Day: July 21, 2017

Lost Identity Dream

Well, that dream was something, starting with the carnival, and finishing with a “Wizard of Oz” ending.

To enlarge, I was at a carnival, and it was day. Several women were present, but nobody I knew. I was working in a roughshod office; I don’t know my job, position or task. Three women – maybe they’re my muses – were distracting me, and then making enticing offers about what would happen if I go with them. One, a tall brunette, was dressed in a sky blue dress, and danced as she moved toward the exit.

I was interested, and more than willing to follow. But, I discovered I was missing items. First, I was missing my car keys. Then, I was missing my green Tilly hat, and finally, I was missing my wallet with my identification and credit cards.

That last shocked me. As the women said good-bye and left, I started a furious, intense search of the carnival grounds. I knew it was a carnival, but it was little more than a few tents and booths set up over sloping, grassy ground. Others were present; one man told me to go to another section. There, I would find a little woman. I should report my loss to her.

I did so, and she provided me with a gold credit card to use until I recovered. It was in a clear plastic sleeve with money and other items to help me. I thanked her, but I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted my wallet, keys, and hat. I wanted my identity, damn it. Yet, I was aware, the clock was running; if I didn’t soon find my lost credit cards and identity, someone else could use them and rip me off. I became concerned about how to explain it to my wife.

I kept searching, and stumbled across my Tilly hat on a patch of grass. Relieved, I picked it up. Underneath it were my wallet and keys. I was overjoyed by the finds. Locating a computer, I checked my accounts, and confirmed that nothing had been charged. Apparently, I decided, I’d just misplaced it all. I was relieved.

Then, though, I acknowledged I had this new, unused credit card in its plastic sleeve, along with the money I was given to assuage my troubles. I tried giving them back, but that option was rejected. I could keep it, I thought, to have something private available for emergencies, but I couldn’t reconcile to myself why I would need something private.

It was still day, as though the sun hadn’t moved. The dream ended with me putting on my Tilly hat and walking away, keys, and wallet in hand, undecided about what to do, but realizing that I’d had all my identity all along.

I’d been worried about nothing.

1

Beginning Again

Cut those strings, he told himself. Release the ballast. Unfurl your sails. Anchors aweigh.

He wasn’t certain about that last expression. “Anchors aweigh.” Sounded like he should be readying a scale. He was pretty sure that’s how the song went, “Anchors aweigh, my boys, anchors aweigh.” He owned a computer, and could easily look it all up, but he thought it a dated reference, anyhow.

Searching for something more appropriate for the digital age, he came up with “Just Do It.” Unfortunately, he couldn’t use that; the slash folks have trademarked it, and zealously guard their carefully cultivated expression.

Sliding back into the rocket age, he counted down, “Three, two, one…we have liftoff.” But those words failed to lift him, and he became a little depressed, because Major Tom entered his head. The Air Force song came up, “Off we go, into the wild blue yonder,” but yonder construed a vague distance and direction.

“Where are we going?”

“Over yonder.”

“There?”

“Yes, yonder. There.”

Umm.

“Once more into the breach, lads,” he thought, but it would not do. Various people and rock performers sang about being back in the saddle again. Where was his creativity today?

What the hell. He needed an ending so he could start. “Lit ’em up,” he said, wincing. Time to reboot, he decided, pressing start, but it was such a dejecting way to begin. “On the road again,” he hummed.

Curse Willy Nelson.

1

Today’s Theme Music

I awoke with Tom Jones singing “What’s New Pussycat?” in my head.

I don’t know how Tom got in there; I thought he was a bigger person that that. There are multiple unguarded entries into my head, of course. He may have slipped in through an ear opening, my nostrils, or my mouth. My mouth tasted like Tom Jones might have walked through there during the night, when I awoke.

Shrugging off the song, I instead began streaming the Foo Fighters’ “Best of You” from sometime in the first decade of this bold, new century. According to what my memory tells me about an interview I read with Dave Grohl back sometime in the shadow of the song’s release, it was written about breaking away from things that confine you, or something like that. I might be thinking of another song, or making this up completely.

Several lines in the song attract me. Like, “Were you born to resist, or be abused?” I’ve pondered the ways in which our systems abuse us, and how we take it with a tautological shrug, because that’s the way things are.

Later, he sings in a calmer moment, “I’ve got another confession my friend, I’m no fool.
I’m getting tired of starting again, somewhere new.”

That’s really I feel this lethargic summer Friday. I’m getting tired of starting again.

 

0

Raison d’floof

Raison d’floof (Catfinition): The cat or cats who provide you with reasons to get up in the morning. It’s usually to be fed, or you hear them hacking up a furball, or they’re not beside you, where they usually are, or they’re making noises in the other room, so you have to get up, and go see what’s going on. Whatever the reason, this raison d’floof helps you get up and get things done.

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑