Connie was sitting in my lap, and we were making out, seemingly oblivious to the other party guests. I was wearing a yellow sleeveless T shirt, and I was holding a cigarette. My mom seemed to be a little embarrassed by the images, but she was gently poking fun at me at the same time. She said, "...And you're smoking?!" At one point Connie turned and handed a funny-looking cigarette to Brent L., who was leaning over from the seat behind us. I explained to my family that, despite appearances, it was a cigarette, and not a joint; she liked to roll her own. I'm not sure that they believed me.
*****
Dream 1: The Call
I remember Mom calling downstairs to tell me when Elvis died, although I don't really recall much about the TV coverage, though I must have watched it. I clearly recall Walter Cronkite announcing the deaths of John Lennon and, strangely enough, Led Zeppelin's John Bonham.
There were two false fire alarms at work yesterday. Very annoying they were. I'm sure that sound became the sound of the phone call in this dream.
Dream 2: Where There's Smokes...
It pains me to admit that I did, in fact, own and wear the yellow sleeveless shirt. I must have been out of my mind. Connie did smoke some very strong cigarettes -- made of cloves? They were called Gitanes, if I remember correctly. I've never smoked a cigarette/cigar/joint.
It turned out that cigarettes weren't the only thing that Connie shared with Brent. I haven't seen or talked to Connie since 1984.
Dream 1: The Call
It was the mid-1980s, and Dad's sister was visiting the family at our home in Arlington. Suddently the phone rang at 3 a.m. and everyone in the house was awakened. [The ring was incredibly loud, as if we were hearing a siren.] The person on the other end of the line was calling from Europe, to inform us that Prince had died. Not a prince, Prince the musician. I walked over to the den and turned on the TV to watch a retrospective about him on the news.
Dream 2: Where There's Smokes...
My family was gathered to watch some home movies. Somehow they had gotten hold of an old film of yours truly at a party with my early-80s girlfriend, Connie P. Connie was sitting in my lap, and we were making out, seemingly oblivious to the other party guests. I was wearing a yellow sleeveless T shirt, and I was holding a cigarette. My mom seemed to be a little embarrassed by the images, but she was gently poking fun at me at the same time. She said, "...And you're smoking?!" At one point Connie turned and handed a funny-looking cigarette to Brent L., who was leaning over from the seat behind us. I explained to my family that, despite appearances, it was a cigarette, and not a joint; she liked to roll her own. I'm not sure that they believed me.
*****
Dream 1: The Call
I remember Mom calling downstairs to tell me when Elvis died, although I don't really recall much about the TV coverage, though I must have watched it. I clearly recall Walter Cronkite announcing the deaths of John Lennon and, strangely enough, Led Zeppelin's John Bonham.
There were two false fire alarms at work yesterday. Very annoying they were. I'm sure that sound became the sound of the phone call in this dream.
Dream 2: Where There's Smokes...
It pains me to admit that I did, in fact, own and wear the yellow sleeveless shirt. I must have been out of my mind. Connie did smoke some very strong cigarettes -- made of cloves? They were called Gitanes, if I remember correctly. I've never smoked a cigarette/cigar/joint.
It turned out that cigarettes weren't the only thing that Connie shared with Brent. I haven't seen or talked to Connie since 1984.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Dr. Dolittle, I Presume / Caught / It's Nice, But...
Monday night
Dream 1: Dr. Dolittle, I Presume
My wife and I were visiting Maryland and were out having a walk in a downtown shopping district. I looked around, imagining the possibilities, and said, "I could live here. We'd be pretty close to our friends (in Virginia and D.C.). So, we moved. We bought a long, thin townhouse in the city, and I commented that I liked the views all around. One evening some old friends came over for dinner and we had a marvelous time. (The husband was actor John Cleese.)
A few weeks after we had gotten settled into our new home, my wife invited me to the location of her new job. She was involved in scientific research, but I didn't know what kind. She ushered me into a secret room in which large rectangular and square glass tanks filled a far wall. The cases contained some small apes, but there were also some large white chameleons and a gigantic albino grasshopper, which must have been four feet long. She revealed that she and her fellow scientists were teaching the animals how to talk.
*****
Dream 2: Caught
After some extensive research, I'd located an estate where one of the silliest adventure series ever had been filmed (think "Danger Island," or maybe "Land of the Lost"). The grounds were lush and green, and they surrounded a large mansion. I visited the location several times (without permission) and watered the huge, swaying palm trees to help preserve them.
One day I brought my wife to the site, and we got up the courage to knock on the front door. To our surprise we met no resistance; in fact, we were ushered in. Suddenly we found ourselves back in the 1970s, watching the filming of an episode of the show. The actors were working on an interior scene, and were massed in a stark white room with a closet, each fitted with clothing, makeup and hairstyles of the period. There was no furniture in the room. The actors went about their work purposefully and seriously, all the while seemingly aware that they were spouting some of the dumbest dialogue imaginable. My wife and I stood in the background, trying not to interrupt. Suddenly, two of the actors, a man and a woman, saw my wife, and broke character; one of them said, "Oh, Crap." They sheepishly removed their wigs and makeup to reveal that they were young versions of two people who would work with her decades later in Nashville.
*****
Dream 3: It's Nice, But...
It was a cold day, and I was visiting Martha Stewart's operation, which had recently relocated to Manhattan. Martha and I were standing outside; she was pointing out the sights and explaining the move. She said that she had the best of both worlds; her headquarters could be in the heart of the business district, yet she could live in a very nice house only 10 blocks away. I said, "Only 10 blocks from here? Wow." I was impressed.
I looked over to my right and saw a sight that intrigued me, but made me nervous. There was a long asphalt alley which formed a straight line from where I was standing. Employees parked their cars there, lined up with the front of the cars facing the side of a brick building on the right. The back end of each car leaned precariously over a sheer drop of hundreds of feet. Down below I could see a river, and beyond that, on the other side, was a marvelous row of red brick Victorian townhouses. I thought, "Geez, I'd hate to have to park there. There's no guardrail, or anything. If this parking lot ever froze, one slip and you'd be off that cliff and into the drink."
*****
Dream 1: Dr. Dolittle, I Presume
The other day my wife was sweeping our front porch and pointed out a large grasshopper who had stopped by for a visit. I was flipping the TV channels around the other night and came across one of the bad Pierce Brosnan James Bond movies. John Cleese (of "Monty Python" and "Fawlty Towers" fame) played the hapless successor to "Q," keeper of extraordinary gadgets.
Dream 2: Caught
This dream would be absolutely perfect if the man and woman who revealed themselves ended up being my wife's former Nashville boss and his wife, who are probably in their 50s. Alas, it was not to be. The young man in the dream was Kyle N., one of my wife's former students. He's a nice guy; we've played poker a few times. He wasn't born yet in the 1970s. I didn't recognize the actress who knew my wife.
The actors "broke character" because I happened across a retrospective about the Carol Burnett Show on PBS last night. No cast ever broke character more than that bunch.
Dream 3: It's Nice, But
Lately I've enjoyed flipping through a fascinating book called "Washington, D.C. Past & Present" by Peter R. Penczer (Oneonta Press, Arlington, Virginia, 1998). Mr Penczer found 127 old photographs of the District of Columbia and environs, and painstakingly took modern (1990s) photographs from the same vantage point(s). He used computer technology to crop his new photos as closely as possible to the originals. I'm sure that the row of Victorian town homes across the river in this dream resemble many of the the stately 19th century homes and businesses which were demolished in D.C. in the 20th Century. Some made way for worthy projects; others were razed for monstrosities, such as the F.B.I. building.
I'm sure that the gulf and the river boundary have a profound meaning, but I don't know what it is. An unbridgeable chasm between the present and and a more appealing past, perhaps?
Dream 1: Dr. Dolittle, I Presume
My wife and I were visiting Maryland and were out having a walk in a downtown shopping district. I looked around, imagining the possibilities, and said, "I could live here. We'd be pretty close to our friends (in Virginia and D.C.). So, we moved. We bought a long, thin townhouse in the city, and I commented that I liked the views all around. One evening some old friends came over for dinner and we had a marvelous time. (The husband was actor John Cleese.)
A few weeks after we had gotten settled into our new home, my wife invited me to the location of her new job. She was involved in scientific research, but I didn't know what kind. She ushered me into a secret room in which large rectangular and square glass tanks filled a far wall. The cases contained some small apes, but there were also some large white chameleons and a gigantic albino grasshopper, which must have been four feet long. She revealed that she and her fellow scientists were teaching the animals how to talk.
*****
Dream 2: Caught
After some extensive research, I'd located an estate where one of the silliest adventure series ever had been filmed (think "Danger Island," or maybe "Land of the Lost"). The grounds were lush and green, and they surrounded a large mansion. I visited the location several times (without permission) and watered the huge, swaying palm trees to help preserve them.
One day I brought my wife to the site, and we got up the courage to knock on the front door. To our surprise we met no resistance; in fact, we were ushered in. Suddenly we found ourselves back in the 1970s, watching the filming of an episode of the show. The actors were working on an interior scene, and were massed in a stark white room with a closet, each fitted with clothing, makeup and hairstyles of the period. There was no furniture in the room. The actors went about their work purposefully and seriously, all the while seemingly aware that they were spouting some of the dumbest dialogue imaginable. My wife and I stood in the background, trying not to interrupt. Suddenly, two of the actors, a man and a woman, saw my wife, and broke character; one of them said, "Oh, Crap." They sheepishly removed their wigs and makeup to reveal that they were young versions of two people who would work with her decades later in Nashville.
*****
Dream 3: It's Nice, But...
It was a cold day, and I was visiting Martha Stewart's operation, which had recently relocated to Manhattan. Martha and I were standing outside; she was pointing out the sights and explaining the move. She said that she had the best of both worlds; her headquarters could be in the heart of the business district, yet she could live in a very nice house only 10 blocks away. I said, "Only 10 blocks from here? Wow." I was impressed.
I looked over to my right and saw a sight that intrigued me, but made me nervous. There was a long asphalt alley which formed a straight line from where I was standing. Employees parked their cars there, lined up with the front of the cars facing the side of a brick building on the right. The back end of each car leaned precariously over a sheer drop of hundreds of feet. Down below I could see a river, and beyond that, on the other side, was a marvelous row of red brick Victorian townhouses. I thought, "Geez, I'd hate to have to park there. There's no guardrail, or anything. If this parking lot ever froze, one slip and you'd be off that cliff and into the drink."
*****
Dream 1: Dr. Dolittle, I Presume
The other day my wife was sweeping our front porch and pointed out a large grasshopper who had stopped by for a visit. I was flipping the TV channels around the other night and came across one of the bad Pierce Brosnan James Bond movies. John Cleese (of "Monty Python" and "Fawlty Towers" fame) played the hapless successor to "Q," keeper of extraordinary gadgets.
Dream 2: Caught
This dream would be absolutely perfect if the man and woman who revealed themselves ended up being my wife's former Nashville boss and his wife, who are probably in their 50s. Alas, it was not to be. The young man in the dream was Kyle N., one of my wife's former students. He's a nice guy; we've played poker a few times. He wasn't born yet in the 1970s. I didn't recognize the actress who knew my wife.
The actors "broke character" because I happened across a retrospective about the Carol Burnett Show on PBS last night. No cast ever broke character more than that bunch.
Dream 3: It's Nice, But
Lately I've enjoyed flipping through a fascinating book called "Washington, D.C. Past & Present" by Peter R. Penczer (Oneonta Press, Arlington, Virginia, 1998). Mr Penczer found 127 old photographs of the District of Columbia and environs, and painstakingly took modern (1990s) photographs from the same vantage point(s). He used computer technology to crop his new photos as closely as possible to the originals. I'm sure that the row of Victorian town homes across the river in this dream resemble many of the the stately 19th century homes and businesses which were demolished in D.C. in the 20th Century. Some made way for worthy projects; others were razed for monstrosities, such as the F.B.I. building.
I'm sure that the gulf and the river boundary have a profound meaning, but I don't know what it is. An unbridgeable chasm between the present and and a more appealing past, perhaps?
Monday, November 5, 2007
Airport Meetings
Sunday night
A 1965-era Mick Jagger was walking through an airport, wearing a smart dark pinstriped suit and a pair of pistols sticking out at his hips, mainly for show. He was hoping to buy tickets for himself and a few others to fly to Morocco, but the flight was completely sold out, so he was walking up and down the line of travelers, hoping to make a deal. Word soon got around that he was there. Jagger came upon a tall black man who was waiting in line, and instinctively stopped, looking up into his face. The tall man said, "That's a nice suit... and those pistols are new." Mick opened his coat, revealing the guns and their white handles; he was impressed that the man had noticed them. The tall man motioned Mick over to a table. It turned out that he was a reporter -- he was a trained observer. Maybe he and Mick could strike a deal. The reporter said, "I'm writing a book about rock in Hamburg. Can you tell me about your experiences there?" Mick flicked his cigarette into an ashtray and reacted with interest. He said, "Yeh -- we opened for Roy Orbison there. I'd forgotten all about that." Later, after he'd given his interview and made the deal for the tickets, he and his entourage waited in a private V.I.P. lounge for his flight to take off.
Meanwhile, I was in the same airport, waiting with my own entourage of friends to take our next journey, to London. We were wealthy playboys (and girls) and could fly wherever we wished, on a whim. Suddenly my old high school friend Sally C. burst into our V.I.P. lounge. She said, "I saw you and decided that I'm going to join you on your trip!" I rolled my eyes and said, "Great."
*****
I saw a book at Restoration Hardware this weekend called "365 Days of the Rolling Stones," which featured tons of great photographs of the band in the 1960s, some of which showed them in striped suits. The Beatles played in Hamburg, but I'm not aware that the Stones every played there.
The only photos I've ever seen of Mick Jagger with guns were from his movie role as Ned Kelly.
A 1965-era Mick Jagger was walking through an airport, wearing a smart dark pinstriped suit and a pair of pistols sticking out at his hips, mainly for show. He was hoping to buy tickets for himself and a few others to fly to Morocco, but the flight was completely sold out, so he was walking up and down the line of travelers, hoping to make a deal. Word soon got around that he was there. Jagger came upon a tall black man who was waiting in line, and instinctively stopped, looking up into his face. The tall man said, "That's a nice suit... and those pistols are new." Mick opened his coat, revealing the guns and their white handles; he was impressed that the man had noticed them. The tall man motioned Mick over to a table. It turned out that he was a reporter -- he was a trained observer. Maybe he and Mick could strike a deal. The reporter said, "I'm writing a book about rock in Hamburg. Can you tell me about your experiences there?" Mick flicked his cigarette into an ashtray and reacted with interest. He said, "Yeh -- we opened for Roy Orbison there. I'd forgotten all about that." Later, after he'd given his interview and made the deal for the tickets, he and his entourage waited in a private V.I.P. lounge for his flight to take off.
Meanwhile, I was in the same airport, waiting with my own entourage of friends to take our next journey, to London. We were wealthy playboys (and girls) and could fly wherever we wished, on a whim. Suddenly my old high school friend Sally C. burst into our V.I.P. lounge. She said, "I saw you and decided that I'm going to join you on your trip!" I rolled my eyes and said, "Great."
*****
I saw a book at Restoration Hardware this weekend called "365 Days of the Rolling Stones," which featured tons of great photographs of the band in the 1960s, some of which showed them in striped suits. The Beatles played in Hamburg, but I'm not aware that the Stones every played there.
The only photos I've ever seen of Mick Jagger with guns were from his movie role as Ned Kelly.
You've Got To Be Kidding
Saturday night
I had just finished preparing a complicated advertising agreement, and handed out copies to the sales staff at work. No sooner had I completed that task that word came down that I was to redact certain statements and add others so that the agreement could be used in China. My initial thought was, "That's not my job! Finance should be responsible for those changes; they should prepare it and send it out to everyone."
*****
One of the things that drives me crazy at work is that we'll complete a sales agreement form and hand it out to sales reps to sell it in the field, and then it is changed -- sometimes more than once -- so different versions are floating about, and everyone is confused. It ties my stomach in knots.
I had just finished preparing a complicated advertising agreement, and handed out copies to the sales staff at work. No sooner had I completed that task that word came down that I was to redact certain statements and add others so that the agreement could be used in China. My initial thought was, "That's not my job! Finance should be responsible for those changes; they should prepare it and send it out to everyone."
*****
One of the things that drives me crazy at work is that we'll complete a sales agreement form and hand it out to sales reps to sell it in the field, and then it is changed -- sometimes more than once -- so different versions are floating about, and everyone is confused. It ties my stomach in knots.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Upside-Down World
Friday night
A smart young woman was visiting her psychiatrist. One of her close relatives was a famous person who was involved in an embarrassing scandal, and was currently all over the news. She was finding, to her dismay, that many people wanted to befriend her solely due to his notoriety.
*****
I can't even bring up my e-mail anymore without being bombarded by the latest stupid celebrity scandal. I'm pretty fed up with "Comcast news," a feature I never requested or needed. Anyway, this dream is no doubt influenced by this idiot "Dog the Bounty Hunter," who, until recently, had his own TV show. Not long ago he called his son, ranting about the son's girlfriend, who is black, using the "N word" several times. Of course, the son promptly sold the tape to the National Enquirer, they put the tape on their website, and suddenly, Dog is in the doghouse with his network. "Stupid is as stupid does," as Forrest Gump said.
A smart young woman was visiting her psychiatrist. One of her close relatives was a famous person who was involved in an embarrassing scandal, and was currently all over the news. She was finding, to her dismay, that many people wanted to befriend her solely due to his notoriety.
*****
I can't even bring up my e-mail anymore without being bombarded by the latest stupid celebrity scandal. I'm pretty fed up with "Comcast news," a feature I never requested or needed. Anyway, this dream is no doubt influenced by this idiot "Dog the Bounty Hunter," who, until recently, had his own TV show. Not long ago he called his son, ranting about the son's girlfriend, who is black, using the "N word" several times. Of course, the son promptly sold the tape to the National Enquirer, they put the tape on their website, and suddenly, Dog is in the doghouse with his network. "Stupid is as stupid does," as Forrest Gump said.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Transplant / Sad
Thursday night
Dream 1: Transplant
I'd decided to move into a new apartment building, and my girlfriend was helping me move. The new place had a very nice central garden with brick walls, and I was transplanting some of my trees from the old place to the new one. That was going well, and the trees were growing like crazy -- one, which had a green trunk, almost like bamboo, suddenly towered over my head. Still, despite these successes, I was a little down or unsure, because I didn't know anyone at the new place. I walked out in the garden one day and was met with a happy surprise; my girlfriend had decorated my trees with Christmas lights. The green tree, in particular, was swathed in large, old-fashioned lights that were pinkish-purple. She walked up behind me, carrying a pot filled with yellow mums which she'd brought over from my old apartment. She said, "I thought I'd plant them near the roots of this tree." Later, we went back inside and I looked down the hallway, and saw her standing in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. I thought to myself, "There are probably other girls out there that I could date, but I could marry her."
Dream 2: Sad
My wife and I walked into a restaurant and were surprised to run into her ex, who was sitting at the bar. We could tell by his conversation that he had been there for awhile. I said, "That's how he was the last time I saw him." I held back and she went over to talk with him to see how he was doing.
*****
Dream 1: Transplant
The events recounted in this dream didn't happen, and I don't remember having that one clear moment of epiphany, but I have been married to that girlfriend for almost six and a half years. She's pretty cool.
Last night I took some of our Halloween decorations to the shed in the back yard, and paused to have a look at a tree that we transplanted the year before. I'm sure that tree and the Halloween lights inspired this dream.
Dream 2: Sad
The guy in question was impaired the last time we met at a restaurant. My wife wasn't there, but others were, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. I was surprised.
Dream 1: Transplant
I'd decided to move into a new apartment building, and my girlfriend was helping me move. The new place had a very nice central garden with brick walls, and I was transplanting some of my trees from the old place to the new one. That was going well, and the trees were growing like crazy -- one, which had a green trunk, almost like bamboo, suddenly towered over my head. Still, despite these successes, I was a little down or unsure, because I didn't know anyone at the new place. I walked out in the garden one day and was met with a happy surprise; my girlfriend had decorated my trees with Christmas lights. The green tree, in particular, was swathed in large, old-fashioned lights that were pinkish-purple. She walked up behind me, carrying a pot filled with yellow mums which she'd brought over from my old apartment. She said, "I thought I'd plant them near the roots of this tree." Later, we went back inside and I looked down the hallway, and saw her standing in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. I thought to myself, "There are probably other girls out there that I could date, but I could marry her."
Dream 2: Sad
My wife and I walked into a restaurant and were surprised to run into her ex, who was sitting at the bar. We could tell by his conversation that he had been there for awhile. I said, "That's how he was the last time I saw him." I held back and she went over to talk with him to see how he was doing.
*****
Dream 1: Transplant
The events recounted in this dream didn't happen, and I don't remember having that one clear moment of epiphany, but I have been married to that girlfriend for almost six and a half years. She's pretty cool.
Last night I took some of our Halloween decorations to the shed in the back yard, and paused to have a look at a tree that we transplanted the year before. I'm sure that tree and the Halloween lights inspired this dream.
Dream 2: Sad
The guy in question was impaired the last time we met at a restaurant. My wife wasn't there, but others were, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. I was surprised.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Trust No One / F.W.P.
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Trust No One
My wife's friend, Laura, and I worked in a section of a government agency with the highest security clearance possible. Word had recently come down that there might be a mole in our midst, and suddenly my boss and I weren't sure who to trust, including Laura and other members of our team. All of this weighed heavily on me, and I rushed to the tippy-top security room, fumbling with my key in the lock, trying to secure important documents before Laura could get there. (She had a key, too.)
A few minutes later I met up with my boss. He and I were standing outside of a conference room in a dark-paneled hallway. Other coworkers were passing by and some were milling about. He leaned over and whispered, Do you have the photographs?" I said, "I handed them to your boss." He said, "Good. And the papers?" I said, "I hid them inside the tall book on the upper shelf."
Dream 2: F.W.P.
I was walking along a path in the woods, having a very pleasant conversation with a "Smokey and the Bandit"-era Sally Field. Suddenly, we came upon a poor Southern boy, who was excitedly chasing something. He cried out, "It's a ground squirrel!" He was hoping to catch it and eat it. Sally said, "You run along -- by noon you'll have your ground squirrel!" With that, she whipped out a long string with a rock at the end of it, and began twirling it around her head. She was going to kill the squirrel for the hungry boy. I stood back and watched. I thought, "Wow. She's cute, we have fun together, she's got a lariat... I wonder if I could become a "friend with privileges?"
*****
Dream 1: Trust No One
Laura came over to our house last night to observe the Halloween festivities in our neighborhood. At one point, she, my wife and another friend took a walk to see the decorations on the next street, and I held down the fort with two neighbors. Soon we were running low on candy, and I needed to go back inside for reinforcements. Unfortunately, our 80-year-old doorknob was tricky again, and I couldn't get in the house. I'd left my keys inside, and thought I'd have to wait for my wife to get back. Finally, our neighbor realized that he had a set of keys to our place, so his wife ran and got them, and we didn't run out of candy after all. I'm sure that stress over fiddling with the lock to the front door last night factored into this dream.
It's interesting to me that on 10/18 I dreamed that I was a crook involved with Tony Soprano's gang, and was warning the other guys not to trust anyone. This time, I was a government worker who trusted no one. Hmmm...
Dream 2
My coworker Ginger and I were talking about Sally Field the other day. I mentioned that she filmed a movie in my neighborhood last year.
I told my wife about this dream this morning, and she said, "She's cute. You're cute, too, but there are levels. She's above your level." I'll say.
I'm assuming that all two of my readers will understand which privileges I was thinking about.
*****
October Dream Roundup
It seems that more celebrities than usual popped up in my dreams in October; most of them were musicians. And what's with the color blue this month? Al Gore wore a blue shirt, The center of the Soprano's new H.Q. was painted blue, Chris Matthews' L.P. was on blue vinyl, and the peacock painted on the bathroom door had bright blue feathers. ?
Friends/Family:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brent L.
Dad
Denis G.
Eddie M.
Eric M.
Jenni H.
Jimmie C.
Mom
Stuart R.
Wingard C.
Coworkers/Acquaintances:
Frank A.
Harriet T.
Melissa L.
Celebrities:
Al Gore
Alex Van Halen
Britney Spears (mentioned by Chris Matthews in "Cut Short")
Chris Matthews
Dan Akyroyd
David Lee Roth
DeForest Kelly
Dick Van Dyke
Don Henley
Eddie Van Halen
George Takei
J.C. Crowley (of Player)
James Doohan
Jennifer Aniston
John Friesen (Player)
Jonathan Cain
Leonard Nimoy
Lucille Ball
Matt Lauer
Nichelle Nichols
The Osmonds
Pat Benatar
Peter Beckett (Player)
Peter MacNicol
Paul Simon
Ron Moss (Player)
Rudy Giuliani
Tony Sirico (as Paulie Walnuts)
Walter Koenig
Wayne Cook (Player)
William Shatner
Wolfgang Van Halen
Dream 1: Trust No One
My wife's friend, Laura, and I worked in a section of a government agency with the highest security clearance possible. Word had recently come down that there might be a mole in our midst, and suddenly my boss and I weren't sure who to trust, including Laura and other members of our team. All of this weighed heavily on me, and I rushed to the tippy-top security room, fumbling with my key in the lock, trying to secure important documents before Laura could get there. (She had a key, too.)
A few minutes later I met up with my boss. He and I were standing outside of a conference room in a dark-paneled hallway. Other coworkers were passing by and some were milling about. He leaned over and whispered, Do you have the photographs?" I said, "I handed them to your boss." He said, "Good. And the papers?" I said, "I hid them inside the tall book on the upper shelf."
Dream 2: F.W.P.
I was walking along a path in the woods, having a very pleasant conversation with a "Smokey and the Bandit"-era Sally Field. Suddenly, we came upon a poor Southern boy, who was excitedly chasing something. He cried out, "It's a ground squirrel!" He was hoping to catch it and eat it. Sally said, "You run along -- by noon you'll have your ground squirrel!" With that, she whipped out a long string with a rock at the end of it, and began twirling it around her head. She was going to kill the squirrel for the hungry boy. I stood back and watched. I thought, "Wow. She's cute, we have fun together, she's got a lariat... I wonder if I could become a "friend with privileges?"
*****
Dream 1: Trust No One
Laura came over to our house last night to observe the Halloween festivities in our neighborhood. At one point, she, my wife and another friend took a walk to see the decorations on the next street, and I held down the fort with two neighbors. Soon we were running low on candy, and I needed to go back inside for reinforcements. Unfortunately, our 80-year-old doorknob was tricky again, and I couldn't get in the house. I'd left my keys inside, and thought I'd have to wait for my wife to get back. Finally, our neighbor realized that he had a set of keys to our place, so his wife ran and got them, and we didn't run out of candy after all. I'm sure that stress over fiddling with the lock to the front door last night factored into this dream.
It's interesting to me that on 10/18 I dreamed that I was a crook involved with Tony Soprano's gang, and was warning the other guys not to trust anyone. This time, I was a government worker who trusted no one. Hmmm...
Dream 2
My coworker Ginger and I were talking about Sally Field the other day. I mentioned that she filmed a movie in my neighborhood last year.
I told my wife about this dream this morning, and she said, "She's cute. You're cute, too, but there are levels. She's above your level." I'll say.
I'm assuming that all two of my readers will understand which privileges I was thinking about.
*****
October Dream Roundup
It seems that more celebrities than usual popped up in my dreams in October; most of them were musicians. And what's with the color blue this month? Al Gore wore a blue shirt, The center of the Soprano's new H.Q. was painted blue, Chris Matthews' L.P. was on blue vinyl, and the peacock painted on the bathroom door had bright blue feathers. ?
Friends/Family:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brent L.
Dad
Denis G.
Eddie M.
Eric M.
Jenni H.
Jimmie C.
Mom
Stuart R.
Wingard C.
Coworkers/Acquaintances:
Frank A.
Harriet T.
Melissa L.
Celebrities:
Al Gore
Alex Van Halen
Britney Spears (mentioned by Chris Matthews in "Cut Short")
Chris Matthews
Dan Akyroyd
David Lee Roth
DeForest Kelly
Dick Van Dyke
Don Henley
Eddie Van Halen
George Takei
J.C. Crowley (of Player)
James Doohan
Jennifer Aniston
John Friesen (Player)
Jonathan Cain
Leonard Nimoy
Lucille Ball
Matt Lauer
Nichelle Nichols
The Osmonds
Pat Benatar
Peter Beckett (Player)
Peter MacNicol
Paul Simon
Ron Moss (Player)
Rudy Giuliani
Tony Sirico (as Paulie Walnuts)
Walter Koenig
Wayne Cook (Player)
William Shatner
Wolfgang Van Halen
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tasty Burger
Monday night
I was driving to an appointment and I was late. It had already been a hectic day; both my brother Andrew and I were having trouble with our automobiles, so we were sharing a rental car. I'd dropped him off wherever he needed to be, and now I was racing toward the home of a millionaire who had hired me to make a motivational speech to the Beef Council. I hadn't had time to prepare anything, so I was screwed.
I finally arrived at my destination, in a rather disheveled state. My host opened the door, and he didn't seem very happy. I said, "Do I have time to grab a shower?" He said, "No. They [the guests] are downstairs, waiting!" I said, "I'll be there in 10 minutes," and ran upstairs, thinking that maybe I could score a deodorant stick or something.
In the meantime, my mind raced. What would I say to these people? I thought I'd begin with, "How many of you folks coach high school football in your spare time? Let's see those hands. Now, what do you say to those kids the night before the big game? 'Let's have some pretzels?' No! They want meat! After that, maybe I could get away with asking everybody to talk about the best burger they ever had. Maybe I could escape with that.
Eventually I got to the third floor. I'd been to the house before, so I knew where the private bath was. As I got to the top of the landing, I was taken aback by a new sight; the owner's ditzy socialite wife had gotten somebody to paint a gaudy, flamboyant peacock on the bathroom door, in vibrant shades of blue and green. The feathers spread out for several feet of wall space in the hallway, on either side of the door.
*****
This dream is a strange mix of actions and conversations at work yesterday. Last night, when I was preparing to go home, I overheard my boss talking about her son's high school football game. She said it was sad that the parents knew more than the coach about how to use the clock and time outs in the last few minutes of a game. Also, I bought a bag of pretzels from a vending machine yesterday afternoon. I thought it was strange enough that those two references were incorporated in this dream, but when I mentioned it to one of our sales reps this morning, she said, "Oh, we were talking about the Beef Council yesterday. We're thinking about pitching something to them. You must have heard us over the wall of the cubicle." I had no idea.
I was driving to an appointment and I was late. It had already been a hectic day; both my brother Andrew and I were having trouble with our automobiles, so we were sharing a rental car. I'd dropped him off wherever he needed to be, and now I was racing toward the home of a millionaire who had hired me to make a motivational speech to the Beef Council. I hadn't had time to prepare anything, so I was screwed.
I finally arrived at my destination, in a rather disheveled state. My host opened the door, and he didn't seem very happy. I said, "Do I have time to grab a shower?" He said, "No. They [the guests] are downstairs, waiting!" I said, "I'll be there in 10 minutes," and ran upstairs, thinking that maybe I could score a deodorant stick or something.
In the meantime, my mind raced. What would I say to these people? I thought I'd begin with, "How many of you folks coach high school football in your spare time? Let's see those hands. Now, what do you say to those kids the night before the big game? 'Let's have some pretzels?' No! They want meat! After that, maybe I could get away with asking everybody to talk about the best burger they ever had. Maybe I could escape with that.
Eventually I got to the third floor. I'd been to the house before, so I knew where the private bath was. As I got to the top of the landing, I was taken aback by a new sight; the owner's ditzy socialite wife had gotten somebody to paint a gaudy, flamboyant peacock on the bathroom door, in vibrant shades of blue and green. The feathers spread out for several feet of wall space in the hallway, on either side of the door.
*****
This dream is a strange mix of actions and conversations at work yesterday. Last night, when I was preparing to go home, I overheard my boss talking about her son's high school football game. She said it was sad that the parents knew more than the coach about how to use the clock and time outs in the last few minutes of a game. Also, I bought a bag of pretzels from a vending machine yesterday afternoon. I thought it was strange enough that those two references were incorporated in this dream, but when I mentioned it to one of our sales reps this morning, she said, "Oh, we were talking about the Beef Council yesterday. We're thinking about pitching something to them. You must have heard us over the wall of the cubicle." I had no idea.
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Late, Late Show
Sunday night
I was awake in the early hours of the morning, so I decided to check out what was on the tube. I switched on my portable black and white TV, and was pleased to see that I'd happened upon the beginning of a 1930s comedy that I'd never seen. The opening credits featured a montage of photographs of many actors from that era, including a young Lucille Ball. I was really getting into it until a large photo/slide stopped me in my tracks. It was made up to look like a vintage piece of sheet music, and featured a close-up photograph of a heavy man in a suit. Unfortunately, that man was Dan Akyroyd. I rolled my eyes and thought, "Crap. It's not a real 1930s movie -- it's a pastiche."
Despite my misgivings, I decided to continue watching, for a little while, anyway. The first scene opened in a well-stocked 1930s department store. In the background, a young girl (the daughter of someone who worked there, or maybe the owner) was sitting behind a glass counter, and could be heard amiably chatting away with one of the salespeople. The camera wasn't focused on them, however; instead, it slowly panned along the well-stocked shelves, lovingly fixing on the well-made clothes and knick knacks of that time, particularly the incredible, wonderful metal toys. I thought to myself, "Man, they did a fantastic job recreating this stuff. This set must have cost millions."
*****
I haven't owned, or watched a black and white TV set since I left my parents' house in the 1980s, so this dream was probably set about 20 years ago.
Lately, I've been thinking that it's almost time to watch "Miracle on 34th Street," (the 1947 original, of course) which, to my way of thinking, is a Thanksgiving movie, not a Christmas movie. At least, it starts out that way. M.O.34th features a wonderfully precocious girl, Susan Walker (played by Natalie Wood) who is the daughter of a woman who is a P.R. executive at a large Manhattan department store, which contains a heck of a toy department. I've paused my DVD on many occasions to drool over the gleaming vintage metal cars and trucks. They sure don't make 'em like they used to.
Dan Akyroyd was hilarious back in his SNL days, but I haven't been a huge fan of his movie work, at least since "Ghostbusters," which came out in 1984. I liked "Trading Places," though.
I was awake in the early hours of the morning, so I decided to check out what was on the tube. I switched on my portable black and white TV, and was pleased to see that I'd happened upon the beginning of a 1930s comedy that I'd never seen. The opening credits featured a montage of photographs of many actors from that era, including a young Lucille Ball. I was really getting into it until a large photo/slide stopped me in my tracks. It was made up to look like a vintage piece of sheet music, and featured a close-up photograph of a heavy man in a suit. Unfortunately, that man was Dan Akyroyd. I rolled my eyes and thought, "Crap. It's not a real 1930s movie -- it's a pastiche."
Despite my misgivings, I decided to continue watching, for a little while, anyway. The first scene opened in a well-stocked 1930s department store. In the background, a young girl (the daughter of someone who worked there, or maybe the owner) was sitting behind a glass counter, and could be heard amiably chatting away with one of the salespeople. The camera wasn't focused on them, however; instead, it slowly panned along the well-stocked shelves, lovingly fixing on the well-made clothes and knick knacks of that time, particularly the incredible, wonderful metal toys. I thought to myself, "Man, they did a fantastic job recreating this stuff. This set must have cost millions."
*****
I haven't owned, or watched a black and white TV set since I left my parents' house in the 1980s, so this dream was probably set about 20 years ago.
Lately, I've been thinking that it's almost time to watch "Miracle on 34th Street," (the 1947 original, of course) which, to my way of thinking, is a Thanksgiving movie, not a Christmas movie. At least, it starts out that way. M.O.34th features a wonderfully precocious girl, Susan Walker (played by Natalie Wood) who is the daughter of a woman who is a P.R. executive at a large Manhattan department store, which contains a heck of a toy department. I've paused my DVD on many occasions to drool over the gleaming vintage metal cars and trucks. They sure don't make 'em like they used to.
Dan Akyroyd was hilarious back in his SNL days, but I haven't been a huge fan of his movie work, at least since "Ghostbusters," which came out in 1984. I liked "Trading Places," though.
Science! / Cot / The Report Card Again
Saturday night
Dream 1: Science!
My childhood friend Denis Gemond had moved to Philadelphia, where he was working as a scientist. I went up there to visit him, and he showed me around the lab. It was a huge open space, filled with desks and scientific apparatuses, and I remember thinking that it would be easy to get lost in there.
Dream 2: Cot
I was back at the group house that I shared with a revolving cast of roommates on Hyson Lane in Falls Church, Virginia. Apparently I didn't have a bed in which to sleep; all I had was a ratty old cot, and no nice sheets to fix it up. On top of that, my roommates and I weren't getting along very well.
Dream 3: The Report Card Again
I'd gone back to college, and meant to make a fresh start and do really well this time. Unfortunately, I'd fallen back into my old bad habits, and skipped most of my history classes during the current semester, so I was expecting to get an Incomplete on my report card. I dreaded showing a bad report card to my dad, so I wondered what I could do to pass the final exam. I rummaged through my papers and found notes that I'd scribbled about the movie "Casablanca." Maybe they would help me salvage my grade.
*****
Dream 1: Science!
I've known Denis since we were about 3 years old, but have only seen him twice in the past six and a half years, mainly due to the fact that my wife and I moved from Virginia to Nashville six years ago. Denis isn't a scientist, but he did attend a private high school or college or something in Pennsylvania. I do know some scientists who toil among the beakers at Vanderbilt University.
By the way, if the followers of Cincinnatus were the Cincinnati, why is the plural of apparatus not apparati? Crazy language.
Dream 2: Cot
I did have an old cot at the townhouse on Hyson Lane, but didn't sleep on it very often. It was in the basement room, outside of my bedroom, which did, in fact, contain a bed.
Dream 3: The Report Card Again
I used to have the nightmare about the bad report card frequently in the 1980s and 1990s, but it stopped when I went back to American University and took a class on American History from the end of World War II through the Cold War. (I received one of two As in the class.) I thought that I'd killed that nightmare then, but this is the second time it's cropped up in the past two years. Maybe it's brought on by stress or uncertainty. I don't know. It's a drag.
Dream 1: Science!
My childhood friend Denis Gemond had moved to Philadelphia, where he was working as a scientist. I went up there to visit him, and he showed me around the lab. It was a huge open space, filled with desks and scientific apparatuses, and I remember thinking that it would be easy to get lost in there.
Dream 2: Cot
I was back at the group house that I shared with a revolving cast of roommates on Hyson Lane in Falls Church, Virginia. Apparently I didn't have a bed in which to sleep; all I had was a ratty old cot, and no nice sheets to fix it up. On top of that, my roommates and I weren't getting along very well.
Dream 3: The Report Card Again
I'd gone back to college, and meant to make a fresh start and do really well this time. Unfortunately, I'd fallen back into my old bad habits, and skipped most of my history classes during the current semester, so I was expecting to get an Incomplete on my report card. I dreaded showing a bad report card to my dad, so I wondered what I could do to pass the final exam. I rummaged through my papers and found notes that I'd scribbled about the movie "Casablanca." Maybe they would help me salvage my grade.
*****
Dream 1: Science!
I've known Denis since we were about 3 years old, but have only seen him twice in the past six and a half years, mainly due to the fact that my wife and I moved from Virginia to Nashville six years ago. Denis isn't a scientist, but he did attend a private high school or college or something in Pennsylvania. I do know some scientists who toil among the beakers at Vanderbilt University.
By the way, if the followers of Cincinnatus were the Cincinnati, why is the plural of apparatus not apparati? Crazy language.
Dream 2: Cot
I did have an old cot at the townhouse on Hyson Lane, but didn't sleep on it very often. It was in the basement room, outside of my bedroom, which did, in fact, contain a bed.
Dream 3: The Report Card Again
I used to have the nightmare about the bad report card frequently in the 1980s and 1990s, but it stopped when I went back to American University and took a class on American History from the end of World War II through the Cold War. (I received one of two As in the class.) I thought that I'd killed that nightmare then, but this is the second time it's cropped up in the past two years. Maybe it's brought on by stress or uncertainty. I don't know. It's a drag.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Visitor / California
Thursday night
Dream 1: Visitor
A tall, thin black man in a long black coat was standing with his friends on a high hill in a large public park. He was in a clearing, surrounded by forest. I was in the same park, walking uphill in his direction, when I saw him point at a large black bird that was circling just above the trees that were about 100 yards behind me. He called out, "An eagle!" One of his friends said, "It's a vulture!" The bird in question flew past me and landed much closer to all of us, in a tree to my left. He had black wings, a large black eye, and a huge, beautiful blue beak. I turned to the man in the long coat and called out, "It's a a toucan. It's not a [North] American bird -- it must have been someone's pet that escaped." He nodded, pleased that he saw it, and that I knew what it was.
Dream 2: California
My old friend, Brent L., called me on the phone. He'd been after me for days because he knew that I had a very large map of California, and he wanted information about school districts there. While Brent waited, I got the map and unfolded it. It was so large, it covered my kitchen table.
*****
Dream 1: Visitor
A tall, thin black man in a long black coat was standing with his friends on a high hill in a large public park. He was in a clearing, surrounded by forest. I was in the same park, walking uphill in his direction, when I saw him point at a large black bird that was circling just above the trees that were about 100 yards behind me. He called out, "An eagle!" One of his friends said, "It's a vulture!" The bird in question flew past me and landed much closer to all of us, in a tree to my left. He had black wings, a large black eye, and a huge, beautiful blue beak. I turned to the man in the long coat and called out, "It's a a toucan. It's not a [North] American bird -- it must have been someone's pet that escaped." He nodded, pleased that he saw it, and that I knew what it was.
Dream 2: California
My old friend, Brent L., called me on the phone. He'd been after me for days because he knew that I had a very large map of California, and he wanted information about school districts there. While Brent waited, I got the map and unfolded it. It was so large, it covered my kitchen table.
*****
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Cover Art / Decisions
Wednesday night
My employer sent me over to the office of a company that published a large, glossy magazine; something that would interest the trend setters and fashion-obsessed. I was wearing my yellow/gold jacket from L.L. Bean, so this must have happened in the fall. While waiting for my appointment, I noticed a strange pair of glasses on a table. (Imagine thick black retro horn-rims encased in / attached to clear plastic safety goggles.) I thought, "I've gotta try these." I put on the funky glasses and whirled around to look for a reflective surface -- either a mirror or a window. As I turned, the magazine's photographer saw me, and took my picture. Later, she decided that she really liked the image -- I was somewhat blurred, due to being captured in motion, but was staring at the camera -- and picked me as that issue's cover subject. When the issue came out, I got a copy and brought it home. I placed it in the middle of some of my wife's magazines on the coffee table, so I could surprise her and enjoy her reaction.
Dream 2: Decisions
My wife and I owned a red brick home in Arlington, Virginia, in a fairly new development. We were one of two families who shared a semi-circular driveway that led out onto Williamsburg Boulevard. We felt very fortunate to live in such a nice area, approximately three blocks from my parent's old house, and not far from where my brothers and I went to elementary school. Even though there were only two houses on our "street," Rudy Giuliani campaigned there one day, pulling up in our driveway in a large black limo.
As we settled into our home, my wife and I decided that we might want to adopt two children, and that meant that we had some tough decisions to make. We loved our house, and it would be great for the kids to go to my former school, which is top-notch, but it might not be safe for them to play so close to the boulevard, which can be a pretty busy street sometimes.
*****
Dream 1: Cover Art
I've been meaning to take that L.L. Bean jacket out of the closet and repair the pocket. I was running around the house in big hurry last year, caught the pocket on something, and practically tore it off.
I saw somebody on TV wearing protective goggles the other day, but can't remember the context.
I'm sure that I've absorbed many comedy routines making fun of trend setters and "the latest styles," reaching back to "Hard Day's Night," episodes of "I Love Lucy," and beyond. Come to think of it, James Stewart dismissed the entire fashion industry in one of my favorite films, "Rear Window."
Dream 2: Decisions
I wish I lived in a brick home in Arlington. The housing development mentioned in my dream does not exist. Yet.
My employer sent me over to the office of a company that published a large, glossy magazine; something that would interest the trend setters and fashion-obsessed. I was wearing my yellow/gold jacket from L.L. Bean, so this must have happened in the fall. While waiting for my appointment, I noticed a strange pair of glasses on a table. (Imagine thick black retro horn-rims encased in / attached to clear plastic safety goggles.) I thought, "I've gotta try these." I put on the funky glasses and whirled around to look for a reflective surface -- either a mirror or a window. As I turned, the magazine's photographer saw me, and took my picture. Later, she decided that she really liked the image -- I was somewhat blurred, due to being captured in motion, but was staring at the camera -- and picked me as that issue's cover subject. When the issue came out, I got a copy and brought it home. I placed it in the middle of some of my wife's magazines on the coffee table, so I could surprise her and enjoy her reaction.
Dream 2: Decisions
My wife and I owned a red brick home in Arlington, Virginia, in a fairly new development. We were one of two families who shared a semi-circular driveway that led out onto Williamsburg Boulevard. We felt very fortunate to live in such a nice area, approximately three blocks from my parent's old house, and not far from where my brothers and I went to elementary school. Even though there were only two houses on our "street," Rudy Giuliani campaigned there one day, pulling up in our driveway in a large black limo.
As we settled into our home, my wife and I decided that we might want to adopt two children, and that meant that we had some tough decisions to make. We loved our house, and it would be great for the kids to go to my former school, which is top-notch, but it might not be safe for them to play so close to the boulevard, which can be a pretty busy street sometimes.
*****
Dream 1: Cover Art
I've been meaning to take that L.L. Bean jacket out of the closet and repair the pocket. I was running around the house in big hurry last year, caught the pocket on something, and practically tore it off.
I saw somebody on TV wearing protective goggles the other day, but can't remember the context.
I'm sure that I've absorbed many comedy routines making fun of trend setters and "the latest styles," reaching back to "Hard Day's Night," episodes of "I Love Lucy," and beyond. Come to think of it, James Stewart dismissed the entire fashion industry in one of my favorite films, "Rear Window."
Dream 2: Decisions
I wish I lived in a brick home in Arlington. The housing development mentioned in my dream does not exist. Yet.
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