The Command Complex Dream

I arrived at a command complex. Although ultra futuristic in appearance, full of technology, it was no longer used. I wasn’t associated with it or the military but was familiar with it because of my past, and found it a friendly space. There were no windows and only one door, standard for such places, which were like vaults. Dark blue dominated, with matching carpet and walls. The console positions were all flat black glass with touch screens. As I went about exploring, others entered. I realized that they, like me, were past military. None of us were in the service any longer. We all chatted and introduced ourselves.

We realized some event was taking place. Console positions were powering up on their own, displaying incoming threat analysis. Despite this, we were all in high-spirits. Many people sat at console positions, taking the problem on. As I examined the consoles, I noticed that lines of red and yellow lights circled the positions and were growing brighter. Somehow, I recognized this as a trap. Warning the others, I told them to back off the consoles because something was about to happen. After they all drew back a few feet, the positions opened and emitted spurts of gas. If they’d been where they were, they would have been affected, so my warning saved them. All were grateful.

Things wound down. I got on my hands and knees, checking something out. As I was, I looked up to see a tall, white man enter. I knew he was retired four-star general. He paused as he reached me. I realized I was impeding his way and discovered my legs and feet were somehow under the carpet. As I apologized and laughed, wondering how I’d managed that, he brushed it off as inconsequential and went past. I stood and joined him. We chatted about trivialities and the shook hands and he left.

Others had come in again. One was a black female. I joined her at a table but then was called over by two other women. They were over at a display and had discovered a curtain. It had SLIDELL sewn on in in yellow thread. They asked if that was me. I said that it could be because one, sometimes people used that as a variation of my name, and two, such a misspelling sometimes showed up on correspondence. But, I said, I thought it was doubtful because we were at Bitburg AB in Hahn, Germany, and I’d only been there twice.

I returned to the table in the back and chatted with the seated black woman, sitting beside her as I did. I knew her and we exchanged information about what had been going on in our lives since we’d last seen one another. Others then came in and sat down opposite her. I realized after a moment that people were arriving to pay her homage. I thought it inappropriate to be sitting with her because that was a position of honor and she was the one being honored, but she told me to stay beside her. I did as person after person arrived to tell her how great it had been working with her.

Dream fade out.


Floofcial (floofinition) – 1. Involving or relating to animal activities in which people spend time talking to animals, doing enjoyable things with animals, or sponsoring events which benefit animals.

In use: “A cat floofcial was happening in the backyard, with the three resident cats in their customary places being visited by three neighbor cats sitting on the fences, stopping by to say hello and chew the kibble, so to speak.”

2. Experience of an animal cleaning a human face with its tongue.

“Whenever she got home, her dog had to conduct a thorough floofcial, as if he was cleansing her of the outside world.”

Monday’s Theme Music

Hello, TPs. TP is net for Terra peeps, people of Earth. Catch up.

The pendulum has swung again, that never pausing pendulum that marks the weeks, bringing a new week on us. Today is Monday, November 15, 2021. Foggy and drizzly here in Ashland. Marks like four straight days of fog. Ashland likes holding onto one look. They promised us 68 F yesterday. Ha, ha, ha. Oh, those weather gods. We were never anywhere near that. Whiffed on spotting any sunshine. I suspect the same today. 53 F now. They speak in television tones of 63. I am doubtful. Maybe 56, 57. Sunshine dribbled through the fog at 7:01 AM. We anticipating it dribbling back out at 4:49 PM.

The music part of my morning mental music stream is occupied by “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star (1994). When I mention this song or Mazzy Star, I generally receive blank looks in response. Maybe it was the stations which I listened to, but it was regularly played when I cruised the SF Bay Area in the mid nineties. I also hear the song on television shows and in movies once in a while. Anyway, the song is with me today because, dreams. The song wasn’t in the dreams per se, but when I reflected on them, the song arose.

You live your life, you go in shadows
You'll come apart and you'll go black

H/t to

While I didn’t go black or come apart in the dream, the situation did, although I handled it in good humor. It was more about the ending, I guess, which faded like steam rising into the air as I drifted awake. Also, the nature of the dream provoked remembering some places and people as I reconstructed the dream’s layers. Sadly, David Roback, one of the forces behind this song and Mazzy Star, died last year, cancer, just 61 years old.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and booster when you can. Now I’m getting some coffee because I can. And I’ma gonna drink it, because I can, and be thankful about it, because I can. Cheers

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