Thursday’s Bumper Sticker

Seen on a pickup truck in town.

Pickup truck is an interesting expression. Why is it used? According to Wikipedia.org, it’s of unknown origins, but was used by Studebaker in 1913, although it was hyphenated as two words then.

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The Family & Dogs Dreams

After dreaming about games, weather, and being back in the military, my dreamscape rotated to family and dogs. None of the people in these two dreams, except my wife, are anyone from my life.

In the first dream, I was a white man in a black family. I was an adult and I’m not sure how I came to be part of that family. I liked them but felt a little awkward with them. Mom, a smiling, confident, attractive woman, kept reassuring me that I was part of the family. The others agreed, but with less enthusiasm. I was always there when we ate and watched television, but was normally sitting off by myself.

Then Mom announced we were buying a new car. Cars were my thing so I was enthusiastic. That pleased Mom. She let me led the car-shopping expedition. We ended up buying a blue BMW M4 Cabrio. Mom made the choice, and it surprised me. It’s not a family-oriented car. I asked her with astonishment, “Are you sure?” Mom, always relaxed and in-control, said, “Yes, Michael, and you can drive it.”

My next dream found my wife and I taking care of dogs for several people during a holiday. Quite chaotic, I ended up driving another guy’s car. The car belong to my friend, Dominic. I was also taking care of his dog, Drew. Drew was a big, goofy, not-very-bright white canine who was always loping off to do something. There were several other dogs, but the were always where they were supposed to be, and not getting into trouble.

Lots of things were going on. It was a holiday weekend. We had guests and a big dinner party, the weather was unpredictable, and the dogs kept running off. All but Drew would return. I’d always need to look for Drew.

The big meal ended and we were cleaning up. I had a huge, clear bowl. It’d been used for spaghetti with sauce. Now it was a mess. I kept scrubbing it, per my style, to get it clean. I finally was almost finished

I was baffled about where my car was. Drew disappeared again, and I had to find him. I was exasperated because nobody else was helping.

The dream paused. I said, “Okay, everyone is accounted for except Quinn.” Quinn is my real-existence cat who passed away last November. “I haven’t seen Quinn in a while.” I worried about him being okay. Then I remembered that he’d passed away.

I couldn’t find Drew. One of our guests said that she thought Drew was at his home. I decided to go out to confirm that. As I went to leave, I saw that my wife was cleaning up the house after the dinner, but she was using the big, clear spaghetti bowl that I’d clean as a trash can. That upset me. I told her that I’d cleaned it. She brushed off my concerns.

I drove Dominic’s car out to his place to check to see if Drew was there. I felt bad about using his car, which was a 1960s muscle car, but it was too vague to remember exactly what it was. The car used a lot of gas, and I was worried about using all of his gas. His place was a mixed-used community with a train station, supermarket, fitness center, and townhouses. I went to Dominic’s townhouse.

The townhouse was large and luxurious, with a number of sprawling staircases. The family was home. They’d just gotten back. So was Drew, except he ran off when I went in. There were several other dogs. I decided to walk them while looking for Drew. One dog was very intelligent. I said, “Do you want to go for a walk?” The dog immediately went to the door. I said, “Let’s use the other door.” He turned, went up the steps to the other door.

We left through that door to take a walk and find Drew, but we ended up in the fitness center. The fitness center had a lounge where fit, attractive people were watching the news on television. Through glass walls, I could see into the fitness center where rows of people were exercising.

Finding another way out, I took the dogs for a walk. When I went outside, I found Drew cavorting around the lawns. He’d gotten dirty, of course. Seeing Dominic, I greeted him and chatted. I wasn’t sure if Drew had been at our house during the weekend and was trying to clarify how Drew was at his home. Dominic waved off my questions and concerns, telling me, “Drew is fine. Drew is Drew.”

I walked the dogs across a park and remembered that I had Dominic’s car and had forgotten to tell him.

After walking the dogs, I came across Dominic’s family. They were under the building, in  a plaza, relaxing on a blanket and looking out on the scenery. The plaza was open on all four sides. Mammoth pillars held up the train station and the buildings. From where they were, the trains could be watched as they arrived and departed. Past that was a rolling green countryside

I said, “You know, this isn’t actually a bad place. It’s got everything you need right here.”

Dominic’s wife said, “You know, we were just talking about it, and thought that this is the perfect place for people like you.”

I said, “Who are people like me?”

That’s where the dream ended.

A Doozy of A Dream

I found myself once again in the military, a fact that made me sigh when I awoke. Come on, man. How many times will I return to the military in my dreams?

In my thirties, I was attending a special camp, for elite people. My friend, LR, a colonel, was the commander. We were all wearing our standard Air Force office blues, dark blue pants with a light blue shirt.

I was happy to be there, in the dream. The facilities were a large field surrounded by woods, all of which surrounded a modern complex. I was driving the silver Audi 100 that we had when we lived in Germany. After parking it, I went into the complex.

LR greeted me with a handshake when I entered a building. We chatted a bit, and then there was an agenda briefing, which was essentially that we had guests coming, there would be a dinner, and we were all to make a good impression. Afterwards, we were released to get ready.

Going back out to the Audi to get a few things, I ran into LR. I’d parked the Audi head-in. He told me that they preferred to have the cars backed in, and asked if I could do that for him. Of course, I could.

First, I needed to use a toilet. I discovered I had mild diarrhea. Oh, boy, just what was needed. I returned to the Audi to re-park it and get more items, but forgot to move the car because I needed to use the toilet again. I ran into LR. He reminded me that I said I’d back my car into the space. I told him that I’d forgotten. Then I said, “Stupid of me.” I was irritated that I hadn’t re-parked.

LR said, “No, no, it’s just a small thing. You forgot, that’s all.”

I found a ditch set up with holes in a bench to use as a latrine. After doing my business, I went back to move the car, but I had to use the toilet again. This time, I couldn’t get to a restroom, and crapped my pants. Horrified, I decided that the only thing I could do was take my clothes off, clean myself off, and put on fresh clothes.

Taking my clothes off, I found another ditch set up as a latrine. Someone had put a plastic bag over the hole, though, not to block it, but hanging down, as if to catch it. It puzzled me. But naked, with feces smeared on part of my backside, I decided that I didn’t have time to do anything but use the hole as it was set up.

As I settled into that, the first visitors, a group of ten women, arrived. The gate they were to use was right beside the latrine I was using, but the gate was locked, and they couldn’t enter. Humiliated, I explained that I was naked and having some bowel issues, and I couldn’t unlock the gate. They were sympathetic. More women arrived. I was mortified but also couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

By then, sixteen women had arrived. The gate still wasn’t open, so some of them sat beside me in the latrine. None of them looked at me, though. At last, the gate was opened. They left.

The dream shifted. By now, I was cleaned up and in a fresh uniform. I was still in good spirits despite what’d happened. I ran into the first group of ten women inside the facilities, where we were queuing for drinks and dinner. They asked me how I was, etc., and then, as a joke, pointed out the restrooms, in case I needed them. I had a good laugh with them about that.

The dream ended.

***

Typing this one out was beneficial. When I finished, I realized that I was worrying over nothing. I was back in the military, of course, because that’s where I’d felt most comfortable. There was order, structure, and accountability in the military. Everything seemed clear and straightforward.

Fascinating how the mind can work.

 

Dudefloof

Dudefloof (floofinition) – a housepet who prefers male company.

In use: “In a house with three young girls and two female adults, the dog turned out to be a dudefloof, even though one of the girls had rescued him. Wherever her husband went, the spaniel followed.”

The Road-Show Dream

My wife and I were traveling in a car. I had a sense that we were changing locations, moving to somewhere new, an exciting prospect.

Along the way, we stopped in a town. It was pre-arranged for us to meet with a local musical band. My wife and I were to sing with them that evening. We sat with the musicians and coordinated the set list and discussed when we would arrive and what else was required for our performance. Part of the latter entailed doing more work, including find the song lyrics to several songs.

After that, we had time to kill, so we first went around the town a bit, just being tourists, and then got something to eat. Our big black and white cat, Tucker, was traveling with us, except that he was a furry, fist-sized black and white spider in the dream. He was in a cage but got out. The car door was open. I saw him leaving the car, but I wasn’t positive. Either way, I searched for him, but didn’t find him, and ran out of time.

Our appointment for meeting the group to prepare to perform had arrived. We met with the group at the convention center where we were to perform. Meeting with the band, I stepped back and let others lead. After a few minutes, it seemed to me that they were off track. Everything that’d been discussed was changed. I reminded them of our earlier conversation but they were confused, and seemed unable to remember anything that I said.

That’s where the dream ended.

Saturday’s Theme Music

I was on the road today. Naturally, that opened my music stream to road songs. One of them that popped up early is by Canned Heat. AM Radio and the growing pop revolution introduced them to me in my early teens. I didn’t appreciate how much the blues inspired them until about six years later, when I was listening to ZZ Top and the Allman Brothers Band.

Besides Canned Heat, I was singing “Hit the Road, Jack,” “Truckin'”, “Little Red Corvette”, “American Pie”, “Little GTO”, “Beep Beep”, “Uneasy Rider”, “The Way”, “Sweet Hitchhiker”, “Life Is A Highway”, “One Headlight”, “Drive My Car”, “Mustang Sally”, “Little Deuce Coupe”, “Pink Cadillac”, “The Leader of the Pack”, “Dead Man’s Curve”, “On the Road Again”, “Where the Streets Have No Name”, “Route 66”, “Born to Be Wild”, “Ninety-nine Miles From LA”, “Midnight Rider”, “Fast Car”, “Runnin’ Down A Dream”, and “Radar Love”. You can place the performers to the songs.

You have any favorite road songs that I should have been streaming? I’d like to know them. Sharing is caring, friends.

Here’s Canned Heat with “On the Road Again” from 1968.

 

Manifested

Done for the day, he packed up and walked toward the front door. Seeing Gwen, he veered toward her. Looking up, she said, “Hi, how’re ya?”

“Good.” He stopped at Gwen’s table. “You?”

“The sun’s mostly shining, it’s mostly warm, so I’m good.”

“How’s your car search?”

“Great.” She looked tired around her mouth and her eyes but Gwen grinned. “I was driving down Phoenix Avenue yesterday afternoon. I was thinking of a gold Toyota Camry, and when I stopped at the red light, I looked to the left, and there was a gold Camry for sale in an empty lot on the corner.”

“Wow.”

“I turned and went in there. The owner had just parked it. He’d literally just put it up for sale and was going to go home and post it to eBay. He wanted two thousand. He’s a mechanic and always took care of the car and had all the receipts, and he’d redone the interior.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then, when I was talking to him, he said he was asking two thousand but he liked me so he’d let it go to me for fourteen hundred.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m so pleased that I manifested that for myself. I had a need and I manifested it. And it has a name. He calls the car Goldie.” She showed him a picture of a clean but older gold Camry.

“Good for you, I’m happy for you,” he said. “Congratulations.” As she smiled at him, he said, “I have to go now.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Congratulations again.”

“Thanks.”

“See you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He walked out into the sunlight and paused to think about the conversation, smiling as he realized that Journey’s song, “Don’t Stop Believin'”, had been playing in the background during their conversation.

Inhaling, he looked up at the sun. It was a beautiful day, a little chilly but boldly sunny. Spreading his wings, he rose into the sky and disappeared.

A Topsy-Turvy Dream

Last night’s dream dragged me through a gamut of feelings — uplifting, frustrating, enervating, and energizing. It was just like writing a novel.

Here’s a little set-up. This dream was apparently a sequel, or part of a series. In a previous dream, I’d driven an exotic high-performance sports car. I had a great time with it, but while cutting through traffic, I lightly clipped another car. I need it in the dream, but I was having too much fun to care. I thought, who cares? It’s a dream. Enjoy it.

My dream last night began with me with my wife in our home. I received a document in the mail. Opening it, I found a letter from my previous employer, IBM. It was signed by like sixteen people, including a senior VP. The letter had a photograph of me in the car in the previous dream. A video played when I pressed on it, showing the moment when I clipped the other car and drove away. It had a clear image of my dismissive grin. The letter said, “Is this you? Please call.” A phone number was provided.

Shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit. My wife was going to be pissed. I figured that I’d damaged something that belonged to IBM, they found out, and know they wanted me to pay. It’d probably be a substantial amount, and that’s what I thought would piss my wife off.

So I didn’t want her to know. Concealing the letter from her, I called the number. A cold female voice on the other end confirmed who I was, that it was me in the photo (or video), and told me the senior VP wanted to talk to me. An appointment was set.

I went in like I was being sentenced to death. IBM HQ was huge and busy. I stumbled around, lost, until I managed to get to where I needed to be. After I identified myself, the woman behind the desk left and came back with a man. Here it comes, I thought.

He confirmed who I was and that it was me in the vehicle, and then said, “We want to give you a job. The elan you demonstrated in this vehicle was just what we’re looking for. My boss will be out to talk to you about your pay, benefits, and the project, and then we’ll see if we can make a deal.”

Hot damn, I was so surprised and excited. I couldn’t believe it. What good luck. I was looking forward to telling my wife.

But a few minutes later, the woman came out and said, “Sorry, there’s been a change of plans. We’ve decided we don’t want to hire you. Have a nice day.”

Talk about flipping me over. I tried to talk her into another chance but she dismissed me and walked off.

Hurt, angry, and bitter, I left. Instead of walking, I took a train to my car. The train was packed, and I seemed to be in everyone’s way, which was like an anchor on my soul. Arriving at my stop, I left the train and trudged up the steps from the platform into the parking building. Thick burgundy carpeting covered the steps. I was the only one going up them. As I reached the top steps, I discovered a heavy burgundy overcoat. It was obviously expensive. Picking it up, I thought, I need to turn this in or find its owner.

I stepped into the upper level. Burgundy carpeting covered the wide, broad room. A group of men hustled toward me. They were talking about a basketball game. One of them, a short, bald man, seemed to be senior, as they obviously deferred to him. All were carrying briefcases, but he was dressed in a three-piece burgundy suit.

Stopping him, I said, “Excuse me, is this your coat?”

Surprised, he said, “Yes, it is. Where’d you get it? I’ve been looking for it.”

“I found it on the stairs,” I said.

“My goodness, well, thank you for finding it for me. I really appreciate it.”

He reminded me of the proctologist in the Seinfeld Ass Man episode, officially called “Fusilli Jerry”. “You’re welcome,” I said.

He then went to put the coat on, but his hands were full with bags. I said, “Here, let me help you.”

As I helped put him put his coat on, he laughed and said, “Well, thank you. You’re a fine young man.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. He and I turned to go in our separate directions. As we did, one of the other men called to him. Hearing the name, I realized that it was the senior VP that I was supposed to meet, who never met me.

Turning around, I watched him walk away, and felt better, because I thought we were going to meet again.

The dream ended.

What Dreams

Two dreams gained press in my morning reflections.

The first dream placed me in an old white house. My deceased mother-in-law was there, puttering around in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand, as she did in her healthier years.

Looking outside the kitchen windows, I saw fast-moving brown water had taken over the creek. As I did made coffee and looked at books, I kept an eye on the creek. The waters were rising.

It wasn’t raining but I put together that it’d heavily rained after several days of snow, and we were seeing melting run-off. I told the others about it. Nobody seemed to understand what I was talking about (a common issue in my dreams). The water was then actually three inches above the window’s bottom edge, but it only flowed past on one side. Looking out, I confirmed it was flying above the banks but staying to the banks’ formation.

I told the others, “It’s going to flood. We need to leave.” My mother-in-law said, “No, I think I’ll stay here.”

I thought it was a bad decision but it was her choice. I donned my hat, put my laptop into my backpack, and swung my pack into place. Going to a big white door to leave, I encountered a small white dog looking up at me. With a spurt of blood, its head popped off. I was horrified and struggling what had happened. The dog’s head turned and looked at me from its spot on the wooden floor, and then the head and body re-attached. Tongue lolling, the dog stood, looked at me, and wagged its tail.

“What’s going on here?” I said. “Water overflowing its bank, but continuing to flow as if it’s in its banks, a dog loses its head for no reason, and then it re-attaches? What the hell?”

Nobody paid any attention to my comments. The dream ended.

***

The next dream found me waiting for friends in a parking lot by some docks. I was excited, because we were doing something special that day, going on some sort of ride.

They walked up, my friend and his girlfriend. He was having second thoughts, which disappointed her. He asked me, “How ’bout you? Are you ready to go?” “Yes,” I said without hesitation.

We encountered four other friends. They were going in another car. Grabbing some gear, we got into my friends’ little silver car and took off. It was a quick ride. My friend voiced his uncertainties about what we were going to do, and the girlfriend turned to me and said, “He’s been like this for the last few days.”

I sympathized with both but said nothing.

We arrived and parked, and unloaded our gear. Then we approached the entrance. There was a line and we’d need to wait. They gave us a number. It’d be called when it was our turn.

We went out and sat on a grassy area by a sidewalk. One employee asked us if we wanted to play a game. The game involved us using a small bat, about eighteen inches long, to hit a ball about the size of a golf ball. The ball’s landing place established what you got, from out to home run, with every kind of hit in between, along with things like force outs and put out. Sure, we agreed.

My friend tried first and ended up with a little dribbler that ended as an out. Taking my turn, I hit a single. By the rules, you keep going until you’re out, so I kept going, hitting several more singles, getting better with each until I hit a home run. Everyone was impressed.

I surrendered my turn so that others could play. They were all quickly out, and it was my turn again. I continued hitting doubles, triples, and home runs. The employee said, “You’re better at this than anyone that I’ve ever seen.”

It was time for us to go on our adventure. I opened on of my bags to get my helmet out. I immediately spotted a Royal Stewart band. Pulling it out,  I confirmed that the crash helmet I had had belonged to Sir Jackie Stewart, a retired three-time Formula 1 world champion. I’d been a huge Jackie Stewart fan in my teens, so having the helmet delighted me.

My friend and his girlfriend discovered that they’d forgotten their helmets. As they bemoaned that, I said, “Don’t worry, I have extra helmets.” Opening bags, I found racing helmets. As I wondered why I had so many helmets, I thought that they belonged to retired racing drivers and was going to pull them out to look, but had to pass them on to my friends.

The dream ended.

 

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