Tailtalk (Catfinition): The way cats communicate with humans via a flexible appendage on their rear.
In Use: Jade was a tailtalk queen, easily and especially demonstrating her displeasure via her tail. This made her an easy mark. When she was asleep, we would draw close and whisper her name. She would respond with a few brief tail tip flicks – “I hear you.”
Increasing our volume, her tail responded with more movement. So it was repeated until we said, “Jade,” and her tail wildly beat, demanding, “WHAT?”
She always had the last word in this. Waiting until we were soundly asleep, and then leaping from the dresser to the bed at three in the morning.
Her tail was up with happiness during that time.
I awoke with, “Hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me,” streaming through my head. It’s a mellow classic, innit? Yeah, and much too mellow for me that morning. I’ve not really been a mellow music man. I prefer something harder, with screaming vocals, slashing guitars, and a hailstorm of drumming.
Ah, what better than “Highway Star,” by Deep Purple, from the “Made In Japan” live album. It’s not soulful, but elemental, and probably in the top five on my fave list of live rock albums, due to the sentimentality of who I was when I first heard it. I had it on eight track, and wore that mutha out. It became first, comical, and then, irritating, as the eight track slowly lost its fidelity and developed lots of warble, wow and flutter. It was, like, woof. Eventually, I quit listening to it, but once CDs came out over a decade later, I hunted down a remastered copy.
Listening to it, I’m back in high school, with the lights off and the music up, riding a sonic wave.
I dreamed I was a teenager. It was bright and sunny outside, and I was inside a well-lit building. I learned that my high school football team was short of players. Coach Thomas came to me and asked if I’d play. I’d quit the team the year before, after an accident.
Pleased, I quickly agreed. He gave me some instructions. A game was starting soon. I needed to get there fast. “Don’t let me down,” he said, in a joking but serious style.
I raced to prepare. People were giving me things. It took longer than expected to get ready. A player – a real-life buddy from high school – came in. “Coach Thomas sent me in to see what’s going on. You need to get out there.”
I looked out a window. From there, I could see and hear things happening. Part of that was Coach Thomas talking to the ref, who was warning Thomas, “You need to field a team.” Coach Thomas was irritated and impatient as he asked for more time, insisting, “He’s coming, he’s coming. I need him.”
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” I told the player. He left.
I don’t know what I needed to get. It seemed like that’s an extension of confusion I felt in the dream. Finally, I was out there, with the team, and in the line-up, nervous and uncertain. I had a piece of paper with instructions in my hand. The ref made me give that up. A player beside me, Daryl, told me he’d help me know what to do. A whistle blew as I jumped offsides. I wasn’t pleased with how it was going. I lined up again in a different position. The game commenced without any significant highlights, except players would suggest things to me. I’d do those things, and my confidence grew.
That’s how the dream entailed. I took three lessons from it.
- Don’t sweat the mistakes. You’re going to make them but you can overcome them.
- You have more to learn.
- Others will help.
A very positive dream to remember.