In this dream, I was with others, all men, people that I knew in the dream, but no one from my current life. We were in a yellow two story building. No other details about the building, people, or our purpose surfaced.
In some sort of power position, but not in charge, I was listening to a man describe what he was doing to set up a warning system. It amounted to, he had set up someone to be a look-out; that look-out would notify another, who would then light a warning beacon. It seemed to be weather related.
I asked, “You have established an alternative for him in case he’s not available, haven’t you?” I was pretty insistent about it. The man wouldn’t answer me. I knew that he didn’t have alternatives identified but didn’t want to admit it. I felt it as a severe shortcoming and gave the guy in charge a look of admonishment, because he needed to do something about this.
Next, I was told about arrangements that’d been made. We were accommodating two other men. They wanted to get together but there wasn’t anywhere private for them. The downstairs porch had been closed in, I was informed, so they could meet down there.
I went down to check it out. The two men, a black, and a white blond guy, both in short-sleeved shirts, were slow-dancing. I apologized for interrupting and told them that I was checking on the arrangements for them to ensure they were good.
They stopped their slow dancing (there wasn’t any music, btw) and separated. It seemed like they were embarrassed. Meanwhile, checking the facilities, I discovered it was colder than expected; a light layer of snow covered parts of the floor. Seeing snow flurries drifting in, I followed them until I found the source, a rectangular hole in the cement ceiling. That needed to be fixed, I decided, and resolved that it would be done.
Others came in. I was talking with one man, a tall Asian wearing glasses. We were having a disagreement. I don’t know what it was about, but I was telling him to do one thing and he was refusing.
He hit me, so I punched him. He began walking away. I grabbed him. He hit me again. Angered, I took a sawed-off two by four and slammed it into his face.
I hit him harder than I’d planned and was shocked at what I’d done. Immediately contrite, I apologized again and again. He looked shock but said nothing.
The dream ended.
I can only imagine the shit so many people face daily. I’m sorely aware of my privilege. I have it pretty fucking good. Don’t need to work, having put my time and life into two moderately successful careers while experiencing good luck and little tragedy.
Others aren’t having it so well. They’re struggling to pay for food and shelter. Many times, they work several jobs; work defines their lives and aspirations. They’re being forced to work for little pay under conditions that the rest of us shun. Yet, we depend on them while looking the other way and pretending all is good.
As data about COVID-19 is gathered and analyzed, and corporations, governments, and faux patriots demand that businesses re-open, that we ‘return to normal’, people must decide, should I stay or should I go? That makes the Clash’s 1981 classic the official theme music for this May Monday during the 2020 coronavirus pandemic.