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.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
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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