Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Dream fade in. I’m a young adult. I’m with a real-life friend who passed away a few years ago. He’s charging me to take care of his care for him. “Drive it over to the condo and put it in the parking garage,” he tells me.
The car is a silver 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk in pristine condition. I agree to do as he asks. He and I are on vacation together, along with our extended families. I drive the Studebaker over and park it in the garage. I can see it from the rented, shared condo. The condo is enormous. The living room/dining room/kitchen combo’s entire western side is open to the sun and surf. Yes, surf, because it’s located right above a long, flat beach. Wonderful sunshine and blue sky are visible outside.
The condo is busy with people coming and going, talking, making plans. All of the people are familiar t me. Many are real life friends and relatives.
I’m part of the conversations and activities about our plans. But I’m also distracted, concerned about the Studebaker. Word comes to me that it needs to be moved to let some big truck by. I don’t want to go over there to move it. But somehow I have a black, wireless remote control. Using it, I start the car, back it up, let the truck by, and then park the car again. I end up doing this same maneuver three more times. In parallel, I discover that the remote works on other cars as well. I keep moving cars for people using the remote.
Then we’re all dashing around, doing things, collecting groceries, making meals, eating. As that happens, I discover that all of the Studebaker’s windows are shattered. The car is also riddle with dents and scratches. Non-plussed, I wonder aloud, what the hell happened? I’m concerned about what my friend will say about his car’s condition.
While I’m still fretting, we all go outside to enjoy the sunny beach and ocean. It’s wonderful out there. Then, shallow, long waves enter. News reaches us that there’s a storm far offshore driving these waves. Sunshine glitters along the waves. We talk about what a powerful storm that must be.
I return to the condo for something. When I’m in there, I hear shouting from outside. Turning, I see a long, flat, white wave race up the beach. It’s not deep or thunderous but it was wholly unexpected by everyone. Watching, I see that no one is hurt. Fast moving, the water only reaches most people’s knees.
Although the condo is above the beach, the wave rushes into the condo. It carries me, upright, the condo’s length. I laugh, enjoying the experience. Looking across at the parking garage, I realize that it’s gone, along with all of the cars which were parked in it. I’m amazed but relieved; I can’t be blamed for my friend’s car damage now.
The water swirls around inside the condo. I wish for a towel. Then I realize, damn, I left it on the condo floor. It’s underwater now.
I think, I should have picked up a towel when I saw the wave coming.
Dream end.
A note: the man who passed away shared my first name, Michael. The car in the dream was made the year that I was born, 1956. Coincidence? Who knows?
Thirstda, April 10, 2025, cracked opened a new package of spring in Ashlandia. Filled with fresh air, new blooms and blossoms, dark and heavy green grass, and bright sunshine highlighting lazy clouds, it’s a day full of promise. 54 F now, that sunshine makes it feel like 67 F. 72 F is being shaken as an offering. Attached to the end of the weather promise is a warning that it’s gonna cool down tomorrow by more than ten degrees.
Newsweek is brimming with a tale of Donald Trump’s tanking approval numbers. Over on a rightwing site, they’re psyched about Trump having the highest approval rating among the last four presidents at this point in their term. Are we united yet?
News stories are rich about several matters on Trump. They’re still talking about him floating the idea of bombing our friend, neighbor, and ally, Mexico. After Trump said that he wouldn’t back down, he put tariffs on pause for 90 days for most countries, with a few exceptions for certain industries and imports. China’s heavy levies remain. In a surprise move that surprised only those half asleep under rocks, the House GOP passed Trump’s budget. Oh, but there was talk of such a rebellion going on there! Such dramatic stances were kind of made by these spineless caricatures of principled GOTP politicians. Several made it clear that they thought it was the wrong move but they voted for it anyway.
Primers regarding ‘how we got here’ are circulating. Not with Trump per se but our manufacturing issues in the United States. Many point out that goods are still produced in the U.S.A. These are often made in automated factories with few employees. History lessons are presented as reminders that it was that right-wing darling, Ronald Reagan, who championed changes in laws that allow the massive stock buybacks that are now the standard operating procedure for U.S. corporations. They point out that it was the right-wing business hero, Jack Welch of GE and “30Rock” fame, who led the charge to outsource and offshore. Hoping to keep up, and seein’ how GE financially thrived for a while, the same course was charted for many U.S. corporations. China and underdeveloped nations hungry for opportunity eagerly offered their land and people as new manufacturing bases. Now Trump blames those countries for what we as a nation did. Classic Trumpism: cluelessly blame others.
Today’s theme music is a matter of a haunting. Someone posted a comment about Joe Jackson and his song, “Is She Really Going Out with Him?” The Neurons trapped it in my morning mental music stream. I need to share it to exorcise it from my head. Not a bad song at all but speaking personally, having the same song playing over and over in my mind starts increasing my whacko factor. My whacko factor, or WF, is already naturally high.
I’ve chilled with some coffee and played with the cat. He enjoys some hide and seek and chase in the morning. Hope your day gives you all you need and more. Here we go.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 