Car Dream

I usually dream of sports cars, especially Porsches. Last night, I dreamed I was standing on the side of a divided highway. Seemed like an Interstate. I never saw myself so I don’t know what dream version of me was being offered up.

I was waiting for a car, though. A white Chrysler was coming. I wasn’t familiar with this Chrysler — I’ve never owned one and I would’ve been five when this car was on the road though I’d naturally know them as used cars — but I knew the one coming, a sparkling white convertible from the early 1960s, with a large chrome grill and front reflecting the landscape as it came on, was the car I awaited.

That’s all the dream was, except when I saw it coming, I thought, at last. Looking it up today, here was the car of my dream.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

He encountered someone driving out of the in exit. Third day in a row this had happened. Not the same people or car, but…

They had to be given some latitude and space to let them finish driving out, annoying him, because it was his nature to get annoyed by others. He wondered how they’d managed to miss seeing the one way signs and arrows, along with the DO-NOT-ENTER sign. Surely, they hadn’t ‘missed’ them, but had decided to ignore them. Three drivers, three days in a row.

Such a small matter but it was the kind of thing that fed his growing disenchantment with society.

Winceday’s Wandering Thoughts

Things which are always reassuring to see when you’re walking along Ashlandia’s streets:

A FedEx truck running a stop sign with a blast of noise as you approach the corner. A pick up truck and SUV traveling in opposite directions, each driver with their cell plastered to their skull. Another driver wheeling it with one hand while shoving food into her gob as she comes up, braking hard and late as you stand in the crosswalk, waiting for her to notice. A large Acura MDX running a red light and aggressively coming around the corner, going around you as you walk through a cross walk.

Ah, yes, so very reassuring.

A Driving Dream

My wife, SIL, and I needed to take a trip. I procured a car for us, paying cash for it. It just happens that it looked just like the 1968 Camaro RS I owned in RL in 1975, complete with stripes and black vinyl top, a fun, reliable, and sporty car. In the dream, I didn’t know that it was like my Camaro of my youth because we were youths.

I don’t know why we were traveling by car, other than going from point A to B. Tucker, a current RL cat, was traveling with us. My SIL and I took turns driving, although I did most of it. At one point while I was driving, I suddenly couldn’t control the speed. I was telling them that in the car as I tried braking, kicking the accelerator, and then trying to take the car, an automatic, out of gear, attempting to put it into neutral. When I couldn’t move the center console shifter, I concluded, “I think we’ve lost the transmission.”

I managed to get the car stopped. We got out to talk and stretch our legs. My wife was inattentive and left the car door open. Tucker immediately leaped out. I caught him and then scolded her for leaving the door open and letting Tucker out. She dismissed me and what had happened, which irked me. We decided to go on. I thought for a moment that she was going to drive, which I didn’t want for some reason. I then drove again.

We arrived at a hotel and in a dream blink, we were checked in and up in our room. I think it was in Chicago. It was a large, lavish suite, which included a butler of sorts who was also pressing us to eat or drink, telling us each time, “It’s free.” I didn’t think it was free, but included in the room. At one point, we discussed going out to dinner. The butler started making suggestions about where to go. My SIL was reading about our room during the conversation and asked, “Do you know what floor we’re on?” As my wife replied, “No,” SIL said, “We’re on the 668th floor.”

I went over to the huge windows and looked out. Seeing how high we were, I gasped. “Wow. Why are we so high?”

Dream end.

A Car Dream

Despite a nightly barrage of dreams, it’s been a while since I shared one here.

Today’s offering began as my wife and I were driving on a highway. I was at the wheel. Looking ahead, I saw a car coming and knew an accident was about to happen. So, as it began, I turned to avoid it and announced, “Accident.” Cars collided and spun. I went around them and had managed to get us through. My wife told me, “Way to go. It’s a good thing you saw that.” Her tone told me how impressed she was.

Just then, a car came up, slewed around the other wreckage, and hit us in the rear. It wasn’t heavy, and the car didn’t seem greatly damaged, but we were on our way somewhere so I said, “Come on. We’re going to go get a new car.”

I went to a car lot. They sat me down in a room, purportedly to complete a survey. An attractive young woman was seated close to me. Almost immediately, she began flirting with me. I felt she was there to entice me into spending more money than I’d planned to buy more car than I wanted. So while I joked with her, I wasn’t letting her comments steer me. In the end, I told them my selection from what was offered. They glumly completed the transaction, and off I went.

After I left, I discovered I’d purchased a BMW. It was a small, sporty model. I picked up my wife, and she was pleased. Only after driving for a while did we realize that it was white, a color neither of us liked on a car. I chastised myself for not looking at the color before I bought it.

We went to a house, which turned out to be a modular home. I drove the car inside and down the halls. My wife came to the car window and told me we had to go but a RL friend arrived and asked for a ride. She was checking out the car, and complimented us on the purchase. In order for the other two to go, I needed to back the car down the halls and out the front door. I did that. Clouds were darkening the day. The friend commented, “I think rain is coming.”

I agreed with her. They entered the car. As I began driving, the sky turned black and a downpour struck. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. I drove down the highway into the rain.

Broken-down Cars Dream

Let’s begin in the middle. As the dream seemed to do.

My wife and I were out somewhere. Broken down. Limited view of the setting, like, not important, but seemed like thin scrub brush, black asphalt road, and dry. Vehicle was a black sports car. Could have been a Jaguar XK-E or a Mazda RX-7. Its identity fluttered and shifted, always black, a sleek sports car, but different makes each time I looked at it.

Another man, in a faded yellow short sleeve short and torn blue jeans, was there, trying to go somewhere else. Seemed homeless, with little going for him.

Also present was a young woman, also with a broken-down vehicle, a sixties era white Volkswagen Beetle.

We needed parts and tools to fix the cars. I could get mine running. Plans were formed and tried. We couldn’t get all four people into my car. Should someone be left behind? Maybe her Beetle could fit into my car.

The VW’s body was removed. They tried fitting it in. Sort of got it in there but the consensus rose, that’s not going to work. We had to get it back out but it was wedged in tight. I told them, “Stand back. I got this.” I reached into the car, picked it up, and pulled it out using leverage. “Impressive,” everyone said. The woman said, “You’re really strong.” My wife said, “He’s always been weirdly strong.”

I decided, “This is what we’ll do. Leave the VW here. Get in my car. Go to the nearest town. Get the tools and parts needed, fix my car, then I’ll return and fix the other.” I finished, telling the woman, “You’ll go back with me to your car.” Everyone accepted the plan. I got into my car’s driver seat. Wife got into the passenger side. The car had a hatch. The other two got in there. We left the hatch open and drive the twenty something miles to town.

First, we met a group of other people. They needed help, rides, money, etc., to get elsewhere. For some reason, they thought my wife and I were there to help them. That surprised us, but we agreed we would.

Next, we decided we needed clothes, shirts and pants, and entered a crowded discount store. I found an orange pullover with green trim. After putting it on, my wife came up in a new shirt. “I went with a sports team on my shirt,” she said. “Looks like you went with something else.”

The others needing help were white haired, elderly, thin or thick, men and women. They followed me around. After raising the hood and fiddling, I announced that I’d fixed my car. Now the woman and I would go get her Volkswagen. The woman said that she would sell it after it was fixed and buy a larger vehicle. She and I got into my car and zipped away. Seconds later in dream time, I was back in town when she drove her VW in.

Dream end.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Deceptive-son is here. Ashlandia’s valley is deep with muted sunshine. But on my step out to test it all, winter still holds the ruler’s scepter as cold air keeps temperatures in the low thirties. Birds were plentiful and noisy, urging something that we non-birds didn’t understand. The floofs embraced sunlit spaces and conducted their post-breakfast washup. As J. Denver sang, “Sunshine on my kitties makes me happy.”

It’s Wednesday, April 5, 2023. Beer with friends is in the schedule for this afternoon. Weather spies passed a note that rain is on the way and the high will be 55 F. That’s a twenty-degree step up from now.

Democracy was vigorous in New York yesterday as former POTUS Trump showed up to be arrested. People turned up to protest him and support him, and to challenge ideas and positions. You can say it was an embarrassment for the country or a celebration of the nation’s first amendment.

A series about fast cars ruled the dream sequence. I drove red, silver, and blue cars, Ferraris, Porsches, Mercedes, among others, traveling to different places. Arriving at one place, I’d admired the view and then resume my travels. Sometimes I’d see a different car and know it as mine. Other times, I’d be told it’s mine and given keys. My wife was generally with me. Nothing eventful or untoward happened. I was just driving and enjoying myself.

With cars still revving in my head when I awoke, The Neurons were busy pulling out songs about cars. The one which ended up ruling the morning mental music stream is a ballad, “Drive”, by The Cars, 1984. If you know the song, it’s not about a car, but abut driving. The song embraces rhetorical questions, beginning, “Who’s gonna tell you when it’s too late? Who’s gonna tell you things aren’t so great?”

Enough of this typing. The day awaits. Stay pos and be strong. Here’s The Cars. And, look, coffee, and a slice of iced lemon cake. Ah, good morning.

Cheers

Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

Her car needed its gas tank filled. They devised a plan. Run errands — mail bills, drop off the utilities payment, pick up some needed items at the grocery store, drop off her top to return it — the color wasn’t at all like the blue depicted in the photo online — and get gas for her car.

Going by order of direction, the gas station was first. He pulled in and headed for the pump.

“No, go to the other pumps, the filler cap is on this side,” she said from the passenger seat.

“No,” he retorted, glancing at the gage. “Look at the arrow. It’s this side.”

“No, it’s on this side,” she answered. “They won’t do it on the other side. It has to be on the same side as the pump.”

“Which is this side.”

Silence fell as she looked at the gage. He clapped his hands and burst out laughing, then she said, “Oh my God, we brought the car,” and threw herself back with laughter.

Of course, it was so funny to them, she had to call friends and share.

The Roger Moore Dream

I was given a DVD. “Review this. It’s your life.”

I don’t know who spoke to me. I took the disc and put it in a player and sat in a chair, feet on ottoman, remote in my hand. Surprise number one: I looked like a young Roger Moore.

Watching the video of a young child doing things outside in bright sunshine, I felt doubt. This isn’t my life, is it? Doubts increased when a blonde white woman in a red dress showed up. That’s not me. She was driving a red Lamborghini Urraco. Dream me drove a gray Urraco. She couldn’t be me, could she? My doubts began diminishing as a watched her driving around, walking around, attending classes, talking to people, all snippets, all while she wore various red dresses.

Another woman, Campbell, came on screen. Also white, brunette, she drove a white Urraco. White cars are not my preference, so it couldn’t be me, but she weirdly resembled me — she could be Roger Moore’s sister. Like the other, I witnessed her doing various activies always dressed in white but not always a dress. All of it was weirdly familiar, as if another person had been plugged into my life. These were dream memories, not RL memories.

Then I appeared in a dark gray Lamborghini Urraco, the car dream me drove. Okay, that is me, I was confident. But how could all of these be me when two are female? It has to be more about us than the cars. But the memories being shown were familiar. While I watched, I thought, the car represents my body. Why different colors, then? To present different aspects of myself? Sounded feasible but needed more research.

Stopping the video, I moved over to my desk and laptop, and searched for colors in dreams. A man came to the office door and said, “You need to finish the review. We have good things planned for you but you need to know yourself before we can go forward.”

I replied, “That sounds very new age-y.”

The man was short, white, black hat, black suit. “Finish your review. Get on it.”

I felt impelled to do as he said and rose, moving around the desk to continue.

Dream end.

Sunday’s Theme Music

It’s a beautiful December morning outside the window. Snow graces the ground and plants. Clouds promise more clouds. 32 F out there but a comfy 68 in here, thanks to the heating industry. All that would be great, but this is March 26, 2023, and we’re beginning another week of spring. Someone pass the message on to the weather deities, please.

Although the Mt. Ashland ski resort is pleased, the rest of us are more perplexed than happy. Snow was not in our end of March plans. Leading the list of the dissatisfied are the cats. The in/out game is in play each morning and afternoon. Fortunately, yesterday, after the morning’s snow, sunshine bulled through the cloud cover, delivered us from the snow, and shared some shine, pushing temps to the mid-forties. The weather conductors tell us the same will be the case today. Despite the wintry scene, we will have over twelve hours of daylight, and that’s a good thing.

Today, I have “Metal Guru” by T. Rex from 1972 bubbling in the morning mental music stream. I first heard it on some late-night music show on AM radio while driving my 1965 Mercury Comet home from my girlfriend’s house. The car was a hand-me-down from the period’s stepmother, a forest-green sedan with a solid 289 V8. My girlfriend lived out in the country on twenty-some acres with no neighbors within shouting range. I lived back in a small town, Daniels, 10 miles away, about twenty minutes by the Comet late at night. I found the lyrics and its nuances mesmerizing and picked them up, singing to my girlfriend. She didn’t know what the hell I was going on about but she was used to that. I was considered a bit out there. Despite that, she married me, and we’re still together, a half century later.

I haven’t thought of this song in years. Nor have I heard it. The Neurons dusted it off after the cats and I were talking about their breakfast preferences. For some reason, The Neurons thought this intersection of action and conversation should be noted with the lyrics, “Metal guru, is it you?” Except I was singing, “Little kitty cat, is it you?” Then the rest flowed in and I realized, oh, yeah. T. Rex.

Ah, sunshine is exploding in through the eastern windows. Looks like spring is returning. Winter is melting away…again. Stay positive. Hope you have a lovely day underway whatever you’re doing out your way. I’ve just kickstarted my heart with some coffee. Breakfast awaits. Here’s the tune.

Cheers

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑