We finished puzzle number nine yesterday afternoon. It was the most entertaining puzzle. The artist, David Bradley, incorporated fascinating details and used sharp, vivid colors. There were many people in it, and it engaged me and my wife to find a piece and ask, “Okay, where’s this hair go,” “Who is missing an ear with a diamond earring,” “Who has a hand with red fingernails?” Each person was given a nickname for easy reference.
His references were interesting, too. Is that Whistler’s Mother in the background? So many of these people presented seem like stereotypes, I can imagine their their background, involvement, and conversations. And love the takes on Laurel and Hardy, Mona Lisa, and American Gothic, and the greenback on the floor. So entertaining.
Next up: the red Corvette.
Today’s music was released in 1966. I was ten years old. Neighborhood kids had this song (and about ten zillion others) on a forty-five. We gathered in their basement in Wilkinsburg, PA, and had dance parties, with the records being played on a little portable record-player.
“Kicks” by Paul Revere and the Raiders, was about drug use, getting sucked into that world, and how it can happen without warning. That’s true about so many things; changes occur under our noses. Our bodies shift. Bad habits led to poor under-lying conditions but we’re oblivious to them until a medical emergency erupts. Same thing can happen to romantic and sexual relationships, friendships, finances, houses, and cars. Those little, sneaking changes are noticed but not noted until they combine into one big fucking change that explodes in your face.
Anyway, “Kicks” came into my musical stream this morning as I was reflecting on last night dreams. There’s one line in the song that says, “You’ll never run away from you, and if you keep on running, you’ll have to pay the price.”
Yeah, you can’t run away from you. It’s a distance too far.
My wife was buying a house. The street address numbers were either 124 or 214. She was also buying it for either $124,000 or $214,000. She kept it as a secret from me, and it was supposed to be an investment.
I’m not certain how I learned what she was doing, but the dream was taking place on the night she was closing the deal. She was buying the home in her original home state, but we were at home, and her sister, B, was visiting.
Other guests were present, including a young airman who’d serve with me at different locations, R, and a young officer, J. They were all at my house, which was a large condo located downtown. R and I were walking around talking. We were reminiscing about racing. I was particularly remembering that R had worried a few years before that he was going to be exposed because he’d been racing in one league. The other league didn’t know about it, and he was worried about their reaction.
At one point, I was on a large, well-furnished landing. R and I were talking. J joined us, drawn by the conversation. It switched to houses. I commented that this was the only place that I owned. J said, “Well…”
I asked and he confirmed if he was talking about my wife’s secret deal. I told him I’d overheard people talking about it, and I wasn’t worried; she was doing it as an investment. I was confused about the address being either 124 or 214 Maxwell, and then realized that the price was also those numbers.
J had been staying with us in a guest suite off that landing. I talked about how it’s a nice suite, but it’s in an odd location, out of the way, so you’re often forgotten, but you often overhear things being said on the landing because people forget you’re there.
Many sirens were going on outside. R and I went out to the street and stood on the sidewalk, trying to learn what was going on. It was night, and it had been raining. The sellers were starting to arrive. I knew them, didn’t like them, and wanted to avoid them. I thought this was probably one reason that my wife was keeping her purchase a secret.
R, J, and I returned to inside. It was now later. R was saying good-bye, and J was saying good-night. My sister-in-law, B, was talking about saying good-night, and then we talked about movies and music as my wife joined us. I had to unwrap my feet. They were in bandages. As I did that, the others left.
I turned on a movie. It was a huge screen, but I worried about the sound because the guest room where my sister-in-law, so I turned the sound down. I was watching an old favorite movie, but I don’t know the title. As I began watching, I resumed unwrapping my feet and inspected them. My feet looked fine.
The dream ended.