Tuesday night
I was one of many domestic servants working for Humphrey Bogart in his house. Among other duties, I was responsible for cleaning cat shit off of his bed. That may have been why he liked me. This evening there was a party going on downstairs, but Bogie was upstairs, hanging out with me, instead, and he was wearing a silk bathrobe, or smoking jacket. At one point one of the guests got a little carried away, and Bogie had to go downstairs and slap him around a bit. I didn't see that part, but he came back a little while later to hang out with me. He knew me, so he could let down his guard and be himself. I said, "So, what's your favorite among all of your films?" I was expecting him to choose one of his classics from the 1940s, but he surprised me; he picked an obscure horror film. He said he made it in 1939.
*****
It's not every night that you meet your favorite actor.
This past weekend, after my wife and I toured a plantation in Franklin, TN with my father-in-law, we stopped in at an antique shop and browsed around for awhile. There I found a book that Katharine Hepburn wrote in the 1980s about the making of "The African Queen," her 1951 film with Bogart. It featured many photographs taken on and off of the set, including a few of Bogie and "Betty" Bacall having breakfast in their bathrobes. I clean a cat box (nearly) every night, so that's a part of daily life around here; that would probably explain why I mixed Bogart in smoking jacket and cleaning up after a cat. Then again, I might have been thinking about the cat that belongs to my sister-in-law, Dawn; his name is Humphries...
For me, the most fascinating part of this dream is the fact that I got the year right for Bogart's only horror film. It was made in 1939, and was called "The Return of Dr. X." I've never seen it, but have seen some stills from it. This information may have been floating around in my head because I read an article in "Entertainment Weekly" some time in the past 6 months in which Tim Burton said that he modeled Johnny Depp's look as "Sweeny Todd" in part after Bogart's "Dr. X." Both characters wore white pancake makeup and sported black hair with a groovy white streak.
By the way, I got a kick out of the back flap of Hepburn's book. It read, "Katharine Hepburn is an actress. She lives in Connecticut. This is her first book."
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
In Their Defense / The Next Best Thing
Monday night
Dream 1: In Their Defense
I was having a conversation with a black woman about the Air Force. She seemed to be disparaging their contribution(s), compared to other branches of the military. She said, "You fly someplace, then you walk out of the plane. That's not such a big deal." I countered, "If they have to fly around the world to deliver supplies or something, I'm sure it's awfully fatiguing. It's not like they can stop the plane [half way] and get out."
Dream 2: The Next Best Thing
Somehow I was able to buy the house across from 3374 on Dinwiddie Street, so I could always look across the street at the home where I grew up. At this point my parents' house had changed; it was two stories higher in the front, and the maple tree in the front yard was much larger, too. In contrast, I was moving into a single-story ranch-style house, but I was pretty satisfied with the whole thing, anyway. I thought, "Now, Mom can call me up whenever she wants me to talk to me about her garden, and I'll always be here for the neighborhood block parties."
A few relatives were helping me move in: my aunt Eunie (mom's sister) and my dad's aunt "Outie." At one point Eunie and Outie found themselves in a room on the right side of the house (to your right if you were walking up to the front door). Eunie wanted to speak with Outie about a piece of family jewelery, but Outie was all business, and was focusing on the task at hand. She said, "I don't have time for that." She had other things that she had to do, so she reached out to give me a hug, and as I embraced her, I noticed how tiny she was. She had long gray hair which hung down past her shoulders. After saying goodbye, she walked back into the living room and met her horse, which was waiting there for her. She climbed up into the saddle, and rode outside.
*****
Dream 1: In Their Defense
It's pretty odd for me to be defending the military. I'm usually against most things that they are asked to do, but I supported sending the troops into Afghanistan.
Dream 2: The Next Best Thing
The people who bought my parents' old house did add one story, but I'm pretty sure that the change is not visible in the front of the house.
While my father-in-law was here this past weekend, we visited an old plantation in Franklin, TN, and saw some very large old trees on the grounds. When we got home, we found websites that featured pictures and locations of the largest "champion" trees in Nashville, and in Arlington. I suppose that that's why the maple in the front yard was extra large in this dream.
Outie got her name because when her youngest brother (my grandfather) was born, he pronounced Ruthie as "Outie." Outie was born in the early 1890s, so to me, she was always ancient, even when she came to visit us during beach vacations in the 1970s. She became a little addled in her later years, and lived until 1989. I never remember her being a forceful woman, as she was in this episode. I don't recall ever seeing her with long hair, or going without eyeglasses. (She wasn't wearing glasses in this dream.) And I never saw her with a horse, although she must have seen plenty of them in her youth.
Eunie was always fun to be around. She and I always talked about our shared interest in birdwatching. She and Outie probably met only once, at my parents' wedding in Washington, D.C., in 1957. Eunie passed away five years ago tomorrow.
Dream 1: In Their Defense
I was having a conversation with a black woman about the Air Force. She seemed to be disparaging their contribution(s), compared to other branches of the military. She said, "You fly someplace, then you walk out of the plane. That's not such a big deal." I countered, "If they have to fly around the world to deliver supplies or something, I'm sure it's awfully fatiguing. It's not like they can stop the plane [half way] and get out."
Dream 2: The Next Best Thing
Somehow I was able to buy the house across from 3374 on Dinwiddie Street, so I could always look across the street at the home where I grew up. At this point my parents' house had changed; it was two stories higher in the front, and the maple tree in the front yard was much larger, too. In contrast, I was moving into a single-story ranch-style house, but I was pretty satisfied with the whole thing, anyway. I thought, "Now, Mom can call me up whenever she wants me to talk to me about her garden, and I'll always be here for the neighborhood block parties."
A few relatives were helping me move in: my aunt Eunie (mom's sister) and my dad's aunt "Outie." At one point Eunie and Outie found themselves in a room on the right side of the house (to your right if you were walking up to the front door). Eunie wanted to speak with Outie about a piece of family jewelery, but Outie was all business, and was focusing on the task at hand. She said, "I don't have time for that." She had other things that she had to do, so she reached out to give me a hug, and as I embraced her, I noticed how tiny she was. She had long gray hair which hung down past her shoulders. After saying goodbye, she walked back into the living room and met her horse, which was waiting there for her. She climbed up into the saddle, and rode outside.
*****
Dream 1: In Their Defense
It's pretty odd for me to be defending the military. I'm usually against most things that they are asked to do, but I supported sending the troops into Afghanistan.
Dream 2: The Next Best Thing
The people who bought my parents' old house did add one story, but I'm pretty sure that the change is not visible in the front of the house.
While my father-in-law was here this past weekend, we visited an old plantation in Franklin, TN, and saw some very large old trees on the grounds. When we got home, we found websites that featured pictures and locations of the largest "champion" trees in Nashville, and in Arlington. I suppose that that's why the maple in the front yard was extra large in this dream.
Outie got her name because when her youngest brother (my grandfather) was born, he pronounced Ruthie as "Outie." Outie was born in the early 1890s, so to me, she was always ancient, even when she came to visit us during beach vacations in the 1970s. She became a little addled in her later years, and lived until 1989. I never remember her being a forceful woman, as she was in this episode. I don't recall ever seeing her with long hair, or going without eyeglasses. (She wasn't wearing glasses in this dream.) And I never saw her with a horse, although she must have seen plenty of them in her youth.
Eunie was always fun to be around. She and I always talked about our shared interest in birdwatching. She and Outie probably met only once, at my parents' wedding in Washington, D.C., in 1957. Eunie passed away five years ago tomorrow.
Jet / The Great Beyond
Sunday night
Dream 1: Jet
I was dating one of my coworkers, and we decided to take a spur-of-the-moment trip to London for the weekend. We walked along the tarmac toward the plane, marveling at the cost and the speed -- "It'll get us there in 20 minutes! And it's so cheap!" Still, I was feeling some pangs of guilt, because my mom was in the hospital, and I'd be out of pocket, having fun.
Dream 2: The Great Beyond
A scientist was making a presentation to a group, explaining how, as far as he was concerned, the most exciting thing ever would be to explore the outer reaches of space, to see what's out there. He turned off the lights and showed a color, animated film about space exploration -- particularly trips to the stars -- which alternated between mathematical formulas shown in white on a dark background and images of zooming to the stars themselves. His point was that he didn't want to wait until his life was over to develop the technologies to do such things; he wanted to do them now.
*****
Dream 2: The Great Beyond
My father in law was here for a visit this weekend, and we spent some time sitting on the back porch, discussing the stars. I asked him if he thought that there was life on any other planets. He said he had no idea, but didn't see why not.
The film we watched reminded me a little of the animated Disney science films we watched in elementary school. I always enjoyed those. I bet no elementary school kids are watching them now.
Dream 1: Jet
I was dating one of my coworkers, and we decided to take a spur-of-the-moment trip to London for the weekend. We walked along the tarmac toward the plane, marveling at the cost and the speed -- "It'll get us there in 20 minutes! And it's so cheap!" Still, I was feeling some pangs of guilt, because my mom was in the hospital, and I'd be out of pocket, having fun.
Dream 2: The Great Beyond
A scientist was making a presentation to a group, explaining how, as far as he was concerned, the most exciting thing ever would be to explore the outer reaches of space, to see what's out there. He turned off the lights and showed a color, animated film about space exploration -- particularly trips to the stars -- which alternated between mathematical formulas shown in white on a dark background and images of zooming to the stars themselves. His point was that he didn't want to wait until his life was over to develop the technologies to do such things; he wanted to do them now.
*****
Dream 2: The Great Beyond
My father in law was here for a visit this weekend, and we spent some time sitting on the back porch, discussing the stars. I asked him if he thought that there was life on any other planets. He said he had no idea, but didn't see why not.
The film we watched reminded me a little of the animated Disney science films we watched in elementary school. I always enjoyed those. I bet no elementary school kids are watching them now.
The Undersea World / Movin' Out
Saturday night
Dream 1: The Undersea World
Gordy S. was a college student, and I was heading over to visit him in his dorm room. We were planning to watch a documentary about the sea on his TV.
Dream 2: Movin' Out
I packed up my stuff and moved out of the townhouse where I had been living, on Hyson Lane in Falls Church, VA, but planned to make one more trip back to clean up. I was glad to be getting out of there -- the other renters were out of control. I went out to a restaurant, some type of cafeteria, later the same afternoon, and one of my ex-roommates showed up. She was a heavy-set woman. She and a friend of hers, a heavy-set guy, sat down across from me and they greeted each other with a pretty gross clinch and a kiss. Anyway, she informed me that the cops had just busted a party at her place, and several of my former housemates were in the drunk tank. I'd escaped just in time to avoid that craziness.
*****
Dream 1: The Undersea World
We enjoyed our copy of the BBC DVD series "Planet Earth" so much that we recently bought the BBC documentary "The Blue Planet," which is also narrated by Sir David Attenborough. I'm looking forward to seeing it.
Dream 2: Movin' Out
I was telling a young coworker the other day about some of my strange former roommates at Hyson Lane. I lived there for the better part of 10 years, and can't remember how many people I saw come and go through the front door. Oftentimes I'd be saying, "Well, I'll miss you," when I really meant, "Well, I'll sure miss your rug and your TV!"
Dream 1: The Undersea World
Gordy S. was a college student, and I was heading over to visit him in his dorm room. We were planning to watch a documentary about the sea on his TV.
Dream 2: Movin' Out
I packed up my stuff and moved out of the townhouse where I had been living, on Hyson Lane in Falls Church, VA, but planned to make one more trip back to clean up. I was glad to be getting out of there -- the other renters were out of control. I went out to a restaurant, some type of cafeteria, later the same afternoon, and one of my ex-roommates showed up. She was a heavy-set woman. She and a friend of hers, a heavy-set guy, sat down across from me and they greeted each other with a pretty gross clinch and a kiss. Anyway, she informed me that the cops had just busted a party at her place, and several of my former housemates were in the drunk tank. I'd escaped just in time to avoid that craziness.
*****
Dream 1: The Undersea World
We enjoyed our copy of the BBC DVD series "Planet Earth" so much that we recently bought the BBC documentary "The Blue Planet," which is also narrated by Sir David Attenborough. I'm looking forward to seeing it.
Dream 2: Movin' Out
I was telling a young coworker the other day about some of my strange former roommates at Hyson Lane. I lived there for the better part of 10 years, and can't remember how many people I saw come and go through the front door. Oftentimes I'd be saying, "Well, I'll miss you," when I really meant, "Well, I'll sure miss your rug and your TV!"
Monday, April 28, 2008
Come On Down! / Sartorial Disapprobation
Friday night
Dream 1: Come On Down!
I was in an auditorium, in the audience, waiting for a stage show to begin. I was there to see a variety show, performed by many of my coworkers. As I found a seat, I looked to my right, and saw some guys dressed in funny outfits; some of them were in drag. They were a bit embarrassed to be seen that way with the house lights up, but they wanted to sit in the audience to catch the early part of the show. They were to go on later.
The night's entertainment began with a one-man comedy routine, and it didn't go over well. In fact, he was lousy; so lousy that he decided to cut the jokes and turn his spot into some sort of game show segment. He brought out Deuce, a balding, gregarious black man, who appeared to be in his late 30s or early 40s. He was the first contestant. Deuce looked out into the audience and saw me, and to my surprise, he laid down a mock-boastful challenge. He called out, "You Better Come Down Here!" I did as he requested, and eagerly ran down the aisle that was to the left of the center section. Once I got on the stage, our host had two "machines" wheeled out from stage left (to the right of the audience). These machines were tall, thin, and seemed to be made of white porcelain. They resembled nothing more than early 20th century gas pumps, and were equipped with handles. They extended from the floor to the ceiling, and each had a window in the center that was about 8 inches square.
It was Deuce's turn to go first. He was to pull the lever on his machine and look in the window. There he would see a word puzzle; more accurately, he'd see several lines of letters. All he had to do was find a word in the seemingly random letters, and call it out. If he found one in the alloted time period, he was given a chance to find another word. If he failed, it would be my turn.
While Deuce was looking for his first word, I tried to get my machine to work, but it wouldn't. I found a coin slot on the right side, so I fished in my pocket and found a nickel. I dropped it in the slot, but nothing happened. Next, I found a dime; I put it in the machine, but got the same result. I looked even closer at my machine, and noticed very old coins at the bottom of the window, including a Morgan silver dollar. It was then that I realized that the machine required dollar coins. I found one in my pocket, put it in the slot, pulled the handle, and finally got my grid. It didn't matter. Deuce was so good at finding words, I wasn't going to get a turn any time soon.
Dream 2: Sartorial Disapprobation
I walked into a bookstore and was surprised to find an old high school- and poker tournament friend, Steve B., standing behind the counter. He was wearing a light-colored sport coat; it was either white or yellow. He appeared to be the manager on duty, and took his work seriously. I was wearing my customary comfortable clothes, including my jeans and a wool stocking cap that my wife recently knitted for me. I walked up and said, "Hey. How long have you been working here?" He replied, "As a matter of fact, I started on 9/11." He seemed to be looking at my hat, and I could tell that he didn't like it. He said, "Are you going to wear that [in here]? People DO care..." I said, "Gimme a break, Steve," and I walked out of the store. Once I got to the parking lot, I changed my mind. He wasn't going to get me to leave simply because he didn't dig my hat. I walked back in and found a computer which I used to start typing entries into my blog.
*****
Dream 1: Come On Down!
It occurs to me that I have many dreams that take place in theaters or auditoriums. I think that I became mesmerized by plays when I was quite young, and have always enjoyed the theater-going experience. Even school variety shows always knocked me out.
The "machines" in this dream appear to be more like one-armed bandits than gas pumps. Before long I'll be back in Virginia for Round 2 of this year's poker tournament, so gambling may have crossed my mind.
Deuce seems to be a very friendly fellow. I've only spoken with him briefly once or twice, but I've seen him in plenty of meetings, and have witnessed many challenges made between his group and other departments, goading each other toward sales goals, or to make money for charity. He seems to be a good-natured fellow.
Dream 2: Sartorial Disapprobation
Steve was a close friend for a long time, part of our regular high school gang, and took part in our poker tournament for 11 years (from 1988-1998). He stopped playing after that, for various reasons, and I haven't seen him since. It's strange that someone can be such a regular presence in your life for 15 or 20 years, and then they can be gone. It's strange to think that I haven't seen Steve in this century. Every so often I hear that that he might make an appearance at a gathering, but it never happens. We still get Christmas cards from the family. He has gray hair now. His hair was brown in the dream.
Dream 1: Come On Down!
I was in an auditorium, in the audience, waiting for a stage show to begin. I was there to see a variety show, performed by many of my coworkers. As I found a seat, I looked to my right, and saw some guys dressed in funny outfits; some of them were in drag. They were a bit embarrassed to be seen that way with the house lights up, but they wanted to sit in the audience to catch the early part of the show. They were to go on later.
The night's entertainment began with a one-man comedy routine, and it didn't go over well. In fact, he was lousy; so lousy that he decided to cut the jokes and turn his spot into some sort of game show segment. He brought out Deuce, a balding, gregarious black man, who appeared to be in his late 30s or early 40s. He was the first contestant. Deuce looked out into the audience and saw me, and to my surprise, he laid down a mock-boastful challenge. He called out, "You Better Come Down Here!" I did as he requested, and eagerly ran down the aisle that was to the left of the center section. Once I got on the stage, our host had two "machines" wheeled out from stage left (to the right of the audience). These machines were tall, thin, and seemed to be made of white porcelain. They resembled nothing more than early 20th century gas pumps, and were equipped with handles. They extended from the floor to the ceiling, and each had a window in the center that was about 8 inches square.
It was Deuce's turn to go first. He was to pull the lever on his machine and look in the window. There he would see a word puzzle; more accurately, he'd see several lines of letters. All he had to do was find a word in the seemingly random letters, and call it out. If he found one in the alloted time period, he was given a chance to find another word. If he failed, it would be my turn.
While Deuce was looking for his first word, I tried to get my machine to work, but it wouldn't. I found a coin slot on the right side, so I fished in my pocket and found a nickel. I dropped it in the slot, but nothing happened. Next, I found a dime; I put it in the machine, but got the same result. I looked even closer at my machine, and noticed very old coins at the bottom of the window, including a Morgan silver dollar. It was then that I realized that the machine required dollar coins. I found one in my pocket, put it in the slot, pulled the handle, and finally got my grid. It didn't matter. Deuce was so good at finding words, I wasn't going to get a turn any time soon.
Dream 2: Sartorial Disapprobation
I walked into a bookstore and was surprised to find an old high school- and poker tournament friend, Steve B., standing behind the counter. He was wearing a light-colored sport coat; it was either white or yellow. He appeared to be the manager on duty, and took his work seriously. I was wearing my customary comfortable clothes, including my jeans and a wool stocking cap that my wife recently knitted for me. I walked up and said, "Hey. How long have you been working here?" He replied, "As a matter of fact, I started on 9/11." He seemed to be looking at my hat, and I could tell that he didn't like it. He said, "Are you going to wear that [in here]? People DO care..." I said, "Gimme a break, Steve," and I walked out of the store. Once I got to the parking lot, I changed my mind. He wasn't going to get me to leave simply because he didn't dig my hat. I walked back in and found a computer which I used to start typing entries into my blog.
*****
Dream 1: Come On Down!
It occurs to me that I have many dreams that take place in theaters or auditoriums. I think that I became mesmerized by plays when I was quite young, and have always enjoyed the theater-going experience. Even school variety shows always knocked me out.
The "machines" in this dream appear to be more like one-armed bandits than gas pumps. Before long I'll be back in Virginia for Round 2 of this year's poker tournament, so gambling may have crossed my mind.
Deuce seems to be a very friendly fellow. I've only spoken with him briefly once or twice, but I've seen him in plenty of meetings, and have witnessed many challenges made between his group and other departments, goading each other toward sales goals, or to make money for charity. He seems to be a good-natured fellow.
Dream 2: Sartorial Disapprobation
Steve was a close friend for a long time, part of our regular high school gang, and took part in our poker tournament for 11 years (from 1988-1998). He stopped playing after that, for various reasons, and I haven't seen him since. It's strange that someone can be such a regular presence in your life for 15 or 20 years, and then they can be gone. It's strange to think that I haven't seen Steve in this century. Every so often I hear that that he might make an appearance at a gathering, but it never happens. We still get Christmas cards from the family. He has gray hair now. His hair was brown in the dream.
Friday, April 25, 2008
'holes
Thursday night
Rod S. was the editor of a newspaper, and I was in his newsroom. I overheard him say, "Al Neuharth was surprised to hear that we put him in the news hole [this week]."
*****
As all two of my readers are aware, Rod S. was my boss at a foundation where I was employed for 10 years. He is a former newspaper editor.
Al Neuharth is the founder of the foundation mentioned above, or at least he's the founder of what that foundation became, after morphing away from the real founder's original intent. I never thought much of Neuharth, a guy who had his own elevator constructed at great expense so he wouldn't have to ride with the rank and file. He also had a giant bust of himself (his head was about as tall as I am) installed at Gannett headquarters. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. It was a ridiculous thing. Who does that? Napoleon? I heard that they conveniently got rid of it when they moved to their new HQ in McLean, VA.
Newspapers are assembled like jigsaw puzzles. The news hole is what is left after the ads are mapped out.
Rod S. was the editor of a newspaper, and I was in his newsroom. I overheard him say, "Al Neuharth was surprised to hear that we put him in the news hole [this week]."
*****
As all two of my readers are aware, Rod S. was my boss at a foundation where I was employed for 10 years. He is a former newspaper editor.
Al Neuharth is the founder of the foundation mentioned above, or at least he's the founder of what that foundation became, after morphing away from the real founder's original intent. I never thought much of Neuharth, a guy who had his own elevator constructed at great expense so he wouldn't have to ride with the rank and file. He also had a giant bust of himself (his head was about as tall as I am) installed at Gannett headquarters. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. It was a ridiculous thing. Who does that? Napoleon? I heard that they conveniently got rid of it when they moved to their new HQ in McLean, VA.
Newspapers are assembled like jigsaw puzzles. The news hole is what is left after the ads are mapped out.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Time to Go
Wednesday night
I was in dire need of a toilet, so I ran into a hotel and desperately yelled at the clerk, "Do You Have a Bathroom?" She pointed to a room and said, "You can use the one in there!" I ran through the suite, into the bathroom, and did my business. Once I was through, I walked back out into the room, while buckling my belt. For some reason, at that point I wasn't wearing a shirt. Thinking that the suite had been vacant (and not having had a moment to have a look around to determine otherwise) I was startled when a voice boomed, "What are you doing in my room?!" (It came from an indignant man, about 40, who wore a suit and a thin mustache.) I stammered and pointed: "She told me I could run in here and use the bathroom!" He didn't believe me, and had determined that I was a thief. He summoned the clerk (who seemed to be having second thoughts) and a policeman. In the meantime, I had to strip off all of my clothes to prove that I wasn't hiding anything, and sat (legs crossed) on a chair while the hotel guest inventoried his belongings. Once the policeman arrived, he grilled me about what I was doing there. At one point the clerk said, "Well, you have to admit that he's playing the part [of an innocent] well." Finally, I'd had about enough of this ridiculous situation, and I said to the guest, "Did you check to see that you have all of your money?" He said, "Oh! Right!" and looked through his drawer and suitcase and found that he did. At that point the officer asked me for my address, and I gave it to him. I added, "It's near the Maxwell House hotel." Satisfied that I was a local, he let me go.
*****
This is the sort of madcap comedy of errors that is reminiscent of the British TV series "Jeeves and Wooster." My wife and I recently bought a box set of the complete series, and have been watching it off and on for the past three weeks.
My wife had some Maxwell House coffee at the home of my brother and sister-in-law in Georgia this past weekend.
I was in dire need of a toilet, so I ran into a hotel and desperately yelled at the clerk, "Do You Have a Bathroom?" She pointed to a room and said, "You can use the one in there!" I ran through the suite, into the bathroom, and did my business. Once I was through, I walked back out into the room, while buckling my belt. For some reason, at that point I wasn't wearing a shirt. Thinking that the suite had been vacant (and not having had a moment to have a look around to determine otherwise) I was startled when a voice boomed, "What are you doing in my room?!" (It came from an indignant man, about 40, who wore a suit and a thin mustache.) I stammered and pointed: "She told me I could run in here and use the bathroom!" He didn't believe me, and had determined that I was a thief. He summoned the clerk (who seemed to be having second thoughts) and a policeman. In the meantime, I had to strip off all of my clothes to prove that I wasn't hiding anything, and sat (legs crossed) on a chair while the hotel guest inventoried his belongings. Once the policeman arrived, he grilled me about what I was doing there. At one point the clerk said, "Well, you have to admit that he's playing the part [of an innocent] well." Finally, I'd had about enough of this ridiculous situation, and I said to the guest, "Did you check to see that you have all of your money?" He said, "Oh! Right!" and looked through his drawer and suitcase and found that he did. At that point the officer asked me for my address, and I gave it to him. I added, "It's near the Maxwell House hotel." Satisfied that I was a local, he let me go.
*****
This is the sort of madcap comedy of errors that is reminiscent of the British TV series "Jeeves and Wooster." My wife and I recently bought a box set of the complete series, and have been watching it off and on for the past three weeks.
My wife had some Maxwell House coffee at the home of my brother and sister-in-law in Georgia this past weekend.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The Objector / PJs
Tuesday Night
Dream 1: The Objector
I was looking at a very old black and white photograph of what appeared to be a close-up of some sort of military guards with down-turned helmets, complete with some sort of tassles and leather chin straps. Upon further inspection, I realized that I wasn't looking at helmets at all; instead, I was looking at the back ends of several horses gathered for a solemn military event; their tails had been outfitted in (and were surrounded by) some special leather finery, only worn on the most important occasions. This photograph was taken on such an occasion.
Suddenly I was inside the picture, and it began to move. The horses belonged to Union Army officers, who sat upon their backs, several in a row. Nearby, to their left, stood the Army regulars, ready to witness the hanging of one of their own. A soldier in a blue uniform was about to be executed for taking part in a plan to steal a great deal of Army supplies -- weapons, ammunition, rations -- and sell them on the black market. The condemned man was standing on the ground; he was to be hung, but not on a platform. The apparatus that would kill him was some sort of a pulley system including ropes coming in from his left and right, which would hoist him in the air while strangling him. The end result would be the same. The man who was to be executed was talkative at first, but as the minutes ticked away, he said, "I just want this to be over." I couldn't watch, and turned away, as did several others. We began to walk back toward a two-story wooden frame house, which was used as some sort of a barrack. As I did so, I could hear a man behind me, screaming: "It isn't right!" I thought it was the accused, but it wasn't. The protests came from a very religious young man in the crowd, who had a Southern accent.
Several soldiers had walked with me back to the house before the deed was done. After the execution, the religious onlooker, a very thin man, and very earnest, came running in. He was agitated, and seemed quite offended that we could be going on with our business as if nothing monumental had happened. I was on the landing leading up to the second floor when he arrived. He called out for all to hear: "A Man Is Dead! Let's Pray For His Soul!"
The next thing I knew, I was in Mom and Dad's kitchen on Dinwiddie Street, and I was bent down, looking for something in the cabinet beneath the sink. My friend Ed B. was there, and he asked me if I'd had any dreams lately. I said, "As a matter of fact, I have..." and began to tell him about this one, when Mom walked into the room. She saw Ed and recognized him, and immediately engaged him in conversation. (They knew each other, so formalities weren't necessary.) Looking at Ed, she said, "My favorite PBS program has just been taken off the air!" We never finished talking about the dream.
Suddenly, I was in a PBS television studio, but it didn't look like any TV studio I'd seen before. It was more like a small, comfortable room, with brick walls. I was one of several people taking a tour of the facilities. A guide explained that this was the set where [magician] Doug Henning used to film his program. All of us instinctively began to imitate him and his big rabbit teeth.
Dream 2: PJs
I was visiting my dad at his apartment in Arlington, and my brother Andrew was there, too. I was about to go out to the store, and wanted to know if anyone needed anything. It was difficult to get Dad's attention. He wasn't watching TV, he just seemed to be staring out into space. I got the impression that he was showing early signs of Alzheimer's Disease. Suddenly he grabbed a piece of paper, and began drawing what I thought was a sport coat. I said, "You want me to get you a suit? What size is it? What twill?" He didn't want a suit; he wanted me to get him some pajamas, and handed the paper to me. I said, "What are the measurements?" He took back the page and wrote some numbers at the neck and on the sleeve. He told me to get some pajamas for Andrew's mother- and father-in-law while I was there, too. At that point I was exasperated. I said, "But what about the measurements for those?"
Next, Dad was in a hospital ward, adjacent to a retirement home. He was wearing a hospital gown, and was surrounded by a group of older men, all dressed similarly. There was one exception. A young man, maybe 30, if that, was there, too. He and Dad were being tested for the same affliction(s), and they had become friends.
Later, I was walking down a hill to the same hospital. I passed the grounds of the senior living center, and saw several people who lived there sitting outside. Some were in chairs, others in wheelchairs. I overheard one caregiver say to one of the residents, "We take care of you on this side [in the retirement community], but we have nothing to do with the people who move over there [to the hospital ward]."
As I walked through the door to the hospital, I said to myself, "I'm 50. Should I reserve a place for myself at the senior living center? Should I move in now?"
*****
Dream 1: The Objector
Last night I was flipping the channels around while waiting for late results of the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary when I came across an episode of Boston Legal. One of the lawyers was standing before the Supreme Court, arguing forcefully against the use of capital punishment in Louisiana for a man with an IQ of 70. He spoke forcefully about the fact that more blacks are executed than any other group, about how the system favors the wealthy over the poor, etc.
This dream may also have been influenced by the song "Tom Dooley" by the Kingston trio, which is about a man who is due to hang the next morning. I played it the other day, and always assumed that it was set in the 19th century. Recently I've made a series of Beatles CDs for a friend at work who is unfamiliar with their music. I've followed up by writing up some bits of information and trivia about the songs. In order to do this, I've read up on some of their recording sessions and lyrics, recently including "A Day in the Life." That could be why, in this dream, "a crowd of people turned away."
Mom always did love PBS, and I enjoyed watching some of the classics on "Masterpiece Theater" with her, such as "Upstairs, Downstairs," "Miss Marple," etc.
Doug Henning never had a PBS show that I can remember, but he did have big rabbit teeth.
On a more serious note, the objector seems to represent the conscience of all of us who turn our backs and go about our business as executions are being carried out on our behalf. Myself included, of course.
Dream 2: PJs
My dad's 82, and we boys are concerned about his health, and about his ability to pay for proper care in the long run. We've been trying to arrange a conference call to talk about how we'll plan for the possibilities. At the same time, I'm increasingly attentive to my own health, and to the long-term financial well-being of my family here in Nashville. My dad's situation is a real eye-opener; in order to have a healthy and happy retirement, we've got to have all of our ducks in a row right now.
My exasperation over Dad not providing the missing sizes for the pajamas is directly related to the fact that my boss is very demanding, yet rarely gives me the details that I need to implement her plans.
The last sentence or two of this dream comes from the fact that Dad's sister moved into a senior living center before she had to, simply because the spaces didn't come up that often, and she wanted to be sure to get one. She'd passed one up the first time, so when she heard about an opening the second time, she took it. She thought ahead.
It's odd that I'd dream that I'm 50; I won't be that age for another 4 years, 3 months and a couple of weeks.
It's odder still that the word "twill" surfaced in this dream. I can't recall ever saying or writing that word, and I certainly never dreamed it before. I'm pretty sure that Mom mentioned it to me on a few occasions, and I filed it away.
Dream 1: The Objector
I was looking at a very old black and white photograph of what appeared to be a close-up of some sort of military guards with down-turned helmets, complete with some sort of tassles and leather chin straps. Upon further inspection, I realized that I wasn't looking at helmets at all; instead, I was looking at the back ends of several horses gathered for a solemn military event; their tails had been outfitted in (and were surrounded by) some special leather finery, only worn on the most important occasions. This photograph was taken on such an occasion.
Suddenly I was inside the picture, and it began to move. The horses belonged to Union Army officers, who sat upon their backs, several in a row. Nearby, to their left, stood the Army regulars, ready to witness the hanging of one of their own. A soldier in a blue uniform was about to be executed for taking part in a plan to steal a great deal of Army supplies -- weapons, ammunition, rations -- and sell them on the black market. The condemned man was standing on the ground; he was to be hung, but not on a platform. The apparatus that would kill him was some sort of a pulley system including ropes coming in from his left and right, which would hoist him in the air while strangling him. The end result would be the same. The man who was to be executed was talkative at first, but as the minutes ticked away, he said, "I just want this to be over." I couldn't watch, and turned away, as did several others. We began to walk back toward a two-story wooden frame house, which was used as some sort of a barrack. As I did so, I could hear a man behind me, screaming: "It isn't right!" I thought it was the accused, but it wasn't. The protests came from a very religious young man in the crowd, who had a Southern accent.
Several soldiers had walked with me back to the house before the deed was done. After the execution, the religious onlooker, a very thin man, and very earnest, came running in. He was agitated, and seemed quite offended that we could be going on with our business as if nothing monumental had happened. I was on the landing leading up to the second floor when he arrived. He called out for all to hear: "A Man Is Dead! Let's Pray For His Soul!"
The next thing I knew, I was in Mom and Dad's kitchen on Dinwiddie Street, and I was bent down, looking for something in the cabinet beneath the sink. My friend Ed B. was there, and he asked me if I'd had any dreams lately. I said, "As a matter of fact, I have..." and began to tell him about this one, when Mom walked into the room. She saw Ed and recognized him, and immediately engaged him in conversation. (They knew each other, so formalities weren't necessary.) Looking at Ed, she said, "My favorite PBS program has just been taken off the air!" We never finished talking about the dream.
Suddenly, I was in a PBS television studio, but it didn't look like any TV studio I'd seen before. It was more like a small, comfortable room, with brick walls. I was one of several people taking a tour of the facilities. A guide explained that this was the set where [magician] Doug Henning used to film his program. All of us instinctively began to imitate him and his big rabbit teeth.
Dream 2: PJs
I was visiting my dad at his apartment in Arlington, and my brother Andrew was there, too. I was about to go out to the store, and wanted to know if anyone needed anything. It was difficult to get Dad's attention. He wasn't watching TV, he just seemed to be staring out into space. I got the impression that he was showing early signs of Alzheimer's Disease. Suddenly he grabbed a piece of paper, and began drawing what I thought was a sport coat. I said, "You want me to get you a suit? What size is it? What twill?" He didn't want a suit; he wanted me to get him some pajamas, and handed the paper to me. I said, "What are the measurements?" He took back the page and wrote some numbers at the neck and on the sleeve. He told me to get some pajamas for Andrew's mother- and father-in-law while I was there, too. At that point I was exasperated. I said, "But what about the measurements for those?"
Next, Dad was in a hospital ward, adjacent to a retirement home. He was wearing a hospital gown, and was surrounded by a group of older men, all dressed similarly. There was one exception. A young man, maybe 30, if that, was there, too. He and Dad were being tested for the same affliction(s), and they had become friends.
Later, I was walking down a hill to the same hospital. I passed the grounds of the senior living center, and saw several people who lived there sitting outside. Some were in chairs, others in wheelchairs. I overheard one caregiver say to one of the residents, "We take care of you on this side [in the retirement community], but we have nothing to do with the people who move over there [to the hospital ward]."
As I walked through the door to the hospital, I said to myself, "I'm 50. Should I reserve a place for myself at the senior living center? Should I move in now?"
*****
Dream 1: The Objector
Last night I was flipping the channels around while waiting for late results of the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary when I came across an episode of Boston Legal. One of the lawyers was standing before the Supreme Court, arguing forcefully against the use of capital punishment in Louisiana for a man with an IQ of 70. He spoke forcefully about the fact that more blacks are executed than any other group, about how the system favors the wealthy over the poor, etc.
This dream may also have been influenced by the song "Tom Dooley" by the Kingston trio, which is about a man who is due to hang the next morning. I played it the other day, and always assumed that it was set in the 19th century. Recently I've made a series of Beatles CDs for a friend at work who is unfamiliar with their music. I've followed up by writing up some bits of information and trivia about the songs. In order to do this, I've read up on some of their recording sessions and lyrics, recently including "A Day in the Life." That could be why, in this dream, "a crowd of people turned away."
Mom always did love PBS, and I enjoyed watching some of the classics on "Masterpiece Theater" with her, such as "Upstairs, Downstairs," "Miss Marple," etc.
Doug Henning never had a PBS show that I can remember, but he did have big rabbit teeth.
On a more serious note, the objector seems to represent the conscience of all of us who turn our backs and go about our business as executions are being carried out on our behalf. Myself included, of course.
Dream 2: PJs
My dad's 82, and we boys are concerned about his health, and about his ability to pay for proper care in the long run. We've been trying to arrange a conference call to talk about how we'll plan for the possibilities. At the same time, I'm increasingly attentive to my own health, and to the long-term financial well-being of my family here in Nashville. My dad's situation is a real eye-opener; in order to have a healthy and happy retirement, we've got to have all of our ducks in a row right now.
My exasperation over Dad not providing the missing sizes for the pajamas is directly related to the fact that my boss is very demanding, yet rarely gives me the details that I need to implement her plans.
The last sentence or two of this dream comes from the fact that Dad's sister moved into a senior living center before she had to, simply because the spaces didn't come up that often, and she wanted to be sure to get one. She'd passed one up the first time, so when she heard about an opening the second time, she took it. She thought ahead.
It's odd that I'd dream that I'm 50; I won't be that age for another 4 years, 3 months and a couple of weeks.
It's odder still that the word "twill" surfaced in this dream. I can't recall ever saying or writing that word, and I certainly never dreamed it before. I'm pretty sure that Mom mentioned it to me on a few occasions, and I filed it away.
Chance Meeting
Saturday night (in Georgia)
My wife and I had parked the car and were walking through a parking lot on our way to see a Nick Lowe concert when, over to our right, I saw Nick Lowe himself taking his belongings out of his trunk. I called out, "Hi Nick!" and he waved at me.
*****
Lowe's hair was much darker in this dream than it is now, but had one grayish-white patch.
I did see Nick play a show on Monday night, at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville. The parking lot in this dream wasn't the one at the Belcourt, however; it appeared to be the one in front of the local Target.
My wife and I had parked the car and were walking through a parking lot on our way to see a Nick Lowe concert when, over to our right, I saw Nick Lowe himself taking his belongings out of his trunk. I called out, "Hi Nick!" and he waved at me.
*****
Lowe's hair was much darker in this dream than it is now, but had one grayish-white patch.
I did see Nick play a show on Monday night, at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville. The parking lot in this dream wasn't the one at the Belcourt, however; it appeared to be the one in front of the local Target.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Desperate
Thursday night
Two European men showed up at an American shipyard looking for employment. Neither spoke much English, and both carried letters of introduction. The first read, "My priest sent me to look for job." The second read, "God sent me to look for job."
*****
There's certainly some symbolism here that I can't quite make out, regarding fishermen, fishing for souls, etc. Then again, maybe they were mistaken, and were supposed to be looking for Job.
Two European men showed up at an American shipyard looking for employment. Neither spoke much English, and both carried letters of introduction. The first read, "My priest sent me to look for job." The second read, "God sent me to look for job."
*****
There's certainly some symbolism here that I can't quite make out, regarding fishermen, fishing for souls, etc. Then again, maybe they were mistaken, and were supposed to be looking for Job.
Sprechen Sie Deutsch? / Thrill of a Lifetime
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
I was at a festival or a theme park where native South Americans (meaning Indians, not Spaniards) in colorful dress were mingling with white actors wearing costumes, including wooden swords. They seemed to be preparing to put on a big outdoor show, off in the distance. While trying to get a better view, I came across a bench where a well-fed young German family of four sat, beaming, enjoying themselves very much. They were looking toward me, and not toward the "actors and extras" in the background. For a moment I thought about trying to communicate with them, by using some lame bits of half-remembered German from a high school class long ago -- such as, "Sein kinder?" After a period of brief reflection I thought better of it, and said nothing.
Dream 2: Thrill of a Lifetime
A woman was promoting her business, which was encouraging couples to get married in hot war zones. A memorable experience was sure to be had by all. I heard her admit, "Getting married in Bosnia [now] isn't as exciting as it was a few years ago." Next, I saw an elegantly-dressed wedding party ducking and running across a street, into a building on the right.
*****
Dream 1: Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
I did take two years of German, but was never any good at it. I can count to 100 in their language, but that's about it. I've always heard that the key to learning a language is to go to the country itself, and immerse yourself among the locals; sort of the "sink or swim" theory. I got a sense of that while staying with a friend of my girlfriend (and future wife) in Finland for a while. I picked up on certain phrases (thank you, etc.) and learned to say the proper words for strawberry ice cream. I got the sense that if I had no other choice, I might learn enough of their language to get by, just through repetition. Not that it would be easy, of course.
Dream 2: Thrill of a Lifetime
I suspect that this dream came out of Hillary Clinton's oft-repeated [bogus] story about evading sniper fire while on a trip to Bosnia as first lady.
Dream 1: Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
I was at a festival or a theme park where native South Americans (meaning Indians, not Spaniards) in colorful dress were mingling with white actors wearing costumes, including wooden swords. They seemed to be preparing to put on a big outdoor show, off in the distance. While trying to get a better view, I came across a bench where a well-fed young German family of four sat, beaming, enjoying themselves very much. They were looking toward me, and not toward the "actors and extras" in the background. For a moment I thought about trying to communicate with them, by using some lame bits of half-remembered German from a high school class long ago -- such as, "Sein kinder?" After a period of brief reflection I thought better of it, and said nothing.
Dream 2: Thrill of a Lifetime
A woman was promoting her business, which was encouraging couples to get married in hot war zones. A memorable experience was sure to be had by all. I heard her admit, "Getting married in Bosnia [now] isn't as exciting as it was a few years ago." Next, I saw an elegantly-dressed wedding party ducking and running across a street, into a building on the right.
*****
Dream 1: Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
I did take two years of German, but was never any good at it. I can count to 100 in their language, but that's about it. I've always heard that the key to learning a language is to go to the country itself, and immerse yourself among the locals; sort of the "sink or swim" theory. I got a sense of that while staying with a friend of my girlfriend (and future wife) in Finland for a while. I picked up on certain phrases (thank you, etc.) and learned to say the proper words for strawberry ice cream. I got the sense that if I had no other choice, I might learn enough of their language to get by, just through repetition. Not that it would be easy, of course.
Dream 2: Thrill of a Lifetime
I suspect that this dream came out of Hillary Clinton's oft-repeated [bogus] story about evading sniper fire while on a trip to Bosnia as first lady.
Monkee Mobile / Island Excursion / BTR
Tuesday night
Dream 1: Monkee Mobile
A father and son brought a special car to an auto show; they had created a smaller version of the "Monkee Mobile," the souped-up car that the Monkees used in the first season of their TV show -- or at least in the opening credits for said show. They even wore replicas of the brown button-down shirts that the group sported on their first album cover.
Dream 2: Island Excursion
I lived in Hawaii, and a buddy and I (he was a native Islander) were out paddling a canoe in beautiful, clear water. At one point, my friend glanced down to the ocean floor, and I could tell that he had noticed something down there that surprised him. He could see a microphone with a long cord, with some other attachments. The mic itself was yellow on the recording end. As if that wasn't strange enough, that very microphone had been a present that my fellow paddler had given to his mother. He realized that it must have worn out, and her way of disposing of it was to take it out and dump it in the ocean. He said, "That's what they did [how they handled their trash] when she was young." We decided that we'd have to dive down and get it.
In the meantime, my friend's dad, who was a Hawaiian king, even though Hawaii was a state, was off visiting a group of people in a long one-story building with a low roof. He was wearing a regular, off-white business suit, so you wouldn't know he was a king unless someone had told you, but he carried himself with dignity, and was admired. He stood on the far side of a long table, in the center position, and proceeded to perform a Catholic Mass for the assembled group, partially in Hawaiian, partly in English. When the ceremony was over, the king noticed a woman off to his right, and was surprised. He said, "I haven't seen you in 37 years!"
Dream 3: BTR
I was examining a rare copy of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" album. I pulled the record out of the jacket, and saw that the vinyl was in really nice shape. The real prize was the paper sleeve which protected the record. It was covered on both sides with very interesting, previously-unseen black and white photos of the band, from the mid-1970s.
*****
Dream 1: I grew up watching and listening to The Monkees. I have fond memories of their debut record and of their third album, "Headquarters."
Dream 2: Island Excursion
I may have thought about Hawaii after reading a recent article about Barack Obama's mother. Her father was a furniture salesman who had a habit of uprooting his family and moving them around the country. Shortly after Hawaii became a state (in 1959) he heard about the opening of a large furniture store there, and decided to move again. Barack's mother decided to go along, and shortly thereafter she enrolled in a university there for her freshman year of college. It was at that university that she met a fellow student, Barack Obama Sr.
The king in the white suit may have been a nod to Pope Benedict XVI, who is currently visiting the United States. He said Mass at a baseball stadium in Washington this week, and my brother and sister in law and two of their kids were able to obtain tickets and see him.
Dream 3: BTR
The vinyl version of "Born to Run" featured two large black and white photos: one of Bruce with Clarence (on the cover) and one of Bruce by himself on the inside of the gatefold. There were no photos on the record sleeve.
Dream 1: Monkee Mobile
A father and son brought a special car to an auto show; they had created a smaller version of the "Monkee Mobile," the souped-up car that the Monkees used in the first season of their TV show -- or at least in the opening credits for said show. They even wore replicas of the brown button-down shirts that the group sported on their first album cover.
Dream 2: Island Excursion
I lived in Hawaii, and a buddy and I (he was a native Islander) were out paddling a canoe in beautiful, clear water. At one point, my friend glanced down to the ocean floor, and I could tell that he had noticed something down there that surprised him. He could see a microphone with a long cord, with some other attachments. The mic itself was yellow on the recording end. As if that wasn't strange enough, that very microphone had been a present that my fellow paddler had given to his mother. He realized that it must have worn out, and her way of disposing of it was to take it out and dump it in the ocean. He said, "That's what they did [how they handled their trash] when she was young." We decided that we'd have to dive down and get it.
In the meantime, my friend's dad, who was a Hawaiian king, even though Hawaii was a state, was off visiting a group of people in a long one-story building with a low roof. He was wearing a regular, off-white business suit, so you wouldn't know he was a king unless someone had told you, but he carried himself with dignity, and was admired. He stood on the far side of a long table, in the center position, and proceeded to perform a Catholic Mass for the assembled group, partially in Hawaiian, partly in English. When the ceremony was over, the king noticed a woman off to his right, and was surprised. He said, "I haven't seen you in 37 years!"
Dream 3: BTR
I was examining a rare copy of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" album. I pulled the record out of the jacket, and saw that the vinyl was in really nice shape. The real prize was the paper sleeve which protected the record. It was covered on both sides with very interesting, previously-unseen black and white photos of the band, from the mid-1970s.
*****
Dream 1: I grew up watching and listening to The Monkees. I have fond memories of their debut record and of their third album, "Headquarters."
Dream 2: Island Excursion
I may have thought about Hawaii after reading a recent article about Barack Obama's mother. Her father was a furniture salesman who had a habit of uprooting his family and moving them around the country. Shortly after Hawaii became a state (in 1959) he heard about the opening of a large furniture store there, and decided to move again. Barack's mother decided to go along, and shortly thereafter she enrolled in a university there for her freshman year of college. It was at that university that she met a fellow student, Barack Obama Sr.
The king in the white suit may have been a nod to Pope Benedict XVI, who is currently visiting the United States. He said Mass at a baseball stadium in Washington this week, and my brother and sister in law and two of their kids were able to obtain tickets and see him.
Dream 3: BTR
The vinyl version of "Born to Run" featured two large black and white photos: one of Bruce with Clarence (on the cover) and one of Bruce by himself on the inside of the gatefold. There were no photos on the record sleeve.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Murder Most Foul
Monday night
I was standing in a group with three other guys, in what looked like an alley. One of the guys was someone I had known many years ago -- Timmy M. The last guy to join the gathering was my twin brother, Andrew; he'd happened upon the rest of us by accident. I waited until Timmy was looking elsewhere, and then I took a metal pipe from my coat; I whacked him in the head with it, and he fell to the ground, apparently dead. Suddenly I was overcome with remorse; not that I had killed another human being, but that I had done it in the presence of my twin brother, making him an unwitting accomplice. I turned toward Drew, not knowing what to say. He shocked me by affecting a cold, cynical demeanor, and said, "Oh, was Timmy here?" The implication was that we'd get rid of the evidence, and no one else would be the wiser.
*****
I'm happy to say that this depiction of my brother Andrew couldn't be farther from the truth, and I don't have murderous feelings toward anyone. Well, OK, maybe John Lennon's killer, but I'm certainly not going to act on them.
Timmy M. was a funny and somewhat goofy guy who was a regular in the AJBC (American Junior Bowling Congress) league Drew and I joined some 30 years ago at the late, lamented Bowl America Pla-Mor alley in Arlington, long since replaced by a hotel or something. I haven't seen him since I was in high school.
Timmy was involved in one of the most ridiculous scenes I've ever witnessed, on a snowy night, near the back corner of the Washington Golf and Country Club in Arlington. He and another bowling buddy, Derek G., met up with a bunch of us in order to hop the fence and go sledding on the driving range, which was the largest hill for miles around. All went well until the sledding was over, and it was time for us to leave. (There were about a dozen revelers in our group, and many others that we didn't know). The road leading up to the fence was narrow, and Derek had parked his heavy, 1970s model Plymouth Barracuda near the gate; he'd have to back out to get to the main road. To accomplish this, he asked Timmy to open the huge, long, right door of the car, and stand on the carriage, looking backward (over the roof) to ensure that Derek, who was driving, didn't hit anyone. Timmy did as he was ordered, and made sure that Derek didn't hit any pedestrians. Unfortunately, Timmy didn't notice, and didn't report, that as they rolled backward at 3 miles per hour (or whatever it was) the open door on his side was approaching a fire hydrant. The resulting collision pretty much sheared the door off of the car. I said something along the lines of, "Man, that sucks..." and walked home. That may have been the last time that I saw them. I never did hear what happened to the car, or how they got home that night.
Sometimes my wife has trouble sleeping, and she'll ask me to tell her that story. I don't think she's ever heard the entire thing. Anyway, that's probably why I was thinking about Timmy. I hope he's well, wherever he is.
I was standing in a group with three other guys, in what looked like an alley. One of the guys was someone I had known many years ago -- Timmy M. The last guy to join the gathering was my twin brother, Andrew; he'd happened upon the rest of us by accident. I waited until Timmy was looking elsewhere, and then I took a metal pipe from my coat; I whacked him in the head with it, and he fell to the ground, apparently dead. Suddenly I was overcome with remorse; not that I had killed another human being, but that I had done it in the presence of my twin brother, making him an unwitting accomplice. I turned toward Drew, not knowing what to say. He shocked me by affecting a cold, cynical demeanor, and said, "Oh, was Timmy here?" The implication was that we'd get rid of the evidence, and no one else would be the wiser.
*****
I'm happy to say that this depiction of my brother Andrew couldn't be farther from the truth, and I don't have murderous feelings toward anyone. Well, OK, maybe John Lennon's killer, but I'm certainly not going to act on them.
Timmy M. was a funny and somewhat goofy guy who was a regular in the AJBC (American Junior Bowling Congress) league Drew and I joined some 30 years ago at the late, lamented Bowl America Pla-Mor alley in Arlington, long since replaced by a hotel or something. I haven't seen him since I was in high school.
Timmy was involved in one of the most ridiculous scenes I've ever witnessed, on a snowy night, near the back corner of the Washington Golf and Country Club in Arlington. He and another bowling buddy, Derek G., met up with a bunch of us in order to hop the fence and go sledding on the driving range, which was the largest hill for miles around. All went well until the sledding was over, and it was time for us to leave. (There were about a dozen revelers in our group, and many others that we didn't know). The road leading up to the fence was narrow, and Derek had parked his heavy, 1970s model Plymouth Barracuda near the gate; he'd have to back out to get to the main road. To accomplish this, he asked Timmy to open the huge, long, right door of the car, and stand on the carriage, looking backward (over the roof) to ensure that Derek, who was driving, didn't hit anyone. Timmy did as he was ordered, and made sure that Derek didn't hit any pedestrians. Unfortunately, Timmy didn't notice, and didn't report, that as they rolled backward at 3 miles per hour (or whatever it was) the open door on his side was approaching a fire hydrant. The resulting collision pretty much sheared the door off of the car. I said something along the lines of, "Man, that sucks..." and walked home. That may have been the last time that I saw them. I never did hear what happened to the car, or how they got home that night.
Sometimes my wife has trouble sleeping, and she'll ask me to tell her that story. I don't think she's ever heard the entire thing. Anyway, that's probably why I was thinking about Timmy. I hope he's well, wherever he is.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Running in the Graveyard / She's Still Got It
Sunday night
Dream 1: Running in the Graveyard
I was running along through a large abandoned park, or field, which included some straightaways and some terraces. The hills had built-in steps made from old grave markers, or tombs, made of slate, or stone. Some of the graves were so decrepit that the lids had shifted, so that they were partially opened, which was pretty creepy. I had just run down one such stairway when I noticed another large tomb, off to my left. The marker was quite long, and laid flat, flush with the grass. It was made of gray slate, but it was the fantastic artistry of the carving that had caught my eye. It featured an amazingly stylized rendering of a life-size skeleton, squatting in the bottom left-hand corner. Its features were somewhat more oblong than rounded, but other than that, it was quite realistic. The inscription read: "Here Lies a Woman Who Lived to be 100, Unprepared to Die. She Was Buried in a Gown Signed by Miss Jane Cook."
Dream 2: She's Still Got It
I had been interviewing singer and actress Julie Andrews about her new memoir. During our conversation she mentioned that she doesn't sing publicly anymore, due to complications from surgery that she'd undergone several years ago. Once our interview was over, I was walking out of the building when I heard a familiar sound. I strolled back down the hallway and peered into a classroom through a window pane in a wooden door. Ms. Andrews was singing a Christmas carol to a small group. I decided not to disturb them. As I walked away I thought, "Considering her age, and what she's been through, she doesn't sound bad at all."
*****
Dream 1: Running in the Graveyard
From time to time I'll research photographs of late 18th- and early 19th-century slate tombstones from New England on the Web. Some of them are quite interesting and scary. I try to copy at least one each year to add to the graveyard that springs up in our front yard each Halloween.
That inscription was pretty interesting. I got the impression that the deceased was unknown, but the name of her seamstress might leave a clue to her identity, so it was included on the marker.
Dream 2: She's Still Got It
Julie Andrews has been promoting her new book, "Home," about her life up until "The Sound of Music." I've read some pretty good notices in Newsweek and The NYT Book Review.
Dream 1: Running in the Graveyard
I was running along through a large abandoned park, or field, which included some straightaways and some terraces. The hills had built-in steps made from old grave markers, or tombs, made of slate, or stone. Some of the graves were so decrepit that the lids had shifted, so that they were partially opened, which was pretty creepy. I had just run down one such stairway when I noticed another large tomb, off to my left. The marker was quite long, and laid flat, flush with the grass. It was made of gray slate, but it was the fantastic artistry of the carving that had caught my eye. It featured an amazingly stylized rendering of a life-size skeleton, squatting in the bottom left-hand corner. Its features were somewhat more oblong than rounded, but other than that, it was quite realistic. The inscription read: "Here Lies a Woman Who Lived to be 100, Unprepared to Die. She Was Buried in a Gown Signed by Miss Jane Cook."
Dream 2: She's Still Got It
I had been interviewing singer and actress Julie Andrews about her new memoir. During our conversation she mentioned that she doesn't sing publicly anymore, due to complications from surgery that she'd undergone several years ago. Once our interview was over, I was walking out of the building when I heard a familiar sound. I strolled back down the hallway and peered into a classroom through a window pane in a wooden door. Ms. Andrews was singing a Christmas carol to a small group. I decided not to disturb them. As I walked away I thought, "Considering her age, and what she's been through, she doesn't sound bad at all."
*****
Dream 1: Running in the Graveyard
From time to time I'll research photographs of late 18th- and early 19th-century slate tombstones from New England on the Web. Some of them are quite interesting and scary. I try to copy at least one each year to add to the graveyard that springs up in our front yard each Halloween.
That inscription was pretty interesting. I got the impression that the deceased was unknown, but the name of her seamstress might leave a clue to her identity, so it was included on the marker.
Dream 2: She's Still Got It
Julie Andrews has been promoting her new book, "Home," about her life up until "The Sound of Music." I've read some pretty good notices in Newsweek and The NYT Book Review.
A Cautionary Tale
Saturday night
I was going over a printed copy of our family's monthly budget, which was color-coded. The white lines were bills and regular expenses; the orange and darker red lines were items that we used to buy with our discretionary income, but which we've stopped buying, due to a renewed focus on saving money. Scrolling down the list of the discretionary items, I focused on one of them, and said, "You know, maybe we could still buy this..." and I began to erase the color from the line. As soon as I did so, I shrank and fell through the line in the report, into flames below.
*****
Yikes.
We haven't done away with all discretionary spending, but after I was laid off my wife spearheaded the drawing up of a tight family budget, so we could see where every penny was going. Before we did that, I said, "I don't know where my money went." It was pretty shocking how much was spent on dining out -- particularly when I ate lunch out during the week. Nowadays I bag my lunch every day. We pay all of the bills, sock some money toward the savings plans, and we each get an equal allowance that we can spend in any way that we choose. I know everything that I want at all times and keep lists of CDs and DVDs at the ready, so my allowance doesn't seem to last very long, but it's a good situation. All the bases are covered, and we get to have some fun, too.
I was going over a printed copy of our family's monthly budget, which was color-coded. The white lines were bills and regular expenses; the orange and darker red lines were items that we used to buy with our discretionary income, but which we've stopped buying, due to a renewed focus on saving money. Scrolling down the list of the discretionary items, I focused on one of them, and said, "You know, maybe we could still buy this..." and I began to erase the color from the line. As soon as I did so, I shrank and fell through the line in the report, into flames below.
*****
Yikes.
We haven't done away with all discretionary spending, but after I was laid off my wife spearheaded the drawing up of a tight family budget, so we could see where every penny was going. Before we did that, I said, "I don't know where my money went." It was pretty shocking how much was spent on dining out -- particularly when I ate lunch out during the week. Nowadays I bag my lunch every day. We pay all of the bills, sock some money toward the savings plans, and we each get an equal allowance that we can spend in any way that we choose. I know everything that I want at all times and keep lists of CDs and DVDs at the ready, so my allowance doesn't seem to last very long, but it's a good situation. All the bases are covered, and we get to have some fun, too.
Shyster
Friday night
I was in a department store, eavesdropping as a disreputable salesman was making a pitch to an unsuspecting couple. Knowing that he was leaving out some important information, I butted in: "Did you remember to tell them about..." He whilred around and cut me off, saying, "Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?"
*****
Shades of "Glengarry Glen Ross."
I was in a department store, eavesdropping as a disreputable salesman was making a pitch to an unsuspecting couple. Knowing that he was leaving out some important information, I butted in: "Did you remember to tell them about..." He whilred around and cut me off, saying, "Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?"
*****
Shades of "Glengarry Glen Ross."
Friday, April 11, 2008
Speedboat / Swamp
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Speedboat
My brother Andrew had rented a serious boat, which was reputed to get up to 700 miles per hour, and had invited several people to accompany him on a day cruise. The boat was white, with two levels, and looked as if several people could comfortably spend an afternoon deep-sea fishing from the stern. But today we wouldn't be fishing -- Drew was the captain, and he had other ideas. He stood at the wheel and let the engines rip. I stood in front, along with Drew's father-in-law, Steve W., and leaned into the wind, feeling the awesome power as we cut through the water. In fact, I wondered whether or not I should be tethered, in case of a mishap. We were cruising along at break-neck speed through some sort of channel which had an angled concrete embankment on the right side, almost like a big curve in a racetrack. The embankment was soon to come in handy. Captain Andrew was heading straight for a large tree which was growing in the middle of the channel. We turned and called out to him, but the boat was really moving, and it seemed to be too late to avoid smashing into it. Thinking quickly, Drew came up with an evasive maneuver; he simply cut the wheel hard to the right, swerved the motorboat up onto the concrete. He swung around the tree and back into the water, and on we went.
Dream 2: Swamp
My family was walking around on the ground near a swampy area, surrounded by large cypress and mangrove trees. I left my parents on the ground, and my wife and I decided to take a flight in a small, propeller-driven plane, in order to survey the scene from the sky. I was at the controls, and could see Mom and Dad down below, and my little brother was down there, too. He was blond, and about 10 years old. Our plane was climbing when I noticed that I wasn't wearing my seat belt. I asked my wife to take the wheel (which was large and round, like a the steering wheel of an old bus) and help me land the plane while I worked on getting myself and my strap(s) together.
*****
Dream 1: Speedboat
I think that Andrew and I have been on a boat together on comparatively few occasions, and I don't think I've ever seen him steer a motorboat. On a few occasions we've tried to steer the same boat with oars, usually with hapless results. Our neighbors Jack and Hilda used to have a boat, and allowed me to steer during the trip back on Kentucky Lake one time a few years back. That was a treat.
Dream 2: Swamp
My family spent a decent amount of time in and around swampy areas in South Carolina in the 1970s, so some of those scenes may have popped up in this dream. I've never flown a small plane, and have no desire to do so.
I have no younger brother, or sister, for that matter.
Dream 1: Speedboat
My brother Andrew had rented a serious boat, which was reputed to get up to 700 miles per hour, and had invited several people to accompany him on a day cruise. The boat was white, with two levels, and looked as if several people could comfortably spend an afternoon deep-sea fishing from the stern. But today we wouldn't be fishing -- Drew was the captain, and he had other ideas. He stood at the wheel and let the engines rip. I stood in front, along with Drew's father-in-law, Steve W., and leaned into the wind, feeling the awesome power as we cut through the water. In fact, I wondered whether or not I should be tethered, in case of a mishap. We were cruising along at break-neck speed through some sort of channel which had an angled concrete embankment on the right side, almost like a big curve in a racetrack. The embankment was soon to come in handy. Captain Andrew was heading straight for a large tree which was growing in the middle of the channel. We turned and called out to him, but the boat was really moving, and it seemed to be too late to avoid smashing into it. Thinking quickly, Drew came up with an evasive maneuver; he simply cut the wheel hard to the right, swerved the motorboat up onto the concrete. He swung around the tree and back into the water, and on we went.
Dream 2: Swamp
My family was walking around on the ground near a swampy area, surrounded by large cypress and mangrove trees. I left my parents on the ground, and my wife and I decided to take a flight in a small, propeller-driven plane, in order to survey the scene from the sky. I was at the controls, and could see Mom and Dad down below, and my little brother was down there, too. He was blond, and about 10 years old. Our plane was climbing when I noticed that I wasn't wearing my seat belt. I asked my wife to take the wheel (which was large and round, like a the steering wheel of an old bus) and help me land the plane while I worked on getting myself and my strap(s) together.
*****
Dream 1: Speedboat
I think that Andrew and I have been on a boat together on comparatively few occasions, and I don't think I've ever seen him steer a motorboat. On a few occasions we've tried to steer the same boat with oars, usually with hapless results. Our neighbors Jack and Hilda used to have a boat, and allowed me to steer during the trip back on Kentucky Lake one time a few years back. That was a treat.
Dream 2: Swamp
My family spent a decent amount of time in and around swampy areas in South Carolina in the 1970s, so some of those scenes may have popped up in this dream. I've never flown a small plane, and have no desire to do so.
I have no younger brother, or sister, for that matter.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The Hold Out / Boy, Blue
Sunday night
Dream 1: The Hold Out
I'd written a software manual which I'd had published in paperback. A distributor had made an offer to me to warehouse and sell the title for me, and was sending a representative over to the bookstore where I worked to talk about it. The man from the distribution company showed up, and I was wary from the start. He looked a little too much like Ron Jeremy for comfort. He proffered a contract, which stipulated that I'd get $2 for every copy sold. (The books would retail for $7 apiece.) I stood there wondering if I should sign, or hold out for more. The rep left the premises while I thought it over. I wasn't sure what to do, so I turned to my brother Jimmie, who was also in the store. He had previously self-published a book penned by our dad. I said, "Should I sign this?" He shook his head. I decided to turn down the offer and hold out for a slightly higher percentage. At that moment one of our employees, an older man with an Italian or South American accent, walked out of a room in the back, and onto the sales floor. He said, "I'm glad that's over. I didn't want to talk about the money." I held up the book and looked at it, and tried to be positive. I said, "I think it's pretty good. It's useful."
Dream 2: Boy, Blue
I'd been put in charge of implementing a new database that would track every item in every antique shop in the country. I sat at my desk, overwhelmed, thinking about the millions of crappy prints of Gainsborough's "Blue Boy" that I'd have to log into the system.
*****
Dream 1: The Hold Out
Jimmie really did self-publish a book that my dad wrote about public speaking, and he designed the layout and the cover, too. He did a beautiful job. This dream combines that book and a manual that I recently received after finishing a refresher course in Excel.
Dream 2: Boy, Blue
I like Gainsborough's painting just fine; this dream pokes fun at the prints of the painting that I always see while I'm out antiquing. Every shop has at least one, and usually more than that. Someone must have decided in the 1920s or '30s that no American home was complete without one.
Dream 1: The Hold Out
I'd written a software manual which I'd had published in paperback. A distributor had made an offer to me to warehouse and sell the title for me, and was sending a representative over to the bookstore where I worked to talk about it. The man from the distribution company showed up, and I was wary from the start. He looked a little too much like Ron Jeremy for comfort. He proffered a contract, which stipulated that I'd get $2 for every copy sold. (The books would retail for $7 apiece.) I stood there wondering if I should sign, or hold out for more. The rep left the premises while I thought it over. I wasn't sure what to do, so I turned to my brother Jimmie, who was also in the store. He had previously self-published a book penned by our dad. I said, "Should I sign this?" He shook his head. I decided to turn down the offer and hold out for a slightly higher percentage. At that moment one of our employees, an older man with an Italian or South American accent, walked out of a room in the back, and onto the sales floor. He said, "I'm glad that's over. I didn't want to talk about the money." I held up the book and looked at it, and tried to be positive. I said, "I think it's pretty good. It's useful."
Dream 2: Boy, Blue
I'd been put in charge of implementing a new database that would track every item in every antique shop in the country. I sat at my desk, overwhelmed, thinking about the millions of crappy prints of Gainsborough's "Blue Boy" that I'd have to log into the system.
*****
Dream 1: The Hold Out
Jimmie really did self-publish a book that my dad wrote about public speaking, and he designed the layout and the cover, too. He did a beautiful job. This dream combines that book and a manual that I recently received after finishing a refresher course in Excel.
Dream 2: Boy, Blue
I like Gainsborough's painting just fine; this dream pokes fun at the prints of the painting that I always see while I'm out antiquing. Every shop has at least one, and usually more than that. Someone must have decided in the 1920s or '30s that no American home was complete without one.
Lay Your Burden Down
Saturday night
I was standing in my next-door neighbors' garage, which was larger than it is in reality; it was furnished with comfortable chairs, and the walls were painted white. From the inside, it looked like a very nice family room. I had brought an aquaintance of mine, another man, to meet Jack (the co-owner of the house), thinking that they might strike up a conversation about restoring old cars, or scooters, which is Jack's hobby. Jack seemed glum, and stared straight ahead, not looking at anyone in particular. He said nothing. His wife, Hilda, stood behind his chair, showing concern, but eventually decided to leave the room so the three guys could talk. As soon as she did so, Jack's personality changed. He turned to the guy I'd brought with me and said, "Hey -- Give me some action on the [basketball] game tonight!" It turned out that Jack and that man not only knew each other, but that they both had a history of gambling problems, and were in recovery together -- something that until now had been a closely-held secret. It was news to me. Jack was depressed by the fact that he couldn't bet on the games anymore, and said "I've been seeing somebody about it." (They'd talk about his mood and the gambling.) I felt a great deal of sympathy for him. I said, "The most depressed I've ever been in my life was in 2006. I never really thought about killing myself, but after losing my job, troubles trying to start a business and then taking a big pay cut while temping, it was a very difficult year for me. We were lucky to keep the house." Jack turned to me and said, "Well, how do you think we got our house?" The implication was that the former owner of their house lost his job, and was desperate to sell, so Jack and Hilda were able to buy their house at a price that was well under market value.
Later that day, Jack, Hilda, my wife and I were making a trip on foot to Jack and Hilda's storage unit. Each of us was carrying something, but Jack was straining with the heaviest item of all. It was long and cumbersome, like a table or shelving unit, and he seemed to be dragging it behind him while holding part of it over his right shoulder. Once we got there, we grabbed some things to carry back, but Jack had done enough already; he walked back empty-handed. We didn't mind. He was still upset, and went on ahead of us. I was carrying some of Jack's clothes, including a stack of sport shirts, which were folded neatly. I caught up to Jack and said, "Hey -- I just had a dream about you!" He said, "Well, tell Hilda. [Don't tell me.] I hate myself." I hung back a little bit and let him walk by himself toward home.
Back at Jack and Hilda's, I opened the door to their bedroom and walked in, with the intention of putting Jack's clothes in a dresser. Looking to my left, I saw the outline of Jack's feet under the covers; he'd gone to bed. I didn't want to disturb him, so I walked back out into the living room, still holding the folded clothes. Hilda was there, sitting in a chair. She looked at me and said, "I just found out who my judges are."
*****
I was haunted by this dream for most of the day yesterday. It wasn't necesasarily a bad dream, but I had the feeling that it was filled with deep meanings -- not that I know what those meanings are...
Nothing in this dream is true except that Jack and Hilda are our neighbors, they do have a garage, Jack does like to repair old scooters, and 2006 was the most difficult year of my life, for the reasons I mentioned. (I even coined a word to describe it: destressure = depression + stress + pressure.)
My experience in Nashville hasn't been a very happy one, but things are much better now than they were two years ago. I've got a job, and with it, a measure of financial stability that I didn't have then. My focus now is on our retirement in 2027, in good health and with a comfortable amount of savings. That renewed focus and shared purpose brings with it its own happiness.
Anyway, the best thing that has happened to me in Nashville is the outrageous good fortune of happening to buy the house next to Jack and Hilda's. They are a a decade older than we are (or a little less) and have been so very friendly, inviting us into their home for Easter or Thanksgiving, treating us like members of their extended family. Hilda and my wife love to share tips about gardening and cooking, and Jack is all too happy to help me figure out why my lawn mower won't work. In fact, Jack surprised me by mowing my front yard this past week. (After some of Jack's tinkering, my mower works great now.)
We were all out working in our respective yards yesterday, and I told Hilda about this dream. I asked her if Jack ever bets on sports games; he doesn't. Then I asked her if she knows who her judges are. She said she'll have to think about it and get back to me. At first I thought [in the dream] that she meant that she was going to pull an Aunt Bea and take certain flowers she'd grown or pickles she'd canned to the county fair for judging, but maybe she meant something altogether more serious than that. Are her family or friends her judges? Was she referring to her eventual Day of Judgement?
My dad bets on sports games frequently. That probably found its way into this dream. My wife and I were at a picnic on Saturday, and someone whom I've only met on one other occasion asked me who I thought would make it into the men's college tournament final basketball game. I had to admit that I wasn't following it, and therefore, had no idea. So basketballs were floating around in my head, too.
I can't shake the feeling that the burden Jack was carrying to the storage unit had a direct parallel to the image of Christ's procession toward Calvary. I suppose that we all have our own crosses to bear. I bore mine in 2006.
I was standing in my next-door neighbors' garage, which was larger than it is in reality; it was furnished with comfortable chairs, and the walls were painted white. From the inside, it looked like a very nice family room. I had brought an aquaintance of mine, another man, to meet Jack (the co-owner of the house), thinking that they might strike up a conversation about restoring old cars, or scooters, which is Jack's hobby. Jack seemed glum, and stared straight ahead, not looking at anyone in particular. He said nothing. His wife, Hilda, stood behind his chair, showing concern, but eventually decided to leave the room so the three guys could talk. As soon as she did so, Jack's personality changed. He turned to the guy I'd brought with me and said, "Hey -- Give me some action on the [basketball] game tonight!" It turned out that Jack and that man not only knew each other, but that they both had a history of gambling problems, and were in recovery together -- something that until now had been a closely-held secret. It was news to me. Jack was depressed by the fact that he couldn't bet on the games anymore, and said "I've been seeing somebody about it." (They'd talk about his mood and the gambling.) I felt a great deal of sympathy for him. I said, "The most depressed I've ever been in my life was in 2006. I never really thought about killing myself, but after losing my job, troubles trying to start a business and then taking a big pay cut while temping, it was a very difficult year for me. We were lucky to keep the house." Jack turned to me and said, "Well, how do you think we got our house?" The implication was that the former owner of their house lost his job, and was desperate to sell, so Jack and Hilda were able to buy their house at a price that was well under market value.
Later that day, Jack, Hilda, my wife and I were making a trip on foot to Jack and Hilda's storage unit. Each of us was carrying something, but Jack was straining with the heaviest item of all. It was long and cumbersome, like a table or shelving unit, and he seemed to be dragging it behind him while holding part of it over his right shoulder. Once we got there, we grabbed some things to carry back, but Jack had done enough already; he walked back empty-handed. We didn't mind. He was still upset, and went on ahead of us. I was carrying some of Jack's clothes, including a stack of sport shirts, which were folded neatly. I caught up to Jack and said, "Hey -- I just had a dream about you!" He said, "Well, tell Hilda. [Don't tell me.] I hate myself." I hung back a little bit and let him walk by himself toward home.
Back at Jack and Hilda's, I opened the door to their bedroom and walked in, with the intention of putting Jack's clothes in a dresser. Looking to my left, I saw the outline of Jack's feet under the covers; he'd gone to bed. I didn't want to disturb him, so I walked back out into the living room, still holding the folded clothes. Hilda was there, sitting in a chair. She looked at me and said, "I just found out who my judges are."
*****
I was haunted by this dream for most of the day yesterday. It wasn't necesasarily a bad dream, but I had the feeling that it was filled with deep meanings -- not that I know what those meanings are...
Nothing in this dream is true except that Jack and Hilda are our neighbors, they do have a garage, Jack does like to repair old scooters, and 2006 was the most difficult year of my life, for the reasons I mentioned. (I even coined a word to describe it: destressure = depression + stress + pressure.)
My experience in Nashville hasn't been a very happy one, but things are much better now than they were two years ago. I've got a job, and with it, a measure of financial stability that I didn't have then. My focus now is on our retirement in 2027, in good health and with a comfortable amount of savings. That renewed focus and shared purpose brings with it its own happiness.
Anyway, the best thing that has happened to me in Nashville is the outrageous good fortune of happening to buy the house next to Jack and Hilda's. They are a a decade older than we are (or a little less) and have been so very friendly, inviting us into their home for Easter or Thanksgiving, treating us like members of their extended family. Hilda and my wife love to share tips about gardening and cooking, and Jack is all too happy to help me figure out why my lawn mower won't work. In fact, Jack surprised me by mowing my front yard this past week. (After some of Jack's tinkering, my mower works great now.)
We were all out working in our respective yards yesterday, and I told Hilda about this dream. I asked her if Jack ever bets on sports games; he doesn't. Then I asked her if she knows who her judges are. She said she'll have to think about it and get back to me. At first I thought [in the dream] that she meant that she was going to pull an Aunt Bea and take certain flowers she'd grown or pickles she'd canned to the county fair for judging, but maybe she meant something altogether more serious than that. Are her family or friends her judges? Was she referring to her eventual Day of Judgement?
My dad bets on sports games frequently. That probably found its way into this dream. My wife and I were at a picnic on Saturday, and someone whom I've only met on one other occasion asked me who I thought would make it into the men's college tournament final basketball game. I had to admit that I wasn't following it, and therefore, had no idea. So basketballs were floating around in my head, too.
I can't shake the feeling that the burden Jack was carrying to the storage unit had a direct parallel to the image of Christ's procession toward Calvary. I suppose that we all have our own crosses to bear. I bore mine in 2006.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Revenge / 6 / Bike Tour
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Revenge
Gordon, Andrew and I were sitting together in the front left row of a projection room, where we were eagerly awaiting the screening of a film made by Quentin Tarantino, with help from Tim Burton. Gordon and I had seen the movie before, but Drew had not. Apparently the rest of the audience contained several fans of the film, too; we could tell that they were excited.
The first scene opened in a wooded area. Jimi Hendrix was lying on the ground in a sleeping bag, or maybe he was covered in a blanket. He was the leader of a band of peaceful, free-spirited young people who were asleep all around him. He wore some elements of Native American dress to denote his high position in the group, but, contrary to appearances, he was not a warrior. Not yet, anyway. That was about to change. Some young people who were sitting behind us in the theater began to whisper about what was coming next. I leaned over to my right and said to my brother, "I'm sorry [for what you're about to see]."
Although it wasn't seen in the dream, I knew that a band of marauders was about to enter the wood and massacre the peaceful group, leaving only one person alive -- Jimi Hendrix -- who would transform himself into a mighty warrior, bent on avenging the deaths of his friends.
Tim Burton's contributions to the film were appropriately strange, and featured stop-motion animation in the vein of his films "The Nightmare Before Christmas" and "Corpse Bride." We saw a scene in which a detective, who had been assigned to investigate the massacre, was at the beach, buried up to his chest in sand, while wearing a suit, tie and hat. The sky, the sand and the water were orange, and pumpkins raced around the beach on bent, pointed, spindly legs. He was approached by a pretty loose collection of dismembered body parts (including entrails) which were cruising down the beach in a heap. Seeing the detective, a cheerful voice coming from the grouping said, "Hey! Can you put us back together?"
Dream 2: 6
I had recently bought a dark-colored 1960s Mustang, and was pulling out of the Chesterbrook Shopping Center parking lot in McLean, when I discovered that it had appalingly bad brakes. In fact, I had to stand on the clutch and the brake in order to get the car to stop. Unfortunately, I had to make a left turn and head down a very steep hill, which was utterly terrifying. Once I made it to the bottom (without crashing) I found that I had to pass through some sort of automobile safety station, complete with a little white wooden booth and long wooden barriers that had to be raised for entry and exit. A young woman in the booth had somehow been monitoring my progress. She said, "We suggest that you drive 6 miles per hour."
Dream 3: Bike Tour
I was riding a bike in Washington, D.C. on a beautiful spring day, but I was lost. I'd stopped by a bike shop (presumably for some repairs, or maybe for directions) but still didn't have a clue where I was going. The store's parking lot was filled with lots of interesting bikes, though. I got to a corner and took a deep breath, enjoying the warm weather, and the the sight of trees which only recently had come into full bloom. If I could only find the Washington Monument, I'd get my bearings, and everything would be fine, but in the meantime, I was getting exercise, and was doing what I wanted to do. I looked around, trying to figure out the direction in which I should be headed. Up ahead, the street in front of me featured two huge landmarks on either side. At first I thought that the one on the left was the Washington Monument, but it wasn't; it was some other huge obelisk. The stones had an attractive light brown hue. The one on the right corner was a gigantic Victorian house. It had fallen into disrepair, but I could tell that at one time it had been a majestic dwelling. I said out loud, "What a pile!"
*****
Dream 1: Revenge
Jimi Hendrix had a fondness for exotic clothing, including old military coats and cowboy gear, but I don't recall ever seeing him wearing a Native American bone shirt, as he did in this dream. My mother's old boss, Congressman Usher Burdick of North Dakota, was a friend and chronicler of the Sioux nation, and he gave Mom a very cool old book about that tribe. I don't know what ever happened to it. I used to pore over the illustrations of warriors such as Chief Red Cloud, who was shown wearing the bone necklace, or front-piece, over his shirt. Very impressive.
I suspect that the creepy pumpkins on the beach mix my search for vintage Halloween postcards on e-bay, and a documentary we watched on PBS the other night about wildlife in Cuba. It featured a crab migration.
Dream 2: 6
I owned a 1966 Mustang over 20 years ago, till it was rear-ended by a hit and run driver. It was white, though, not dark blue or black, as was the one in the dream.
Dream 3: Bike Tour
During Easter brunch with some neighbors, somebody suggested that the group might want to embark on regular bike rides. I said that my bike has been in the basement for a few years now, so I need to get it reconditioned, but after that, I'd be all for it.
My wife and I recently bought a box set of the BBC series "Jeeves and Wooster," which starred Hugh Laurie (of "House" fame) and ran for four seasons in the early 1990s. The series is set in the 1930s, and features some enormous old British country houses. Seeing the exterior of one of those houses, my wife exclaimed, "What a pile!" Her expression found its way into this dream when I stared at the Victorian mansion.
Dream 1: Revenge
Gordon, Andrew and I were sitting together in the front left row of a projection room, where we were eagerly awaiting the screening of a film made by Quentin Tarantino, with help from Tim Burton. Gordon and I had seen the movie before, but Drew had not. Apparently the rest of the audience contained several fans of the film, too; we could tell that they were excited.
The first scene opened in a wooded area. Jimi Hendrix was lying on the ground in a sleeping bag, or maybe he was covered in a blanket. He was the leader of a band of peaceful, free-spirited young people who were asleep all around him. He wore some elements of Native American dress to denote his high position in the group, but, contrary to appearances, he was not a warrior. Not yet, anyway. That was about to change. Some young people who were sitting behind us in the theater began to whisper about what was coming next. I leaned over to my right and said to my brother, "I'm sorry [for what you're about to see]."
Although it wasn't seen in the dream, I knew that a band of marauders was about to enter the wood and massacre the peaceful group, leaving only one person alive -- Jimi Hendrix -- who would transform himself into a mighty warrior, bent on avenging the deaths of his friends.
Tim Burton's contributions to the film were appropriately strange, and featured stop-motion animation in the vein of his films "The Nightmare Before Christmas" and "Corpse Bride." We saw a scene in which a detective, who had been assigned to investigate the massacre, was at the beach, buried up to his chest in sand, while wearing a suit, tie and hat. The sky, the sand and the water were orange, and pumpkins raced around the beach on bent, pointed, spindly legs. He was approached by a pretty loose collection of dismembered body parts (including entrails) which were cruising down the beach in a heap. Seeing the detective, a cheerful voice coming from the grouping said, "Hey! Can you put us back together?"
Dream 2: 6
I had recently bought a dark-colored 1960s Mustang, and was pulling out of the Chesterbrook Shopping Center parking lot in McLean, when I discovered that it had appalingly bad brakes. In fact, I had to stand on the clutch and the brake in order to get the car to stop. Unfortunately, I had to make a left turn and head down a very steep hill, which was utterly terrifying. Once I made it to the bottom (without crashing) I found that I had to pass through some sort of automobile safety station, complete with a little white wooden booth and long wooden barriers that had to be raised for entry and exit. A young woman in the booth had somehow been monitoring my progress. She said, "We suggest that you drive 6 miles per hour."
Dream 3: Bike Tour
I was riding a bike in Washington, D.C. on a beautiful spring day, but I was lost. I'd stopped by a bike shop (presumably for some repairs, or maybe for directions) but still didn't have a clue where I was going. The store's parking lot was filled with lots of interesting bikes, though. I got to a corner and took a deep breath, enjoying the warm weather, and the the sight of trees which only recently had come into full bloom. If I could only find the Washington Monument, I'd get my bearings, and everything would be fine, but in the meantime, I was getting exercise, and was doing what I wanted to do. I looked around, trying to figure out the direction in which I should be headed. Up ahead, the street in front of me featured two huge landmarks on either side. At first I thought that the one on the left was the Washington Monument, but it wasn't; it was some other huge obelisk. The stones had an attractive light brown hue. The one on the right corner was a gigantic Victorian house. It had fallen into disrepair, but I could tell that at one time it had been a majestic dwelling. I said out loud, "What a pile!"
*****
Dream 1: Revenge
Jimi Hendrix had a fondness for exotic clothing, including old military coats and cowboy gear, but I don't recall ever seeing him wearing a Native American bone shirt, as he did in this dream. My mother's old boss, Congressman Usher Burdick of North Dakota, was a friend and chronicler of the Sioux nation, and he gave Mom a very cool old book about that tribe. I don't know what ever happened to it. I used to pore over the illustrations of warriors such as Chief Red Cloud, who was shown wearing the bone necklace, or front-piece, over his shirt. Very impressive.
I suspect that the creepy pumpkins on the beach mix my search for vintage Halloween postcards on e-bay, and a documentary we watched on PBS the other night about wildlife in Cuba. It featured a crab migration.
Dream 2: 6
I owned a 1966 Mustang over 20 years ago, till it was rear-ended by a hit and run driver. It was white, though, not dark blue or black, as was the one in the dream.
Dream 3: Bike Tour
During Easter brunch with some neighbors, somebody suggested that the group might want to embark on regular bike rides. I said that my bike has been in the basement for a few years now, so I need to get it reconditioned, but after that, I'd be all for it.
My wife and I recently bought a box set of the BBC series "Jeeves and Wooster," which starred Hugh Laurie (of "House" fame) and ran for four seasons in the early 1990s. The series is set in the 1930s, and features some enormous old British country houses. Seeing the exterior of one of those houses, my wife exclaimed, "What a pile!" Her expression found its way into this dream when I stared at the Victorian mansion.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Stadium / Old Days
Dream 1: Stadium
I was standing on a sidewalk in the Cherrydale section of Arlington County, looking at the outside of a brand-new baseball stadium, made of red brick and iron. It towered over the landscape, and apparently took the place of a block of shops, including the 7-11 I used to visit after church. I thought, "It's probably fantastic on the inside, but it's too much for the neighborhood."
Dream 2: Old Days
I was standing with Jeff V., an old friend from high school days, and were were flipping through the pages of a photo album. At one point I said, "Hey! There's Bern!" Suddenly I wondered if I should have been more sensitive, since Jeff's brother Bernie had died before his time.
*****
Dream 1: Stadium
I must have been thinking about the new Washington Nationals baseball stadium that just opened in the Anacostia section of D.C. I haven't seen any photos of the completed stadium, but I saw the plans, and didn't like them very much. Too much concrete. It looked like a big parking garage. I prefer the retro-looking red brick stadiums, such as Oriole Park in Baltimore, and the new Cardinals stadium in St. Louis.
Dream 2: Old Days
Unfortunately, Bernie did die several years ago. He was a nice guy, when not fighting with his siblings. I lost track of him when he went to college in the early 80s.
*****
March 2008 Dream Roundup
Family and Friends:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brud H. (had borrowed my car in "That's My Bug!")
Dad C.
Eddie M.
Jim E.
Mike K.
Preston W.
Sam F.
"Sis" (Dad's sister; my aunt)
Acquaintances and Coworkers:
Carlos A.
Christy J.
Jennie S.
Jim B.
Maureen R.
Samantha H.
Shannon F.
Shelley D.
Tracy M.
Celebrities:
Ben Cohen (Ben & Jerry's ice cream was featured in a commercial in "Good Then, Good Now")
Bruce Springsteen
George W. Bush
Holly Hunter (mentioned by British man in "Mad Dash")
Jerry Greenfield (Ben & Jerry's ice cream was featured in a commercial in "Good Then, Good Now")
John King (G.W. Bush suggested King as John McCain's choice for VP in "The Cheerleader")
John McCain (G.W. Bush spoke on behalf of McCain for president in "The Cheerleader")
Kevin Smith
Luke (the Apostle) (Springsteen mentioned Luke's book in "Unresolved")
Nick Lowe
Scott Glenn
Southside Johnny Lyon
W.C. Fields (I found a bio of him at 3374 in "Book")
I was standing on a sidewalk in the Cherrydale section of Arlington County, looking at the outside of a brand-new baseball stadium, made of red brick and iron. It towered over the landscape, and apparently took the place of a block of shops, including the 7-11 I used to visit after church. I thought, "It's probably fantastic on the inside, but it's too much for the neighborhood."
Dream 2: Old Days
I was standing with Jeff V., an old friend from high school days, and were were flipping through the pages of a photo album. At one point I said, "Hey! There's Bern!" Suddenly I wondered if I should have been more sensitive, since Jeff's brother Bernie had died before his time.
*****
Dream 1: Stadium
I must have been thinking about the new Washington Nationals baseball stadium that just opened in the Anacostia section of D.C. I haven't seen any photos of the completed stadium, but I saw the plans, and didn't like them very much. Too much concrete. It looked like a big parking garage. I prefer the retro-looking red brick stadiums, such as Oriole Park in Baltimore, and the new Cardinals stadium in St. Louis.
Dream 2: Old Days
Unfortunately, Bernie did die several years ago. He was a nice guy, when not fighting with his siblings. I lost track of him when he went to college in the early 80s.
*****
March 2008 Dream Roundup
Family and Friends:
My wife
Andrew C.
Brud H. (had borrowed my car in "That's My Bug!")
Dad C.
Eddie M.
Jim E.
Mike K.
Preston W.
Sam F.
"Sis" (Dad's sister; my aunt)
Acquaintances and Coworkers:
Carlos A.
Christy J.
Jennie S.
Jim B.
Maureen R.
Samantha H.
Shannon F.
Shelley D.
Tracy M.
Celebrities:
Ben Cohen (Ben & Jerry's ice cream was featured in a commercial in "Good Then, Good Now")
Bruce Springsteen
George W. Bush
Holly Hunter (mentioned by British man in "Mad Dash")
Jerry Greenfield (Ben & Jerry's ice cream was featured in a commercial in "Good Then, Good Now")
John King (G.W. Bush suggested King as John McCain's choice for VP in "The Cheerleader")
John McCain (G.W. Bush spoke on behalf of McCain for president in "The Cheerleader")
Kevin Smith
Luke (the Apostle) (Springsteen mentioned Luke's book in "Unresolved")
Nick Lowe
Scott Glenn
Southside Johnny Lyon
W.C. Fields (I found a bio of him at 3374 in "Book")
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