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.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I remember discovering Gitanes in college in 1982. The classic French cigarette, along with Gauloises, They weren't clove cigarettes, just a darker and stronger tobacco compared to your usual US cig. And fatter around too. Smoking a filtered Gitane or Gauloise was like smoking an unfiltered Camel or Lucky Strike. An unfiltered Gitane or Gauloise was like smoking a cigar.
They aren't actually made in France anymore, apparently, the parent company Altadis having moved production to Spain in 2005. But, then again, the ones we smoked in the US back in the 80s were made in Canada anyway.
Clove cigarettes are a completely different breed. Absolutely rank and disgusting as far as I'm concerned. And with no nicotine hit either. Useless.
I of course don't smoke anymore, having quit in 1982, 1993, 1998, 2002 ...
But really for good this time.
Post a Comment