Wednesday night
Dream 1: My Wife's Favorite Dream Ever
My brother Andrew and I were both stressed out about our jobs, so I told him that I'd been to a small shopping center recently, and had seen a sign on a brick wall for "Feel Good Massage." I figured that that would help us relax, so he and I went back there to check it out. A slick black dude walked us back out into the middle of the parking lot, and placed us in the front seat of a rusted 1970s car. He rubbed Andrew's shoulders a bit, then, for effect, he lit the top and bottom of the car on fire, and calmly walked away. I turned to Drew and said, "I didn't even get a massage!" Drew said, "I did." I said, "Well, I didn't get SHIT, and now THIS CAR'S GONNA BLOW UP!" At that moment the burning car began to roll backward with us in it. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" It made several 360s in the parking lot, scaring us to death -- I thought it might bash through the front window of another business. It finally stopped just before doing so, but was blocking the entrance to someone else's store.
Dream 2: Things Have Changed
I went over to my friend Jarratt's house; he hadn't been around in awhile, so I wanted to catch up with him, and he wanted to know what had been happening in his absence. I took him over to the townhouse where I rented a room on Hyson Lane in Falls Church. I used to have the large basement room to myself, but no longer; now that room had turned into a business, and my desk was right next to my boss, Jennie S.'s desk. No matter what I did, I couldn't escape work.
Dream 3: Mentor
I was walking and talking with a friend; we both had bicycles. We were about to enter a building, so we were carrying our bikes up the steps. The friend was asking me about my friendship with Mick Jagger, about how we used to carouse and date so many different women. I explained how I'd taken Jagger under my wing: "Somebody had to show him the ropes." I was kidding. I think.
*****
Dream 1: My Wife's Favorite Dream Ever
My wife said that this dream perfectly captures my brother and me, and our "retardedness." She says that we should film ourselves acting this one out, and post it to You Tube.
We watched "The Bourne Ultimatum" the other night, and one of the extras showed Damon learning how to drive a police car and hit the pedals just so to make it spin out. My wife suggests that that's why the car in this dream was making circles in the parking lot.
Dream 2: Things Have Changed
My friend Jarratt died at age 27 in September of 1991. It's hard to believe that almost 17 years have passed.
My job is so stressful that I do sometimes feel that I can't escape it; there's so much to remember, so much to worry about...
Dream 3: Mentor
I finally got off my rear end and took my bike into the shop this past week, to get it road-ready again. It had been in our basement for about five years. The guy at the bike shop said that it was in remarkably good shape, but went on to explain how bike technology had completely changed since I'd bought my Giant Rincon (sort of a street bike / mountain bike hybrid). For instance, my bike is made of steel, but new bikes are much lighter. Also, many new bikes come with shocks, but mine doesn't have those. Anyway, all I needed was a couple of new tubes, so I got off easy. I'm picking it up on Friday, so take that, oil companies.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Get On With It!
Monday night
I had discovered a tape recording of my parents' wedding ceremony, and was listening to it, and suddenly there they were, in their 30s again, getting married before me. In this case, the ceremony was taking place in front of the home they would buy the next year, 3374 N. Dinwiddie Street. Also, my mom wasn't wearing a long white wedding dress; she was wearing a nice dark skirt, matching jacket and a dark hat. Dad wore a light gray suit.
As the ceremony progressed, one of the guests who was seated on the lawn behind my parents started yelling and interrupting the proceedings. It was my aunt, Dad's sister. She was in a good mood, but she was trying to hurry everyone along. She called out, "Has he kissed her yet?! Kiss Her!" Mom and Dad were flustered and embarrassed, and finally decided to give in and kiss each other, thus ending the ceremony prematurely. They turned and walked down the sidewalk and I could see that my mom wasn't too happy about the interruption. They hadn't even gotten to their vows. I said to Mom, "He didn't even declare you man and wife!" Mom replied, "It was awful."
A few minutes later Mom had changed to her older self, as I last knew her, and she and I were walking along Dinwiddie Street, talking. The wedding guests had disappeared, but there were some neighbors around, doing their thing. Mom moved a little slower than I remembered, and her face had a little bit of a tan, but other than that, it was the same ol'Mom. I also knew that she was gone and that no one could see her but me, so the neighbors would think that I was crazy for talking to myself, but I didn't care. It sure seemed real to me. I said to Mom, "So, when I'm dead, can I hang out with you?" She thought a minute and said, "That would be nice."
*****
No recordings exist of my parents' wedding, but I have seen some photographs. They weren't married in Arlington; their ceremony was held at St. Peter's Catholic Church in Washington, D.C., on March 30, 1957, at 3 p.m. The Reverend Peter Maher presided.
Nobody interrupted their wedding ceremony, either, especially "Sis." This dream came from the fact that Sis was somewhat involved in pushing us to change plans for our wedding reception. She wanted to get on the road back to South Carolina, so one or more of her children approached us and sort of strong-armed us to cut the cake at that moment, so they could then say their goodbyes and hit the road. I haven't seen my aunt since. That's not the only reason -- we moved to Tennessee shortly after the wedding, so if we travel, we're either going home to Virginia, or taking a vacation to a new place. We only have so much vacation time, and South Carolina has never fit into our plans.
I think that my parents' outfits in this dream came from a photo I'd seen of them on an Easter Sunday in the 1950s. I haven't seen many pictures of my mom wearing hats, but she did on special occasions back in those days.
By the way, an odd coincidence occurred to me this morning, concerning Mom and her life at 3374 N. Dinwiddie. She moved into the house when she was 33, and left it for the last time when she was 74...
I had discovered a tape recording of my parents' wedding ceremony, and was listening to it, and suddenly there they were, in their 30s again, getting married before me. In this case, the ceremony was taking place in front of the home they would buy the next year, 3374 N. Dinwiddie Street. Also, my mom wasn't wearing a long white wedding dress; she was wearing a nice dark skirt, matching jacket and a dark hat. Dad wore a light gray suit.
As the ceremony progressed, one of the guests who was seated on the lawn behind my parents started yelling and interrupting the proceedings. It was my aunt, Dad's sister. She was in a good mood, but she was trying to hurry everyone along. She called out, "Has he kissed her yet?! Kiss Her!" Mom and Dad were flustered and embarrassed, and finally decided to give in and kiss each other, thus ending the ceremony prematurely. They turned and walked down the sidewalk and I could see that my mom wasn't too happy about the interruption. They hadn't even gotten to their vows. I said to Mom, "He didn't even declare you man and wife!" Mom replied, "It was awful."
A few minutes later Mom had changed to her older self, as I last knew her, and she and I were walking along Dinwiddie Street, talking. The wedding guests had disappeared, but there were some neighbors around, doing their thing. Mom moved a little slower than I remembered, and her face had a little bit of a tan, but other than that, it was the same ol'Mom. I also knew that she was gone and that no one could see her but me, so the neighbors would think that I was crazy for talking to myself, but I didn't care. It sure seemed real to me. I said to Mom, "So, when I'm dead, can I hang out with you?" She thought a minute and said, "That would be nice."
*****
No recordings exist of my parents' wedding, but I have seen some photographs. They weren't married in Arlington; their ceremony was held at St. Peter's Catholic Church in Washington, D.C., on March 30, 1957, at 3 p.m. The Reverend Peter Maher presided.
Nobody interrupted their wedding ceremony, either, especially "Sis." This dream came from the fact that Sis was somewhat involved in pushing us to change plans for our wedding reception. She wanted to get on the road back to South Carolina, so one or more of her children approached us and sort of strong-armed us to cut the cake at that moment, so they could then say their goodbyes and hit the road. I haven't seen my aunt since. That's not the only reason -- we moved to Tennessee shortly after the wedding, so if we travel, we're either going home to Virginia, or taking a vacation to a new place. We only have so much vacation time, and South Carolina has never fit into our plans.
I think that my parents' outfits in this dream came from a photo I'd seen of them on an Easter Sunday in the 1950s. I haven't seen many pictures of my mom wearing hats, but she did on special occasions back in those days.
By the way, an odd coincidence occurred to me this morning, concerning Mom and her life at 3374 N. Dinwiddie. She moved into the house when she was 33, and left it for the last time when she was 74...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Originals / Night of the Mutant Cats
Monday night
Dream 1: The Originals
The Pretenders had released their first album, and were about to appear on the Tonight Show. They were nice enough to invite their original (pre-Chrissie Hynde) lead singer (another woman) and the guy who was their guitarist before James Honeyman-Scott, to watch the performance. I met those two in the Green Room. I asked the singer, "What are you doing now?" She said she was fortunate to have grown up in Nashville, so she had connections in the music business, and was working on her own material.
Dream 2: Night of the Mutant Cats
It was Halloween night, and a band of mutant ghost cats was roaming around. They were still cats, all right, but they could walk on their hind legs at will, and had some type of pointy protrusions sticking out of their bulked-up bodies, albeit covered in fur. They looked as if they were normal black cats who had survived some nuclear fallout, and were pissed off about it. Anyway, they were locating and entering houses where kids had mistreated their pets. I saw them crawl through an open window and find a nice-looking golden retriever; they fed Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to it. The idea was that the dog would die and join the mutant band, and that would teach those kids a lesson.
*****
Dream 1: The Originals
These earlier band members are figments of my imagination.
Dream 2: Night of the Mutant Cats
My wife often reminds me not to leave any chocolate out, whether it's ice cream in a bowl, or cake frosting on a plate; if our cat got into it, she'd get very sick.
Dream 1: The Originals
The Pretenders had released their first album, and were about to appear on the Tonight Show. They were nice enough to invite their original (pre-Chrissie Hynde) lead singer (another woman) and the guy who was their guitarist before James Honeyman-Scott, to watch the performance. I met those two in the Green Room. I asked the singer, "What are you doing now?" She said she was fortunate to have grown up in Nashville, so she had connections in the music business, and was working on her own material.
Dream 2: Night of the Mutant Cats
It was Halloween night, and a band of mutant ghost cats was roaming around. They were still cats, all right, but they could walk on their hind legs at will, and had some type of pointy protrusions sticking out of their bulked-up bodies, albeit covered in fur. They looked as if they were normal black cats who had survived some nuclear fallout, and were pissed off about it. Anyway, they were locating and entering houses where kids had mistreated their pets. I saw them crawl through an open window and find a nice-looking golden retriever; they fed Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to it. The idea was that the dog would die and join the mutant band, and that would teach those kids a lesson.
*****
Dream 1: The Originals
These earlier band members are figments of my imagination.
Dream 2: Night of the Mutant Cats
My wife often reminds me not to leave any chocolate out, whether it's ice cream in a bowl, or cake frosting on a plate; if our cat got into it, she'd get very sick.
Down to the Wire
Sunday night
My brother Andrew and I were watching the Super Bowl. The game was in its final seconds, and the Redskins were losing. They were kicking off, and decided to try the onside kick trick. They lined up, kicked the ball the requisite number of yards, and pounced on it, so it was their ball again. That was great, but Drew was still nervous. He said, "I don't like this; it's still 57 to 51, so they will still need to score a touchdown."
*****
That was quite the defensive battle.
My brother Andrew and I were watching the Super Bowl. The game was in its final seconds, and the Redskins were losing. They were kicking off, and decided to try the onside kick trick. They lined up, kicked the ball the requisite number of yards, and pounced on it, so it was their ball again. That was great, but Drew was still nervous. He said, "I don't like this; it's still 57 to 51, so they will still need to score a touchdown."
*****
That was quite the defensive battle.
In Search of an Exit
Saturday night
My wife and our friends Steve and Kristin S. were all in a car, driving around a cul-de-sac. I was on foot, watching them. They were smiling and encouraging me, trying to show me the way out.
*****
I'm not quite sure why I couldn't find it myself, unless this is just a BIG METAPHOR for something...
My wife and our friends Steve and Kristin S. were all in a car, driving around a cul-de-sac. I was on foot, watching them. They were smiling and encouraging me, trying to show me the way out.
*****
I'm not quite sure why I couldn't find it myself, unless this is just a BIG METAPHOR for something...
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Ogling
Friday night
Some strange sort of sex party was going on in a large hotel suite. Young women in various states of dress and undress were standing around -- some appeared to be wearing black and white uniforms, as if they were maids -- others wore next to nothing. Actor Ted Cassidy strolled through the room, admiring the women, as if he was on a shopping excursion in a grocery store. He was fully clothed, and wore a white tuxedo jacket over black pants. He could be heard expressing his appreciation in short hums: "Hmmm. HMMMM. HMMMM!"
*****
Creepy. This dream may have been inspired by a film I watched on DVD the other night, "American Gangster." Denzel Washington's character set up a drug factory of sorts in an apartment building. A suite of rooms was crammed with people who cut, weighed and packaged heroin. Many of the women who worked in the factory did so in the nude, so they couldn't steal anything.
Ted Cassidy played Ruk in a Star Trek episode called "What Little Girls Are Made Of," but was most famous as Lurch in the Addams Family TV show. And no, he was not that "Jaws" guy with the shiny teeth in the James Bond films. I thought he was, too, but that was Richard Kiel, another gigantic dude.
Some strange sort of sex party was going on in a large hotel suite. Young women in various states of dress and undress were standing around -- some appeared to be wearing black and white uniforms, as if they were maids -- others wore next to nothing. Actor Ted Cassidy strolled through the room, admiring the women, as if he was on a shopping excursion in a grocery store. He was fully clothed, and wore a white tuxedo jacket over black pants. He could be heard expressing his appreciation in short hums: "Hmmm. HMMMM. HMMMM!"
*****
Creepy. This dream may have been inspired by a film I watched on DVD the other night, "American Gangster." Denzel Washington's character set up a drug factory of sorts in an apartment building. A suite of rooms was crammed with people who cut, weighed and packaged heroin. Many of the women who worked in the factory did so in the nude, so they couldn't steal anything.
Ted Cassidy played Ruk in a Star Trek episode called "What Little Girls Are Made Of," but was most famous as Lurch in the Addams Family TV show. And no, he was not that "Jaws" guy with the shiny teeth in the James Bond films. I thought he was, too, but that was Richard Kiel, another gigantic dude.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Man with a Plan / R.I.P.
Wednesday night
Dream 1: Man with a Plan
Julia Roberts came to see Harrison Ford to get him to draw up plans for a large house being constructed for Roberts and her boyfriend. Feeling nostalgic, she brought with her a portrait of herself with Ford, painted many years ago, when the two of them starred in a movie. Soon it became apparent that she'd had feelings for Ford ever since. Ford came up with a plan -- he'd design a house that was so sleek and modern that there would be no way the boyfriend would like it; he'd leave Roberts and then Julia and Harrison could be together.
Dream 2: R.I.P.
I found out that one of my oldest friends, Denis G., had died. Shortly thereafter, I visited another friend, Preston, at his house, and hung out for awhile, watching TV, listening to music, the usual stuff. I'd brought a gift with me for Denis'es family, but when I took off, I left it at Preston's. I headed over to Mom and Dad's neighborhood, with the intention of calling on Denis'es parents, at their home. (Denis grew up on 34th Street, but in this dream, their house was at the corner of Dinwiddie and Dickerson, on the point.) Anyway, I went to the bereaved family's home, to see what I could do. I had parked my car and walked down the steep hill into their backyard when I saw a delivery truck pull up on Dinwiddie. Word had gotten out about the tragedy, so a man was dropping off flowers, fruit baskets and cards from other friends, including Brent and Stacy L. I took charge of these items and was about to walk up the back steps to the house when I realized that I wasn't wearing a shirt, so I figured that it might not be appropriate. I turned to my coworker, Jason, who also happened to be on the scene, and asked him to carry the deliveries inside; then I proceeded to call Preston, and asked him to bring me the gift I'd left at his place.
*****
We'll be seeing the new Indiana Jones movie this weekend. Last night I was reading about the U.S. premiere, held at Magic Johnson's theater complex in Harlem, New York. I don't believe that Harrison Ford and Julia Roberts have ever appeared in the same film. Ford is a carpenter; that's how he supported himself between "American Graffiti" and "Star Wars."
Denis'es family's house in this dream actually belonged to a girl who lived in my neighborhood, Cathy C., and her family. I think she was a contemporary of my big brother, Jimmie. She may have babysat for me once or twice. I have fond memories of that hill in their backyard. We spent many happy hours sledding there.
I think I met Denis when I was about 3. He and his family moved out of our neighborhood when he was a teenager, but they remained in Arlington. As far as I know, Denis, his wife and kids still live in Arlington, and all are alive and well.
Dream 1: Man with a Plan
Julia Roberts came to see Harrison Ford to get him to draw up plans for a large house being constructed for Roberts and her boyfriend. Feeling nostalgic, she brought with her a portrait of herself with Ford, painted many years ago, when the two of them starred in a movie. Soon it became apparent that she'd had feelings for Ford ever since. Ford came up with a plan -- he'd design a house that was so sleek and modern that there would be no way the boyfriend would like it; he'd leave Roberts and then Julia and Harrison could be together.
Dream 2: R.I.P.
I found out that one of my oldest friends, Denis G., had died. Shortly thereafter, I visited another friend, Preston, at his house, and hung out for awhile, watching TV, listening to music, the usual stuff. I'd brought a gift with me for Denis'es family, but when I took off, I left it at Preston's. I headed over to Mom and Dad's neighborhood, with the intention of calling on Denis'es parents, at their home. (Denis grew up on 34th Street, but in this dream, their house was at the corner of Dinwiddie and Dickerson, on the point.) Anyway, I went to the bereaved family's home, to see what I could do. I had parked my car and walked down the steep hill into their backyard when I saw a delivery truck pull up on Dinwiddie. Word had gotten out about the tragedy, so a man was dropping off flowers, fruit baskets and cards from other friends, including Brent and Stacy L. I took charge of these items and was about to walk up the back steps to the house when I realized that I wasn't wearing a shirt, so I figured that it might not be appropriate. I turned to my coworker, Jason, who also happened to be on the scene, and asked him to carry the deliveries inside; then I proceeded to call Preston, and asked him to bring me the gift I'd left at his place.
*****
We'll be seeing the new Indiana Jones movie this weekend. Last night I was reading about the U.S. premiere, held at Magic Johnson's theater complex in Harlem, New York. I don't believe that Harrison Ford and Julia Roberts have ever appeared in the same film. Ford is a carpenter; that's how he supported himself between "American Graffiti" and "Star Wars."
Denis'es family's house in this dream actually belonged to a girl who lived in my neighborhood, Cathy C., and her family. I think she was a contemporary of my big brother, Jimmie. She may have babysat for me once or twice. I have fond memories of that hill in their backyard. We spent many happy hours sledding there.
I think I met Denis when I was about 3. He and his family moved out of our neighborhood when he was a teenager, but they remained in Arlington. As far as I know, Denis, his wife and kids still live in Arlington, and all are alive and well.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Save the Date
I was dating a blonde, and she was a bad dame, which had its up and down sides. In fact, she was so bad, she had been sentenced to jail for 18 years. This dream opened in a small courthouse, or police station. It was nighttime, and the place was deserted. My gal pal was about to begin her sentence, but apparently the guard had taken pity on us, and took a hike. We stood outside her cell, and were making out furiously -- her back was to the bars. I was kissing her neck and making suggestions that I need not repeat here. Anyway, it turned out that I was allowed to visit her once a year. In the midst of our passion, she said, "You could see me [every] December 16th!" I said, "Uh, I don't think my [future] wife would like that very much!"
*****
Kinky, but pretty funny. This story seems ripped from a trashy 1950s novel, or from one of the film noirs of that era that I love.
The dialog, if not the actual scene, could have been inspired by Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor in "The Maltese Falcon," or maybe Ed MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck in "Double Indemnity."
It's too bad that the dream ended without a few more lines of tough talk; something like, "You got yourself into this, baby, and you're gonna' take the rap, not me. Good luck, sweetheart -- I'm gettin' on with my life!"
*****
Kinky, but pretty funny. This story seems ripped from a trashy 1950s novel, or from one of the film noirs of that era that I love.
The dialog, if not the actual scene, could have been inspired by Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor in "The Maltese Falcon," or maybe Ed MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck in "Double Indemnity."
It's too bad that the dream ended without a few more lines of tough talk; something like, "You got yourself into this, baby, and you're gonna' take the rap, not me. Good luck, sweetheart -- I'm gettin' on with my life!"
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Babysitter
Monday night
I was attending a house party; most of the guests were coworkers, but I saw my friend Mike K. walk in and wave when he saw me. It was a pretty laid back affair. My coworker Jessica M. was there with her daughter, Maliha, who is 2. I offered to watch Maliha for awhile so Jessica could mingle with guests in the dining room, so Jess walked off as Maliha sat on my knee. At first she was facing toward the front, looking around the room. I would whisper, "What do you see?" and she would tell me. At one point something scared her -- probably too many people or too much commotion -- and she started to get upset, so I picked her up, turned her around and gave her a hug, and she was OK. She wasn't crying anymore, but as she looked up at me, I noticed that small bumps had begun to appear all over her face. They weren't red, just bumps. I became alarmed that she was having an allergic reaction to something she was eating. I thought about calling out to Jessica, but thought that she wouldn't hear me over everyone else's conversation, so I dialed her up on my cell phone. Jessica came back soon enough, but didn't seem overly concerned. In fact, she hardly took notice of the situation, saying something like, "Oh, it's all right," and spent more time investigating what was in a closet over to our right. Fortunately, the bumps disappeared after a few minutes.
*****
I've never met Maliha, but have seen several pictures of her. She's a very pretty little girl.
This dream is not based in reality; if anything was happening to her child, I'm sure Jessica would respond immediately, and run over anyone who was in her way. This dream came from conversations Jessica and I have had about Maliha's day care -- about how often the other kids there are sick, and about how many of them have allergies to certain foods that we took for granted when we were kids (peanut butter, etc.).
I was attending a house party; most of the guests were coworkers, but I saw my friend Mike K. walk in and wave when he saw me. It was a pretty laid back affair. My coworker Jessica M. was there with her daughter, Maliha, who is 2. I offered to watch Maliha for awhile so Jessica could mingle with guests in the dining room, so Jess walked off as Maliha sat on my knee. At first she was facing toward the front, looking around the room. I would whisper, "What do you see?" and she would tell me. At one point something scared her -- probably too many people or too much commotion -- and she started to get upset, so I picked her up, turned her around and gave her a hug, and she was OK. She wasn't crying anymore, but as she looked up at me, I noticed that small bumps had begun to appear all over her face. They weren't red, just bumps. I became alarmed that she was having an allergic reaction to something she was eating. I thought about calling out to Jessica, but thought that she wouldn't hear me over everyone else's conversation, so I dialed her up on my cell phone. Jessica came back soon enough, but didn't seem overly concerned. In fact, she hardly took notice of the situation, saying something like, "Oh, it's all right," and spent more time investigating what was in a closet over to our right. Fortunately, the bumps disappeared after a few minutes.
*****
I've never met Maliha, but have seen several pictures of her. She's a very pretty little girl.
This dream is not based in reality; if anything was happening to her child, I'm sure Jessica would respond immediately, and run over anyone who was in her way. This dream came from conversations Jessica and I have had about Maliha's day care -- about how often the other kids there are sick, and about how many of them have allergies to certain foods that we took for granted when we were kids (peanut butter, etc.).
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Torn
Saturday night
My friend Gordy was working at a movie theater, and I went by to say hello and have a chat. His boss, a plump black woman who was a little older than we were -- we appeared to be in our early 20s, if that -- wasn't happy that I was distracting him. I clammed up until she walked away. Gordy tried to talk me into walking into the theater with him to watch the new Indiana Jones movie. I really wanted to see it, but when I sat down next to him, I glanced at my watch. It was 7:15, and Mom and Dad would be expecting me for dinner back at home.
*****
I don't think Gordy ever worked at a theater, but he should own stock in a theater chain, for all of the money that he's paid them over the years.
A new Indiana Jones movie comes out next week. I'll see it, although I've heard rumblings of so-so reviews in the blogosphere.
My friend Gordy was working at a movie theater, and I went by to say hello and have a chat. His boss, a plump black woman who was a little older than we were -- we appeared to be in our early 20s, if that -- wasn't happy that I was distracting him. I clammed up until she walked away. Gordy tried to talk me into walking into the theater with him to watch the new Indiana Jones movie. I really wanted to see it, but when I sat down next to him, I glanced at my watch. It was 7:15, and Mom and Dad would be expecting me for dinner back at home.
*****
I don't think Gordy ever worked at a theater, but he should own stock in a theater chain, for all of the money that he's paid them over the years.
A new Indiana Jones movie comes out next week. I'll see it, although I've heard rumblings of so-so reviews in the blogosphere.
Memory Garden
Friday night
I was on vacation, and had rented a nice house built in the early 20th century; or, at least I had rented a room in said house. I soon realized that I was not alone. I had driven a purple car, sort of a mod, sleek, long pickup truck, and parked it near the house. After dropping off my stuff, I'd gone for a walk. When I came back I found that some other person had not only parked right next to me in the spot -- he had a car that somehow merged exactly with mine to create some super duper truck thingy. By that, I mean that I could still see my purple car underneath, on the right side of the contraption, but now there was this other white car on the whole left side of my vehicle, and a camper cab extended over the back portion. I should have been angry, but I was pretty fascinated. The chance of meeting someone whose car would snap perfectly onto mine was one in a million, and here he (or she) was, renting the same house I was. I peered through a front side window and saw that the ashtray was pulled out. That wasn't a good sign.
I walked inside and found that there was no privacy in my room, either. Someone had picked through some of the cassette tapes I'd piled on top of my dresser and had opened some of the drawers. I walked around to another room where I found the man who owned the white camper car -- he seemed to be about 30. I said, "Hello. I can't believe that your car snaps onto mine like that!" He didn't say anything -- he was getting ready to take a shower. He walked toward the bathroom and started to disrobe, so I turned away before I saw any naughty bits, and continued exploring the rest of the house. To my surprise, I found several women in the kitchen. They were all part of a large, multi-generational Jewish family, and they were preparing lunch. A plate of brownies was on the kitchen table. The oldest woman, short and plump, saw me and said, "Hello, Mr. [my first name]."
I continued walking through the house, heading to my right, and came to a doorway that was open to the outside. There I saw what I'd come to witness in the first place. That part of the house sat at the top of a thin winding street; the area seemed to be part of a claustrophobic, cramped old European neighborhood. Someone had erected concrete benches, more like steps, on either side of the road, and people from miles around were gathered, awaiting the arrival of a celebrity. Suddenly someone called out, "There He Is!" I looked down and saw Tim Burton, tousled hair and all, walking up the street. He was there to direct some scenes for his upcoming movie. He made his way to a high step near the house. I saw that his name was stamped in the concrete in capital letters, so no one else would take his seat.
Having seen Mr. Burton, I walked back through the rental house, and outside, across the yard, to the garden. There I was joined by my brother, Andrew, who said, "I had that game closed TWICE [but lost]. I really need a first baseman." It wasn't clear whether he was talking about some Wiffle Ball games that he'd pitched, or about professional players he "owned" in a Rotisserie baseball league. In any case, I was far more interested in the garden. It appeared to be a tribute to one or more women who lived in the house back in the Victorian era. I saw some beautiful sculptures of women's heads, lovingly rendered in glass, larger than life-size, and mounted on poles. (At least one had a light bulb inside, for illumination in the evening.) The thing that really knocked me out was that many of the trees in the garden -- all about the size of dogwoods -- had somehow been turned into portraits of these women from long ago. They were extraordinary, and very detailed. Viewed from several feet away, the trees seemed to come alive; the leaves formed the hair, cherries took place of eyes; vines became wisps of hair that trailed along the bark "neck." Some trees had been expertly trained to appear to be lovely silhouettes of womens' faces. All of the works seemed to echo the art of Charles Dana Gibson. In a hushed voice, I called out to my brother: "Look, Andrew! They're people!"
*****
Tim Burton again. How strange. I'm not a big fan of his films, but I liked "Edward Scissorhands" OK, mainly because Vincent Price was in it.
My wife and I were back in Virginia recently, and played a game of Wiffle Ball with the nieces and nephews. While my team was at bat, my wife's 6-year-old teammate moped at her left, calling out, "But I don't know HOW to play first base!" I suppose that that was still better than my 5-year-old teammate, who rode his bike around the infield, calling out, "I don't know the rules! I don't know the rules!"
My next-door neighbor, Hilda, and her husband, Jack, invited my wife and me for dinner at their place on Friday night. Hilda frequently greets me with, "Hello, Mr. [my first name]," as the Jewish grandmother did in the kitchen.
The images of the women in the garden probably came from Victorian photographs that I saw in an antique shop during our drive back home last Monday. I always wonder where those people went and what became of them after their photos were taken.
The car that I drove in this dream is one of my prized vintage Hot Wheels, a purple 1968 Custom Fleetside, which was based on a custom Chevrolet El Camino pickup. I told my wife about this dream, and said that if I ever hit the jackpot, I'd love to have some of those guys out in California who build Hot Rods construct me the Hot Wheels car of my dreams. It probably wouldn't be the Custom Fleetside, however; more likely the Silhouette, the Splittin' Image, or the Classic '32 Ford Vicky. She said she'd take a G.T.O.
I was on vacation, and had rented a nice house built in the early 20th century; or, at least I had rented a room in said house. I soon realized that I was not alone. I had driven a purple car, sort of a mod, sleek, long pickup truck, and parked it near the house. After dropping off my stuff, I'd gone for a walk. When I came back I found that some other person had not only parked right next to me in the spot -- he had a car that somehow merged exactly with mine to create some super duper truck thingy. By that, I mean that I could still see my purple car underneath, on the right side of the contraption, but now there was this other white car on the whole left side of my vehicle, and a camper cab extended over the back portion. I should have been angry, but I was pretty fascinated. The chance of meeting someone whose car would snap perfectly onto mine was one in a million, and here he (or she) was, renting the same house I was. I peered through a front side window and saw that the ashtray was pulled out. That wasn't a good sign.
I walked inside and found that there was no privacy in my room, either. Someone had picked through some of the cassette tapes I'd piled on top of my dresser and had opened some of the drawers. I walked around to another room where I found the man who owned the white camper car -- he seemed to be about 30. I said, "Hello. I can't believe that your car snaps onto mine like that!" He didn't say anything -- he was getting ready to take a shower. He walked toward the bathroom and started to disrobe, so I turned away before I saw any naughty bits, and continued exploring the rest of the house. To my surprise, I found several women in the kitchen. They were all part of a large, multi-generational Jewish family, and they were preparing lunch. A plate of brownies was on the kitchen table. The oldest woman, short and plump, saw me and said, "Hello, Mr. [my first name]."
I continued walking through the house, heading to my right, and came to a doorway that was open to the outside. There I saw what I'd come to witness in the first place. That part of the house sat at the top of a thin winding street; the area seemed to be part of a claustrophobic, cramped old European neighborhood. Someone had erected concrete benches, more like steps, on either side of the road, and people from miles around were gathered, awaiting the arrival of a celebrity. Suddenly someone called out, "There He Is!" I looked down and saw Tim Burton, tousled hair and all, walking up the street. He was there to direct some scenes for his upcoming movie. He made his way to a high step near the house. I saw that his name was stamped in the concrete in capital letters, so no one else would take his seat.
Having seen Mr. Burton, I walked back through the rental house, and outside, across the yard, to the garden. There I was joined by my brother, Andrew, who said, "I had that game closed TWICE [but lost]. I really need a first baseman." It wasn't clear whether he was talking about some Wiffle Ball games that he'd pitched, or about professional players he "owned" in a Rotisserie baseball league. In any case, I was far more interested in the garden. It appeared to be a tribute to one or more women who lived in the house back in the Victorian era. I saw some beautiful sculptures of women's heads, lovingly rendered in glass, larger than life-size, and mounted on poles. (At least one had a light bulb inside, for illumination in the evening.) The thing that really knocked me out was that many of the trees in the garden -- all about the size of dogwoods -- had somehow been turned into portraits of these women from long ago. They were extraordinary, and very detailed. Viewed from several feet away, the trees seemed to come alive; the leaves formed the hair, cherries took place of eyes; vines became wisps of hair that trailed along the bark "neck." Some trees had been expertly trained to appear to be lovely silhouettes of womens' faces. All of the works seemed to echo the art of Charles Dana Gibson. In a hushed voice, I called out to my brother: "Look, Andrew! They're people!"
*****
Tim Burton again. How strange. I'm not a big fan of his films, but I liked "Edward Scissorhands" OK, mainly because Vincent Price was in it.
My wife and I were back in Virginia recently, and played a game of Wiffle Ball with the nieces and nephews. While my team was at bat, my wife's 6-year-old teammate moped at her left, calling out, "But I don't know HOW to play first base!" I suppose that that was still better than my 5-year-old teammate, who rode his bike around the infield, calling out, "I don't know the rules! I don't know the rules!"
My next-door neighbor, Hilda, and her husband, Jack, invited my wife and me for dinner at their place on Friday night. Hilda frequently greets me with, "Hello, Mr. [my first name]," as the Jewish grandmother did in the kitchen.
The images of the women in the garden probably came from Victorian photographs that I saw in an antique shop during our drive back home last Monday. I always wonder where those people went and what became of them after their photos were taken.
The car that I drove in this dream is one of my prized vintage Hot Wheels, a purple 1968 Custom Fleetside, which was based on a custom Chevrolet El Camino pickup. I told my wife about this dream, and said that if I ever hit the jackpot, I'd love to have some of those guys out in California who build Hot Rods construct me the Hot Wheels car of my dreams. It probably wouldn't be the Custom Fleetside, however; more likely the Silhouette, the Splittin' Image, or the Classic '32 Ford Vicky. She said she'd take a G.T.O.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Stealing the Spotlight / Amsterdam / New Guy
Thursday night
Dream 1: Stealing the Spotlight
Nat King Cole was standing in his home, looking at a sleeveless record, and he was considerably unhappy. He and Frank Sinatra had been planning on recording a duet, with Nat taking the lead and Frank singing harmony in the background. Frank had sent Nat an acetate featuring the song with his proposed arrangement, and Nat was chagrined to hear that Frank would be far louder and more "out front" than they had planned.
Dream 2: Amsterdam
I was vacationing in Amsterdam, and it happened that Bono and George Harrison were there too. In fact, word was getting around that the two of them were signing items at a small local book shop, as a favor to the owner. I saw one person walk by carrying a blue plastic bag emblazoned with Harrison's neat cursive signature, signed boldly in black. After walking for a few minutes in the downtown area I came upon a shop which was elevated from the street, as if it was built on stilts. It was covered in wooden siding, and seemed to be longer than it was tall. The front entrance was reachable by climbing a metal stairway that had holes in it, for drainage, so it wouldn't be slippery when it rained. I glanced up at the porch at the top of the stairs. Bono was standing outside. A young male fan, not yet a teenager, ran up to greet him. Bono bent down in time to give him a hug.
Dream 3: New Guy
I had traveled to Virginia for the poker tournament, and had made it to the third and final round, which was hosted by my friend, Eddie M. Several of the regulars were there, including my brother Andrew, but there was one guy that I didn't recognize. Ed said, "This is one of my old college buddies, and I told him he could play, too." Drew and I were outraged. We had already put money on the line in two rounds; it's against tourney rules for someone to join in the third round and compete for the plaque. Any new person is required to play in rounds 1 and 2, and end up in the top 6 to compete in the 3rd round. I hadn't driven over 600 miles for this guy to disqualify the round. Drew said, "I'm Out," meaning that he wouldn't play under those circumstances. I balked, too.
*****
Dream 1: Stealing the Spotlight
One of my coworkers recently lent me a 4-disc box set of Nat King Cole's recordings, and I read the enclosed booklet from cover to cover. This dream was conjured up from a photo of Cole and his Capitol Records label mate, Sinatra, from that book. From all appearances, they got along great. I don't recall any duets between Cole and Sinatra, but Cole sang one with Dean Martin in 1954 called "Open up the Doghouse (Two Cats Are Comin' In)" which was pretty funny. [I listened to this song more closely later, and found that it contains really nasty lyrics about how men should treat women. Nat sings, "You've got to treat 'em rough," and Dean says, "You gotta smack 'em." I think that's disgusting. There's nothing funny about that at all.]
Dream 2: My coworker Maureen and I were discussing Amsterdam last week. Her boyfriend is studying in Europe for awhile, and he was planning on stopping in Amsterdam before going on to Italy. I told her that my neighbors were there a few years ago, and I've always wanted to see the city. Mo has been there, too, and told me about the canal, the flowers, the architecture, everybody smoking...
Dream 3: Andrew and I played the second round of the poker tournament recently at Eddie M.'s house. Drew graduated to the third round, later this year; I did not. There were no "crashers."
Dream 1: Stealing the Spotlight
Nat King Cole was standing in his home, looking at a sleeveless record, and he was considerably unhappy. He and Frank Sinatra had been planning on recording a duet, with Nat taking the lead and Frank singing harmony in the background. Frank had sent Nat an acetate featuring the song with his proposed arrangement, and Nat was chagrined to hear that Frank would be far louder and more "out front" than they had planned.
Dream 2: Amsterdam
I was vacationing in Amsterdam, and it happened that Bono and George Harrison were there too. In fact, word was getting around that the two of them were signing items at a small local book shop, as a favor to the owner. I saw one person walk by carrying a blue plastic bag emblazoned with Harrison's neat cursive signature, signed boldly in black. After walking for a few minutes in the downtown area I came upon a shop which was elevated from the street, as if it was built on stilts. It was covered in wooden siding, and seemed to be longer than it was tall. The front entrance was reachable by climbing a metal stairway that had holes in it, for drainage, so it wouldn't be slippery when it rained. I glanced up at the porch at the top of the stairs. Bono was standing outside. A young male fan, not yet a teenager, ran up to greet him. Bono bent down in time to give him a hug.
Dream 3: New Guy
I had traveled to Virginia for the poker tournament, and had made it to the third and final round, which was hosted by my friend, Eddie M. Several of the regulars were there, including my brother Andrew, but there was one guy that I didn't recognize. Ed said, "This is one of my old college buddies, and I told him he could play, too." Drew and I were outraged. We had already put money on the line in two rounds; it's against tourney rules for someone to join in the third round and compete for the plaque. Any new person is required to play in rounds 1 and 2, and end up in the top 6 to compete in the 3rd round. I hadn't driven over 600 miles for this guy to disqualify the round. Drew said, "I'm Out," meaning that he wouldn't play under those circumstances. I balked, too.
*****
Dream 1: Stealing the Spotlight
One of my coworkers recently lent me a 4-disc box set of Nat King Cole's recordings, and I read the enclosed booklet from cover to cover. This dream was conjured up from a photo of Cole and his Capitol Records label mate, Sinatra, from that book. From all appearances, they got along great. I don't recall any duets between Cole and Sinatra, but Cole sang one with Dean Martin in 1954 called "Open up the Doghouse (Two Cats Are Comin' In)" which was pretty funny. [I listened to this song more closely later, and found that it contains really nasty lyrics about how men should treat women. Nat sings, "You've got to treat 'em rough," and Dean says, "You gotta smack 'em." I think that's disgusting. There's nothing funny about that at all.]
Dream 2: My coworker Maureen and I were discussing Amsterdam last week. Her boyfriend is studying in Europe for awhile, and he was planning on stopping in Amsterdam before going on to Italy. I told her that my neighbors were there a few years ago, and I've always wanted to see the city. Mo has been there, too, and told me about the canal, the flowers, the architecture, everybody smoking...
Dream 3: Andrew and I played the second round of the poker tournament recently at Eddie M.'s house. Drew graduated to the third round, later this year; I did not. There were no "crashers."
Pack Up
Monday night (5/12)
I was out of town, away on a business trip, and my wife was back at home in our apartment in Arlington. When I returned, I found that someone had made her an offer for our place that had been too good to turn down. She had already sealed the deal, made a profit, and told me to pack up -- it was time for us to find another place in town.
*****
We visited with my dad in Arlington during the previous weekend, and took a brief drive around our old haunts, past our old apartment(s) and some interesting new developments in the area within a mile or two from the Arlington Court House.
I was out of town, away on a business trip, and my wife was back at home in our apartment in Arlington. When I returned, I found that someone had made her an offer for our place that had been too good to turn down. She had already sealed the deal, made a profit, and told me to pack up -- it was time for us to find another place in town.
*****
We visited with my dad in Arlington during the previous weekend, and took a brief drive around our old haunts, past our old apartment(s) and some interesting new developments in the area within a mile or two from the Arlington Court House.
The Hawker
Friday night (5/9, Manassas, VA)
I was attending a sports memorabilia show where a man was selling autographs of famous athletes. As a bonus, he [the seller, not the athlete] would personalize the photos for the person willing to cough up the most dough. He was a bit of a con artist, but I saw that he was selling an autographed photo of Giants great Willie Mays, so I was interested. I hovered around a table where the hawker was sitting, and was soon joined by a rival who also wanted the photo; he looked a little like Michael Jordan, and he sat across from me. I could tell that the new arrival knew the man who was holding the photos, and had bought items from him in the past. The three of us eyed each other warily. To heighten the tension, the seller took out his pen and wrote "To" on the top of the picture. At that moment, Willie Mays himself strolled into the scene and stood behind us, frowning at the goings-on.
*****
Always liked that Wille Mays.
I was attending a sports memorabilia show where a man was selling autographs of famous athletes. As a bonus, he [the seller, not the athlete] would personalize the photos for the person willing to cough up the most dough. He was a bit of a con artist, but I saw that he was selling an autographed photo of Giants great Willie Mays, so I was interested. I hovered around a table where the hawker was sitting, and was soon joined by a rival who also wanted the photo; he looked a little like Michael Jordan, and he sat across from me. I could tell that the new arrival knew the man who was holding the photos, and had bought items from him in the past. The three of us eyed each other warily. To heighten the tension, the seller took out his pen and wrote "To" on the top of the picture. At that moment, Willie Mays himself strolled into the scene and stood behind us, frowning at the goings-on.
*****
Always liked that Wille Mays.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
Tuesday night
My family was gathered in the living room at 3374, and everyone was dressed up like it was Easter Sunday. This was an even grander occasion: I was about to marry my big brother, Jimmie. (And I don't mean that I would be performing the ceremony -- I mean that he and I would be the grooms.) Everyone was in a good mood, glad that I was finally settling down. I wasn't nearly as happy as they were; I was extremely nervous, and sweat was pouring down my face. At one point I apologized to the assembled crowd, and said that I had to remove my sportcoat. Finally, I decided that I just couldn't go through with it, and backed out. Everyone was pretty upset; I had called off an earlier wedding with someone else, and here I'd done it again, hurting my brother's feelings in the process. I pulled my brother Andrew aside and tried to explain myself. "I didn't mean to hurt him, but this is a serious decision. All of our money would be put together! Would we agree on anything?!" I took a walk down 34th Street and took a right on Dickerson. As I crested the hill I said to myself, "I really should marry [my wife now]."
*****
Wonder who would have led when we danced at the reception?
My family was gathered in the living room at 3374, and everyone was dressed up like it was Easter Sunday. This was an even grander occasion: I was about to marry my big brother, Jimmie. (And I don't mean that I would be performing the ceremony -- I mean that he and I would be the grooms.) Everyone was in a good mood, glad that I was finally settling down. I wasn't nearly as happy as they were; I was extremely nervous, and sweat was pouring down my face. At one point I apologized to the assembled crowd, and said that I had to remove my sportcoat. Finally, I decided that I just couldn't go through with it, and backed out. Everyone was pretty upset; I had called off an earlier wedding with someone else, and here I'd done it again, hurting my brother's feelings in the process. I pulled my brother Andrew aside and tried to explain myself. "I didn't mean to hurt him, but this is a serious decision. All of our money would be put together! Would we agree on anything?!" I took a walk down 34th Street and took a right on Dickerson. As I crested the hill I said to myself, "I really should marry [my wife now]."
*****
Wonder who would have led when we danced at the reception?
Bad Vacation / Christmas with Carl
Monday night
Dream 1: Bad Vacation
My wife and I were on a trip with her father and ex-husband Jim B. in tow, and we were having a pretty bad time. At one point the four of us were overlooking some historic balcony; her ex- was on the far left, my wife and I were in the middle, and her dad (played in this dream by actor Seymour Cassel) was on the right. Jim wasn't making any trouble, but her dad was being particularly bothersome, literally poking my wife in the side and pinching her. She and I huddled together, just trying to endure the situation.
Dream 2: Christmas with Carl
It was Christmastime again, and my friends Gordy and Barbara S. were visiting me in my bedroom at Mom and Dad's house. They were asking me about my relationship with Linda S. I told them that we weren't dating anymore; I still liked her and all, but it had been a long-distance thing (she lives in Maryland) and besides, now I was enjoying my freedom. There was a bag of presents in the room. One was from my friend Jim B.; I wasn't sure where the others came from, or who they were for -- they had no tags. Gordy looked around the room and noticed a one-piece denim outfit hanging from a clothes hanger. It had some red paint on the shirt portion, and was in a plastic bag, having just come from the cleaners. Gordy said, "What's that?" I said, "Oh, that's my Carl [Childers] costume. I got it in Africa." There was a gold plaque nearby on the wall that explained all about it. He was really into it and said, "Oh! COOL!" (The splattered red paint made it appear to be all the more authentic.)
*****
Dream 1: Bad Vacation
My father-in-law visited us recently. He can be a challenge, but I didn't see him pinch anyone this time. I'll be playing poker with Jim B. and other old friends in a couple of days.
Dream 2: Christmas with Carl
I did dress up as Carl Childers (Billy Bob Thornton's character from the movie "Sling Blade") one Halloween. I recall covering a ruler with tin foil and some red paint, to resemble the murder weapon mentioned in the title. Gordy is a big movie buff. He would appreciate such a costume. (I can't recall if he was at that particular Halloween party.)
I recently painted our backyard shed red and ended up with red paint on my blue jeans. That red paint on denim morphed into my "Carl" suit.
Linda is an old friend. The two of us went to a few concerts, but we never dated, as far as I know.
Dream 1: Bad Vacation
My wife and I were on a trip with her father and ex-husband Jim B. in tow, and we were having a pretty bad time. At one point the four of us were overlooking some historic balcony; her ex- was on the far left, my wife and I were in the middle, and her dad (played in this dream by actor Seymour Cassel) was on the right. Jim wasn't making any trouble, but her dad was being particularly bothersome, literally poking my wife in the side and pinching her. She and I huddled together, just trying to endure the situation.
Dream 2: Christmas with Carl
It was Christmastime again, and my friends Gordy and Barbara S. were visiting me in my bedroom at Mom and Dad's house. They were asking me about my relationship with Linda S. I told them that we weren't dating anymore; I still liked her and all, but it had been a long-distance thing (she lives in Maryland) and besides, now I was enjoying my freedom. There was a bag of presents in the room. One was from my friend Jim B.; I wasn't sure where the others came from, or who they were for -- they had no tags. Gordy looked around the room and noticed a one-piece denim outfit hanging from a clothes hanger. It had some red paint on the shirt portion, and was in a plastic bag, having just come from the cleaners. Gordy said, "What's that?" I said, "Oh, that's my Carl [Childers] costume. I got it in Africa." There was a gold plaque nearby on the wall that explained all about it. He was really into it and said, "Oh! COOL!" (The splattered red paint made it appear to be all the more authentic.)
*****
Dream 1: Bad Vacation
My father-in-law visited us recently. He can be a challenge, but I didn't see him pinch anyone this time. I'll be playing poker with Jim B. and other old friends in a couple of days.
Dream 2: Christmas with Carl
I did dress up as Carl Childers (Billy Bob Thornton's character from the movie "Sling Blade") one Halloween. I recall covering a ruler with tin foil and some red paint, to resemble the murder weapon mentioned in the title. Gordy is a big movie buff. He would appreciate such a costume. (I can't recall if he was at that particular Halloween party.)
I recently painted our backyard shed red and ended up with red paint on my blue jeans. That red paint on denim morphed into my "Carl" suit.
Linda is an old friend. The two of us went to a few concerts, but we never dated, as far as I know.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Lost Again / Scary Christmas
Sunday night
Dream 1: Lost Again
I was alone, driving a tiny car on a 65-mile stretch of highway in North Dakota. The sky was darkening, and appeared ominous; it had already rained. I stopped at an intersection, not knowing which way to turn. Several lanes of cars pulled up to the light with me -- I was to their right. Not wanting to fight my way through the traffic jam, I pulled off the road to the right in order to get my bearings, and narrowly missed plowing into a deep body of standing water.
Dream 2: Scary Christmas
It was Christmas day at Mom and Dad's and I didn't have presents for anyone, having spent all of my money on DVDs. I would have to go out and come up with some cash, probably by trying to sell some stuff. I opened the door to the living room closet and looked for a Santa hat, figuring that that would help to cheer me up and get me in the holiday spirit. While looking around for it, I found several Christmas stockings that had been made by my siser-in-law, Dawn. They had not yet been hung by the fireplace. Once I found my hat, I got into some golf cart-type of contraption and drove it out the front door and down the front steps, steering with a long metal bar, similar to the handle of a child's wagon. I got out to the street and was prepared to continue to the store when I noticed three young black guys messing around with my parents' car. The bad guys had left their car on the 34th Street side of the block; it was a fairly small old junker, with black paint on the back and sides, with a champagne colored hood and roof. The next thing I knew, they left my folks' car behind, and walked up to their front door; one of them had pulled a pistol out of his pocket. I hurriedly called 911, trying my best to memorize the number on their license plate. When the operator answered, I said, "I want to report a robbery in progress!" She replied, "You'll have to take that class." I said, "There's a robbery happening right now! Please tell me what number I should dial!"
At that point the morning alarm woke me up.
*****
Dream 2: Scary Christmas
I probably thought of Dawn because we were making plans to go visit her and our new nephew at Dawn's parents' home, north of Nashville.
The other night I was flipping the channels around and watched a few minutes of some cop show starring the insufferable David Caruso. It was set in Miami. Anyway, I remember him saying something along the lines of "As we know, eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable." That quote seems to have influenced my desire to memorize the tag number on the robbers' car. Anyway, that's a pretty tough spot. What do you do when your family is inside a house, and three guys are at the front door, one of them with a gun? Do you act like a hero and get shot? Maybe I should have tried to run them down in my golf cart.
By the way, that cart is probably based on my dad's motorized wheelchair.
Dream 1: Lost Again
I was alone, driving a tiny car on a 65-mile stretch of highway in North Dakota. The sky was darkening, and appeared ominous; it had already rained. I stopped at an intersection, not knowing which way to turn. Several lanes of cars pulled up to the light with me -- I was to their right. Not wanting to fight my way through the traffic jam, I pulled off the road to the right in order to get my bearings, and narrowly missed plowing into a deep body of standing water.
Dream 2: Scary Christmas
It was Christmas day at Mom and Dad's and I didn't have presents for anyone, having spent all of my money on DVDs. I would have to go out and come up with some cash, probably by trying to sell some stuff. I opened the door to the living room closet and looked for a Santa hat, figuring that that would help to cheer me up and get me in the holiday spirit. While looking around for it, I found several Christmas stockings that had been made by my siser-in-law, Dawn. They had not yet been hung by the fireplace. Once I found my hat, I got into some golf cart-type of contraption and drove it out the front door and down the front steps, steering with a long metal bar, similar to the handle of a child's wagon. I got out to the street and was prepared to continue to the store when I noticed three young black guys messing around with my parents' car. The bad guys had left their car on the 34th Street side of the block; it was a fairly small old junker, with black paint on the back and sides, with a champagne colored hood and roof. The next thing I knew, they left my folks' car behind, and walked up to their front door; one of them had pulled a pistol out of his pocket. I hurriedly called 911, trying my best to memorize the number on their license plate. When the operator answered, I said, "I want to report a robbery in progress!" She replied, "You'll have to take that class." I said, "There's a robbery happening right now! Please tell me what number I should dial!"
At that point the morning alarm woke me up.
*****
Dream 2: Scary Christmas
I probably thought of Dawn because we were making plans to go visit her and our new nephew at Dawn's parents' home, north of Nashville.
The other night I was flipping the channels around and watched a few minutes of some cop show starring the insufferable David Caruso. It was set in Miami. Anyway, I remember him saying something along the lines of "As we know, eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable." That quote seems to have influenced my desire to memorize the tag number on the robbers' car. Anyway, that's a pretty tough spot. What do you do when your family is inside a house, and three guys are at the front door, one of them with a gun? Do you act like a hero and get shot? Maybe I should have tried to run them down in my golf cart.
By the way, that cart is probably based on my dad's motorized wheelchair.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Rocky Mountain High
Friday night
I was visiting an amusement park in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado which featured the usual roller coasters and other delights. One "ride," or "challenge" intrigued me; I'd never seen anything like it at other parks. It resembled a fort (or maybe a guard tower) perched way up high on thin metal legs with some crossbeams to hold it steady. The structure itself seemed to be made of wood. It had an angled roof with shingles, but was open on all sides, so those on the inside could peer out over a metal railing. In the front of the "building" there was a very long and steep path which had to be climbed in order to gain entry; it extended from the fort to the ground. The center of the path was filled with large, treacherous boulders. The spaces on either side of the boulders seemed to be filled with swiftly running water; upon closer inspection I realized that the streams were an illusion. They were two swift-moving plastic strips, made to look like water. One false step, and the person trying to climb to the top would be whisked straight back down where he started. Only the most agile, careful climber would make it to the top.
Once I'd made it up into the fort, I sat up there with a few others, enjoying the view all around, and I was caught up in the excitement of the people who were trying to come aboard. Several of us helped one young kid as he practically tumbled over the railing and onto the floor, none the worse for wear. Then, to my surprise, I saw my dad; he'd climbed up the back way, scrambling up the metal girders. I said, "Get in here [before you hurt yourself]!"
Later, I was back on solid ground and having a walkabout when I ran into Edie and Scotty S. We chatted for a few moments, and Edie reminisced about how their stepdaughter Mandy once met me at a similar park when I lived in Pittsburgh.
*****
My dad was a great deal thinner in this dream than he is in real life. Once upon a time, he was known for resembling a bean pole. Unfortunately, his climbing days are long gone. This is a stunt he never would have undertaken, anyway; he suffers from a fear of heights.
Aside from the front walkway, this fort resembled several "structures" found at parks where I've played tag, including the one at my elementary school in Arlington, and one in a local Nashville park where my wife and I ran around with our nieces and nephews this past fall.
Edie and Scotty are mom and step-dad of my high school friend Brud H., who was mentioned in "That's My Bug!," posted this past March 28. Last week Brud's wife, Mandy, copied me on an e-mail that included some recent photos of their family.
I've never lived in Pittsburgh, or Pennsylvania, for that matter.
I was visiting an amusement park in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado which featured the usual roller coasters and other delights. One "ride," or "challenge" intrigued me; I'd never seen anything like it at other parks. It resembled a fort (or maybe a guard tower) perched way up high on thin metal legs with some crossbeams to hold it steady. The structure itself seemed to be made of wood. It had an angled roof with shingles, but was open on all sides, so those on the inside could peer out over a metal railing. In the front of the "building" there was a very long and steep path which had to be climbed in order to gain entry; it extended from the fort to the ground. The center of the path was filled with large, treacherous boulders. The spaces on either side of the boulders seemed to be filled with swiftly running water; upon closer inspection I realized that the streams were an illusion. They were two swift-moving plastic strips, made to look like water. One false step, and the person trying to climb to the top would be whisked straight back down where he started. Only the most agile, careful climber would make it to the top.
Once I'd made it up into the fort, I sat up there with a few others, enjoying the view all around, and I was caught up in the excitement of the people who were trying to come aboard. Several of us helped one young kid as he practically tumbled over the railing and onto the floor, none the worse for wear. Then, to my surprise, I saw my dad; he'd climbed up the back way, scrambling up the metal girders. I said, "Get in here [before you hurt yourself]!"
Later, I was back on solid ground and having a walkabout when I ran into Edie and Scotty S. We chatted for a few moments, and Edie reminisced about how their stepdaughter Mandy once met me at a similar park when I lived in Pittsburgh.
*****
My dad was a great deal thinner in this dream than he is in real life. Once upon a time, he was known for resembling a bean pole. Unfortunately, his climbing days are long gone. This is a stunt he never would have undertaken, anyway; he suffers from a fear of heights.
Aside from the front walkway, this fort resembled several "structures" found at parks where I've played tag, including the one at my elementary school in Arlington, and one in a local Nashville park where my wife and I ran around with our nieces and nephews this past fall.
Edie and Scotty are mom and step-dad of my high school friend Brud H., who was mentioned in "That's My Bug!," posted this past March 28. Last week Brud's wife, Mandy, copied me on an e-mail that included some recent photos of their family.
I've never lived in Pittsburgh, or Pennsylvania, for that matter.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Murphy's Law
Thursday night
Two friends were arriving from India, and would be staying with us for awhile. When they got here they surprised me by saying that they didn't have enough money to afford food. I said, "Don't worry -- while you're here, we'll pay for your meals."
I had a white collar job at a large company, but my bosses were making me do things that were not in my job description. One day they said, "We just got a truck in downstairs, and we want you to go help unload it." I said, "I've had a hernia. I don't want to get another one." I went down to the warehouse and repeated my story to the foreman. He said, "Then you can offload these crates of soda [in 64 oz. bottles]." These were large plastic pallets with holes in them, to hold about about 30 bottles each. I had to stack them in the corner, and they were teriffically heavy.
Later, my wife and I headed to the airport to take a trip, and she was the first to go through security. She was chosen for extra security screening while I waited to go next. She was saying something like, "They want to know why I don't have any keys. Have you got the key?" I said, "Hang on. I'm having trouble understanding you. Can you wait a minute [for me to get there]?" Apparently, she couldn't. The screeners let her pass, but she didn't wait for me; she grabbed her suitcases and walked off in a huff, around the corner and into the terminal.
A few days after that episode I had gone to an ATM machine and taken out $300 cash; I went to an electronics store to buy some DVDs. I'd made some selections, but then, for some reason, the store clerk and I were sitting in my car, out in front of the store. (I was behind the wheel, and he was sitting in the right front passenger seat. He was holding my wallet.) I asked the clerk to total up the cost of my purchase. One of the items in the pile was a computer game; I was shocked to find out that it cost $130, and was thinking about putting that one back. To my chagrin, when I wasn't looking, the clerk opened my wallet and found an old combination AmEx/Circuit City card. He said, "I haven't seen one of these in ages!" and before I could do anything, he ran it through his portable card reader. He'd rung up the entire sale before I could even protest. I stammered, "Why did you do that?! You knew I'd taken out $300 in cash!" (I was particularly stressed about it because my wife and I had been trying to pay the credit cards down, not run them up.) The cashier apologized and tried to void the sale as I circled around the parking lot, frowning.
*****
I probably dreamed about the two Indian guys because my wife was trying to talk me into seeing the new "Harold and Kumar" movie. I'd never seen the first one. Later I found out that only one of the characters (Kumar) is of Indian descent.
Someone at work asked me to lift something very heavy the other day, and I mentioned that I'd had a hernia, and didn't want to have another one. (Of course, I eneded up lifting the boxes onto a cart.)
My wife and I are working hard to pay off our credit cards, and it looks like we'll succeed by early summer.
I'm constantly rushed by everyone. In my heart of hearts I'm a slow-moving, contemplative person, forced to live in a world moving at break-neck speed. I can't stand it. No wonder I prefer to read about the past.
Two friends were arriving from India, and would be staying with us for awhile. When they got here they surprised me by saying that they didn't have enough money to afford food. I said, "Don't worry -- while you're here, we'll pay for your meals."
I had a white collar job at a large company, but my bosses were making me do things that were not in my job description. One day they said, "We just got a truck in downstairs, and we want you to go help unload it." I said, "I've had a hernia. I don't want to get another one." I went down to the warehouse and repeated my story to the foreman. He said, "Then you can offload these crates of soda [in 64 oz. bottles]." These were large plastic pallets with holes in them, to hold about about 30 bottles each. I had to stack them in the corner, and they were teriffically heavy.
Later, my wife and I headed to the airport to take a trip, and she was the first to go through security. She was chosen for extra security screening while I waited to go next. She was saying something like, "They want to know why I don't have any keys. Have you got the key?" I said, "Hang on. I'm having trouble understanding you. Can you wait a minute [for me to get there]?" Apparently, she couldn't. The screeners let her pass, but she didn't wait for me; she grabbed her suitcases and walked off in a huff, around the corner and into the terminal.
A few days after that episode I had gone to an ATM machine and taken out $300 cash; I went to an electronics store to buy some DVDs. I'd made some selections, but then, for some reason, the store clerk and I were sitting in my car, out in front of the store. (I was behind the wheel, and he was sitting in the right front passenger seat. He was holding my wallet.) I asked the clerk to total up the cost of my purchase. One of the items in the pile was a computer game; I was shocked to find out that it cost $130, and was thinking about putting that one back. To my chagrin, when I wasn't looking, the clerk opened my wallet and found an old combination AmEx/Circuit City card. He said, "I haven't seen one of these in ages!" and before I could do anything, he ran it through his portable card reader. He'd rung up the entire sale before I could even protest. I stammered, "Why did you do that?! You knew I'd taken out $300 in cash!" (I was particularly stressed about it because my wife and I had been trying to pay the credit cards down, not run them up.) The cashier apologized and tried to void the sale as I circled around the parking lot, frowning.
*****
I probably dreamed about the two Indian guys because my wife was trying to talk me into seeing the new "Harold and Kumar" movie. I'd never seen the first one. Later I found out that only one of the characters (Kumar) is of Indian descent.
Someone at work asked me to lift something very heavy the other day, and I mentioned that I'd had a hernia, and didn't want to have another one. (Of course, I eneded up lifting the boxes onto a cart.)
My wife and I are working hard to pay off our credit cards, and it looks like we'll succeed by early summer.
I'm constantly rushed by everyone. In my heart of hearts I'm a slow-moving, contemplative person, forced to live in a world moving at break-neck speed. I can't stand it. No wonder I prefer to read about the past.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
April 2008 Dream Roundup
Family & Friends
My little brother [Shown in "Swamp." He doesn't exist.]
My wife
Andrew C.
Dad C.
Ed B.
Gordon S.
Hilda W.
Jack P.
Jimmie C.
Mom C.
Steve W.
Teri W. [Dad asked me to buy her some pajamas in "PJs."]
Acquaintances & Coworkers
Bernie V. [I saw a picture of him in a photo album in "Old Days."]
Deuce W.
Jeff V.
Rod S.
Steve B.
Terri L.
Timmy M.
Celebrities
Al Neuharth [He was mentioned by Rod S. in "'holes."]
Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band [Their photos appeared on the sleeve of a special edition of the "Born to Run" album in "BTR."]
Doug Henning [I toured a studio where he filmed a TV program in "The Objector."]
George T. Morgan [He designed the Morgan Silver Dollar shown in "Come On Down!" It was minted from 1878 to 1904, and again in 1921.]
Humphrey Bogart
Jimi Hendrix
The Monkees [A man had built a replica of their car in "Monkee Mobile."]
Nick Lowe
Quentin Tarantino [He co-directed the film shown in "Revenge."]
Thomas Gainsborough [British artist, (1727 - 1789). His painting "The Blue Boy" (1770) was mentioned in "Boy, Blue."]
Tim Burton [He co-directed the film shown in "Revenge."]
My little brother [Shown in "Swamp." He doesn't exist.]
My wife
Andrew C.
Dad C.
Ed B.
Gordon S.
Hilda W.
Jack P.
Jimmie C.
Mom C.
Steve W.
Teri W. [Dad asked me to buy her some pajamas in "PJs."]
Acquaintances & Coworkers
Bernie V. [I saw a picture of him in a photo album in "Old Days."]
Deuce W.
Jeff V.
Rod S.
Steve B.
Terri L.
Timmy M.
Celebrities
Al Neuharth [He was mentioned by Rod S. in "'holes."]
Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band [Their photos appeared on the sleeve of a special edition of the "Born to Run" album in "BTR."]
Doug Henning [I toured a studio where he filmed a TV program in "The Objector."]
George T. Morgan [He designed the Morgan Silver Dollar shown in "Come On Down!" It was minted from 1878 to 1904, and again in 1921.]
Humphrey Bogart
Jimi Hendrix
The Monkees [A man had built a replica of their car in "Monkee Mobile."]
Nick Lowe
Quentin Tarantino [He co-directed the film shown in "Revenge."]
Thomas Gainsborough [British artist, (1727 - 1789). His painting "The Blue Boy" (1770) was mentioned in "Boy, Blue."]
Tim Burton [He co-directed the film shown in "Revenge."]
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