Category: cars

A Dream of Five Things

It was an interesting, wide-ranging dream with several friends and family members. It also included the remains of a Roman city…in California; an overdue water bill for $53 dollars; returning rental cars; and picking out seats for an airline trip.

GT, an old friend I was stationed with in another country, was visiting me. I lived in Half Moon Bay, California, as I did for several years at the century’s beginning. GT was telling me about his experience in the town. He’d felt creepy and strange, like someone was watching him.

Yes, I explained to him. That’s because Half Moon Bay is built on Roman city ruins. Everyone feels the same effect. It affects some more than others.

“Really?” GT asked.

“Yes. It’s not felt as much on the main streets but it intensifies as you go down the narrower and smaller side streets. The further you are from a well-traveled road, the stronger it becomes.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the energy, spirits, and souls of the people who lived there before us. They still live there.”

I went on to tell him all about it. I then described how other common friends had visited me and experienced the same impact. There’d been articles about it. Everyone who lived there experienced it. I had, yes.

It was time for me to go. A group of us got into our five rental cars and drove to the airport to turn them in. My car was last in line. I had one passenger; I was giving them a ride. It was night, but when we were waiting in line to return the cars, we turned off the cars’ lights and engines. We were stopped on a hill. The car was facing up it. Sitting in the dark, I worried that other cars were going to come up around that last corner and hitting us. I kept checking the mirrors. For some reason, all the cars were to be backed up. I don’t recall this being communicated, but I released the brakes, put the car in neutral, and let it roll backward. As it picked up speed, my passenger began panicking. I decided I needed to turn on the car and lights, doing that as we stopped.

Inside the terminal now, I moved forward to turn in the rental car. I approached a counter where a man informed me that I had an overdue water bill. Some back and forth followed. I learned the bill was $53 and over thirty days overdue. I wanted to pay it then and there but he wouldn’t let me. Because it was overdue, it had to be paid elsewhere, which turned out to be a counter across from his.

My wife joined me. I told her about the overdue water bill. I was upset; paying those bills were her responsibility. She surprised me by shrugging it off. She knew it was overdue. She’d not forgotten to pay it, but decided not to for her own reasons.

I boarded a wide, modern jet aircraft. Five of us, all friends, were present. Five seats, all different — some were brown leather but others were cloth — were in a half circle. One friend, a VP and former co-worker, was trying different seats, grinning as he explained that he wanted one which reclined and swiveled. I already knew what each seat did. As soon as I could, I took the seat that I wanted in the front and center. My friend was disappointed because he was still trying the seats but I ignored him. I had as much right to the seat as him, and it was the one I wanted.

The end.

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A Dream Variety

A wide selection of remembered dreams fill me this morning. Two acquired prominent positions so I’ll relate them.

The first was about a foot race. Younger, I was gathered along with about twenty other young men. I’d hazard that we were in our late teens/early twenties. We’d just run qualifying races that were one lap (don’t know the distance). Now we were to run the real race of five laps. For some reason, a staggered start was employed. Basically, I was required to wait for my name to be called, then put on my shoes and start running.

Young women of about the same age were in bleachers to watch and cheer us on. Hearing my name, I slammed on black running shoes and took off. I ran hard without breathing hard or breaking a sweat, passing competitors with impressive ease. Finishing, I was surprised, thinking, “Already? That was it?” Thinking that I’d won, or at least finished in the top three – hard to say because the staggered stop meant that we were being judged on time, not track position — I sought the results but couldn’t find anyone willing to give official results.

The next dream found me visiting the parents of childhood friends. I was a young adult; they were of the age they were when I knew them. I snuck into their brick two story house because I’d heard they had a boat in their basement, and I wanted to see their boat. Getting down there, I discovered, yes, they’d constructed a large sail boat in their basement. Admiring its white and blue hull, I circled the boat, astonished by their accomplishment, and perplexed about why they’d build a boat in their basement.

I realized I needed to get home. It was already late evening. The sun had set and I had several miles to go. I didn’t want to walk in the dark. Going upstairs, I found friends from my current life. I asked if I could get a ride with them. One answered, “Yeah, I have my car. You can ride with us.” His car, I knew, was a dark green 1970 Ford LTD. “But you need to wait,” he told me. “It’ll just be a little longer, then we’ll be done.” They were playing with Excel spreadsheets. I began playing with them, too, but didn’t know what I was looking at, and became bored. That’s when the dream ended.

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Wind Beats Tree

Tree beats car. Had some heavy winds Sunday night/Monday morning. Neighbors a hundred feet down the road experienced the results. No one hurt.

The wind’s snarling awoke me during the night. Then it seemed to quiet before developing into a weird, undulating whine just before daybreak. Listening to this, I thought, that sounds like someone using a power saw. Turned out, it was.

This was down at the bed and breakfast occupying the corner of Siskiyou and Clay Street. Both of the damaged cars park on Clay, across the street from each other. I live up Clay, for perspective.

Photos were taken in the late afternoon when I went walking. We first saw the damages that morning when we left to deliver for Food & Friends.

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Another Randy Dream

Naw, this isn’t a sexually randy dream. This is about my late buddy, Randy. He was with me in a dream last night.

Starting out, though, I was at work, a busy, productive, well-lit office. Things were humming. I was tasked with creating a model of a business park for a client. I ordered the model. It was delivered to me in as twenty blocks. Each block was a four inch square. Set them up on the table in order (they were numbered on their bottoms) and there is your model. The client, a blonde woman, accepted them without comment and departed.

A while later, my boss, John H, (who was my boss in RL when I was a product manager with Tyco) (that’s another story), came to me and asked me to provide the client with a model again, but this time, could I put it on something for them? Okay, of course. I guess the client wasn’t pleased, I thought.

I went to a friendly co-worker for help. He brought out a scale model of the Eiffel Tower that he was building. The model, made of scaled down struts, was six inches tall and exquisitely detailed. Lit in a golden light, it was in a small plastic cube. I gathered that he was going to remove that gorgeous model, his project, from the cube, to give me for my client’s model. Before he could begin that, I hastily clarified that this wasn’t big enough and that I didn’t want him to take apart his model for my sake.

I then had an idea of what to use, made some calls, or had that arranged. The model would be ready in the morning and I’d deliver it to the client. Meanwhile, I needed to go down the road to another location. Randy came in. That’s where he was going. Did I want to ride with him?

Sounded good, right? We hoped into his the little white Chevy econo-box that he used to drive and took off. Part way there, Randy announced that he just had to make a quick stop someplace. We stopped at a huge factory in the middle of a city. Factory and city had both declined in use and condition. He and I went in. Dressed in a business suit but with the shirt open and no tie, and no shoes, I just followed him. Finding someone working there, he made inquiries about another person who used to work there, then followed instructions to go to another station. I followed along behind him, watching where I stepped because I was barefoot. Randy then learned where he needed to go; it was outside of the factory. I’d gathered by his questions that he was looking for an old female friend…maybe an ex-wife or a sister…

He told me that it would be just a little longer. We left the factory and started through the city. “It’s just a couple blocks,” he said. I stopped and said, “Randy, I’m barefoot. How ’bout if I just stay here and wait for you? I’ll be at the car when you get back.”

That sounded good and became the plan. Randy strode off. I loitered, walking around, killing time. A shift of truck drivers came on. Suddenly, I was in everyone’s way as trucks were jockeyed around and loaded. I decided that the best thing to do was to leave the factory and wait outside.

Randy had been gone a while. I wandered in the direction that I’d seen him go. I ended up with others at a crosswalk. A glass door kept us from going until it was our time. When the light changed, the doors opened and we all started out.

The road funneled toward a short white bridge spanning a deep chasm. The bridge had two spans, one for each direction of two-lane highway. On the other side was a grassy hill with a road going up it.

Young Latino boys were playing some game that I didn’t recognize. Their device, which looked like a long black tube sock, tied and weighted, flew out of their playing field, landing not far from me. I realized they would need to cross all the traffic and the bridge to retrieve it, so I picked it up to throw back. After a moment of examination about the best way to handle it, and leery of throwing it short — because then it might go into one of the chasms — I hurled it back. It cleared everything with no problem. The boys thanked me and resumed their game.

I decided that it’d be best to go back and wait for Randy at his car. As I approached the car, I saw Randy standing there, waiting for me.

The dream ended.

1

Another Dream

I didn’t know what to call this dream. It popped about. The dream starts with my wife joining me in bed. Naked and in our twenties, we play grab-ass, laughing as we do. For some reason, it’s sunny.

Then… We’re at a play with audience participation. Don’t know what the play is about. I’m up by the stage. The audience, including me, are laying down. The light is low, with focus on the stage via yellow spotlights. During intermission, it’s announced that prizes are available. The prizes are up by me. I begin exploring them. One is of a pair of model racing cars: a Chaparral 2E and a Mclaren M8F. The Chaparral always raced as a white car while the McLarens were orange. In this model, though, the Chaparral body parts are painted orange.

Not all pieces are painted, I observe. The cars are models to be constructed, and small, maybe 1/86 scale, yet, there’s amazing detail. Some pieces are in chrome, and others are in brass. There are fittings for water and oil lines, suspension pieces, engine covers and headers, brakes, modular wheels… It’s mind-blowing the amount of details in these tiny models given away. The announcer is saying that these are for children but I say, “These aren’t for children. I’d never give these to children. The pieces are too small.” I look at the box, confirming that it states for children five and up. That has me shaking my head. It’d be a challenge for me to assemble.

We leave the theater, and are out on a sunny plaza. Many people are returning to work but I don’t need to. Because I was laying down at the theater, I have a pale yellow sheet around my waist. A red-headed young white woman is flirting with me. She’s talking about some safety procedures that I previously established for work, and how they’re still in use. They call them “the Seidels,” she informs me, which she implies is funny, but also implies that I should be honored because they’re still using the documents I create and call them by my last name.

She invites me to sit at a table with her. Drinks are ordered. Making chuckling noises, she’s reaching under the table. As the chuckling stops and the smile leaves her face, she finally looks under the table. I look, too. Her hand is up under my sheet. She asks with some indignation what I’m wearing. I realize that she was trying to get into my pants. I laugh. She huffs away.

There it is, all that I remember, although there’s a sneaking sense that I have some gaps.

3

A Blue and Orange Dress Dream

To begin, it’s the late 1960s on a hot, dry day. I’m younger than now but not appropriate for that era vis-à-vis my life. After watching some Formula 1 practice action, a dust-up between two cars at one corner stops practice. Strapped into my car, I’d been waiting to go out. Leaving my car, I returned to the garage area to get out of the sun and get a drink.

The two drivers involved with the accident, Sir Stirling Moss and Sir Graham Hill, come in. They’re trying to figure out what happened, so they’re going to talk it over. I suggest some coffee. Coffee was served to them in small glass cups. They finished it quickly. I told them that maybe we should sit down. They agreed to that and move to a table to one side. I asked and they agreed, they could use more coffee. I brought the pot over to serve them. Both glasses were sitting on a shelf above the table. I didn’t know which cup belonged to which driver. They tell me that it doesn’t matter. I poured the coffee into the cups. The coffee is light with milk as it came out of the pot.

Next, Tina Fey is walking around inside hallways which were in my body. As far as I know, I’m the only other present, but she’s acting like her 30 Rock character. My first reaction is, wow, Tina Fey is here. Second: she’s in my body. Third: there are hallways in my body. Fourth: Tina Fey is in my body making jokes about my organs. Consumed by those four thoughts, I understood nothing that she actually said.

A dreamshift takes place. I’m outside of a motel/lodge, in the parking lot, by the raised cement sidewalk. The motel is modeled after modernized log cabins. A candy stand dominates the sidewalk. Tiered rows of candy offerings face me. I’m amazed by the selection. Every candy I think of — Jujubes, Good n’ Plentys, Mars and Mounds bars, Dots, Old Henrys, York Peppermint Patties, are all there in neat rows. But they’re expanding, adding another section, to add more candy.

I’m amazed that so much candy is for sale and amazed that they’re preparing to offer yet more. There is nothing but candy. Shouting children begin running up to the stand. SMH, I enter the lodge.

Adult motel workers and customers are inside. I know several because I’ve been staying there on a writing retreat for a few days. Now, though, I’m supposed to go meet my wife at another hotel. I’m to take a pale blue dress with pale orange trim to my wife. It’s way too big for her, probably five times her width, but a perfect length if she’s six feet tall (but she’s just five four), but she requested it. So I’m carrying this dress around for her.

Discarded candy and candy packages litter the lodge’s deep brown carpeting. I’m incredulous. Laughing and screaming children — no doubt charged by sugar, I think — are running about. I change (don’t know where that was done) into new light gray shorts. They have a bright blue string. I speak with my wife on the telephone and tell her that I’m on my way. Then, first, where’s the dress? It was on a hanger. I set it down and now I don’t see it.

Then I need to urinate. I find a bathroom. Weirdly, it’s at a juncture where one side is a hallway to rooms and the other faces the foyer/waiting area. The two walls are sliding accordion doors which need pulled to and locked. I attempt to do this but each keep sliding open, though I slam them. I then discover there’s a screw lock at the top of the accordion doors; I firmly screw that in place and start to do my business. I see that the screw is turning, becoming undone. Irritated, I screw it tight again. Sure that it’s secure, I step up to the urinal to pee and discover my shorts are in the urinal. They’re getting wet. Exasperation growing, I pull my shorts back. One accordion door has slid open. My shorts are pulled half down, so I’m effectively mooning people. A manager and customer come by to tell me. I answer back with explanations about the doors and how unimpressed I am by these doors. They’re chuckling. The male customer keeps joking, “Your bulls are showing,” by which I realize he means my ass. I joke back that I’m running with the bulls. Yeah, lame.

Although my shorts are wet, I’ve managed to pee and I’m ready to go again. Someone has found the blue and orange dress that I’m taking to my wife and call out, “Does anyone claim this?” I do, I answer, then explain that I’m taking it to my wife at her request. It’s way too big for her, I explain — I think it’s bigger than it was before — but she requested it.

That’s where it all ends.

5

FUV

FUV (floofinition) – Floof Utility Vehicle: car, truck, van or other conveyance purchased, acquired, modified, or employed specifically to fit animals’ needs.

In use: “While the Subaru’s front half was set up for driver and passengers in a conventional manner, the rear was all FUV, with a caged-area fitted with a dog bed, water and food bowls, and a rechargeable system that independently heated and cooled the area.”

1

The Shooting/Driving Dream

Back in a sports car for this dream. In this case, the car was a white C5 Corvette convertible.

The top was retracted on the car. I began by getting ready to leave. Some folks were watching me from a viewing stand. Examining how I was to leave, I decided that I would drive my white Corvette down a short chute and up the other side. With enough speed and traction, I should be able to scale the wall on the side, reach the white carpet on top and drive away. After explaining this to others, I deemed this a risky but do-able shortcut. I then did it as a practice run, to prove it could be done.

Satisfied, I stood aside to wait for the time to leave. Enveloped by a sunny day, blessed with blue sky, I was dressed in a white sweater and white pants. Out of the car, I stood around with my arms crossed. The chute, wall, and viewing stand were also white of various degrees from white sand to egg shell and pure white. While I was waiting, confident and smiling, enjoying a refreshing breeze, others approached me. They’d witnessed my shooting, they told me, and were impressed, confirming that I’d shot eleven bullets into eleven pre-existing holes without damaging the holes or missing. This was an earlier competition that I’d won. After accepting their compliments, the time to leave arrived. I drove my car as I’d done before, but didn’t quite reach the white carpet on top. Lacking traction, the car fell back, not like a car would, though, but more like a person, ‘catching’ itself as it fell. It suffered no damage; neither did I.

A man on the viewing stand said with a sniff, “I knew he wouldn’t do it. It just demonstrates that he’s a braggart.” As they turned to leave, I returned in my car, drove down the chute, and completed the departure as planned. None were there to witness it, but I still felt vindicated.

0

A Jag Dream

Back into cars for last night’s dream. This car didn’t belong to me, but to a late uncle. He never owned a car like this, to my knowledge.

The car was a silver 1967 Jaguar E-type roadster. Calling it silver, I want to stipulate that it was so bright and polished, it seemed almost chromium. Absolutely stunning.

I was agog over it in the dream, where I was a young man in my late teens. He’d given me the honor of cleaning it and I did a damn thorough job. Afterwards, I proudly showed him what I’d done, opening the doors, bonnet, and trunk to display my results. He was duly impressed. After I returned his keys to him, he returned them to me. Turning away, he tossed a walk off: “Why don’t you take it for a drive.” Delighted and incredulous, I replied, “Are you serious?”

“Sure,” he answered. “You earned it.”

(I couldn’t find a photo of a silver Jag roadster, and none could be as silver as the one in my dream. Sorry, but this will need to suffice to show what kind of car it was.)

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Airport & Parking Dream

Airports are another frequent feature in my dreams. I was in one again last night.

It was a lengthy dream. First, there was going to the airport. I was with my wife at that point and we just walked into the airport. Modern and friendly, the airport was as busy and hectic as a children’s playground. I met with a friend who sold us tickets. Business was slow, so he was also fishing and selling his catch. We laughed about that. Most interesting was that his fishing lines rose into the sky like he was controlling kites. We didn’t think anything of it.

After buying the tickets, I had time and busied myself shopping, eating, and walking around, classic time killing, airport style. While doing this, I saw a wonderful orb spider web. It was perfect. Just as I was about to comment on it, a woman ahead of me turned to it. Dressed in a red dress with red shoes and hat, this thin blonde woman walked into the spider web. As she did, I told her, “You’re walking into a spider web.”

She freaked when the web came across her face, and fell backwards. I was expecting that and easily caught her shoulders and kept her upright. While she expressed thanks, I helped her collect her purse, hat, and shoes. Yes, she’d lost her shoes. She joked, “I was scared right out of my shoes.” After helping her, I checked the spider web. It remained intact, which pleased me.

I encountered several friends. One was looking for me. She needed help with her math work for her college class. She showed me the problem. Hugely involved, it was supposed to be a formula for setting an item’s price. She was asking, “What should I do first?” I tried explaining math’s order of operations. She didn’t understand. Borrowing her textbook, I hunted for items in the book to help her, and then worked on the problem myself.

It took more time than I expected, and I didn’t solve it. Now I was two hours late and needed to rush. Going through the airport, I saw my friend again. Others near me wondered aloud what his lines were for. I explained to them that business was bad so he was augmenting his income by catching and selling fish. They didn’t believe me so I took them to him and verified it.

Then, really, I needed to go because I was late. But I couldn’t recall where I’d parked my car. Then, thinking I knew where I’d parked my car, I needed to figure a way to get there because it was far. I learned a shuttle was available to reach it. I purchased a ticket for the shuttle. It showed up after a few minutes. I put my things in the trunk and rode with the rest. At the other end, I got off, collected my stuff, and looked around. I knew right off that this wasn’t where my car was parked. I went to the man and told him. He said I needed to take a second shuttle from there, and to put my stuff back into the trunk. When I went to do so, that car had left without me. I was surprised and a little upset but immediately started working on another plan to reach my car. Looking around, I started figuring out where I was and then decided I could walk to my car.

That’s where the dream ended.

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