Car & Places Dream

First, I traveled by boat. I was traveling with a group but never saw more than one a a time. I think we might have been military but we didn’t wear uniforms or use ranks.

In the first stage of our traveling, we went by boat, but that was only mentioned; I was never on the boat in the dream. We arrived at an island spa resort. I was dressed very casually in jeans with a light pastel Polo shirt. A woman greeted me and told me that I would be in a villa but in a different location from the officers. She also told me that I was the only enlisted present. One of the others came by at that point to check on me and then told me I was invited to dinner that night.

Ferrari Daytona coupe; not my car.

Next, I left the resort. I was driving. In a weird sequence where the POV changed, I saw that I was driving a 1971 Ferrari Daytona coupe. This was a car that I greatly admired when I was a teenager. Red, it was in perfect condition. Other people pointed at it as I drove by, which greatly pleased. Abruptly, my wife was with me as a passenger. I found a place to park by a curb so we could go in and have dinner.

My 1993 RX-7.

Then, I was driving again. This time I was in a 1993 black Mazda RX-7 like I used to own. A cousin was with me. I drove along a beach at the ocean and then found a black to park so we could get something to eat. After I got out the car, I was speaking with him and told him, “Don’t lock the door yet.” But he slammed the door shut. Horrified, he said, “I’m sorry.” I replied, “You locked us out.”

But I then discovered that the car was a targa, with a removeable roof panel. So all I needed to do was reach in the car to unlock it, which I did. I then remarked, “I guess I should put the roof on if I want the car to be locked.” I put that on but as I did, I thought to myself in the dream, funny, but Mazda never made a targa version of this car.

Dream end.

Three Out of Five Times

Daily writing prompt
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

I’ve gone across the United States a few times. Furthest was from San Fransisco to New Hampshire via New York. I did that a few times in the military, always by train, and then SF to Connecticut via NY a few times for business, also by train.

I’ve always loved traveling by car. Back in the late 1950s and early 1960s, my parents loaded us into cars and off we went! One trip, barely remembered, was in a large Chevy station wagon from California to Pennsylvania. I think I was three years old. What I best remember about that was that I shared space in the station wagon’s back end with my older sister and a large black trunk. The trunk was useful as a fort and a table. Traffic being what it sometimes was, peering out the windows and waving to others was a recurring pastime. There were many coloring books involved with that trip, too.

My wife and I took a few almost cross-country trips. After I returned from my military assignment in the Philippines, I traveled to West Virginia where my wife stayed with her parents via commercial aircraft and Greyhound bus. Some of the logistics are a little foggy in my head, but I ended up visiting family in Pittsburgh and bought a used Porsche 914 there. I drove it down to West Virginia, and then my wife and I drove it across the southern United States to my new duty location outside of San Antonio, Texas. The first five hundred miles was through a blizzard. We then drove the reverse trip eight months later, when I decided to exit the military.

Funny enough, years later, there we were, in Texas again. This time we’d returned to the United States from an assignment in (on?) Okinawa. We’d been there for almost four years. Two things to know about driving in Okinawa was that it was on the left side of the road, with a right side steering wheel and the fastest speed we’d gone was 100 KPH, about 61 MPH. Renting a car in San Antonio at the airport, we were suddenly driving on the other side of the ride, the steering wheel on the other side, in the rain, at night, at 70 MPH. It was an awakening.

We then bought a new car, a Mazda RX-7, and drove it from San Antonio, Texas, to…ready? West Virginia. A big blizzard struck Texas that year. Interstate 10 was closed. Fortunately, Texas has Interstate ‘access roads’. We drove out of San Antonio through the blizzard via the access roads until we could get onto I-10. Man, I’ll tell you, traffic was pretty light.

I’ve flown cross country multiple times since then. The last time that my wife and I drove across cross country was from West Virginia to California. This was 1991. We’d been assigned to a base in Germany. She returned a few months early and was living not far from her parents in West Virginia. She’d bought a little Honda Civic. We loaded her and our three cats, Rocky, Crystal, and Jade, into the Honda, along with her belongings, and drove to Sunnyvale, California, via the Rocky Mountains. Let me tell you, the Honda, with its 1.5 liter engine, wasn’t happy about the Rockies. We’d swooped down the mountains as fast as we dared to build up speed to get up the next one. Geez, what a trip.

Not our actual car. Our car looked just like this, except it was gray.

I’ve also gone from Texas to Pennsylvania via Greyhound bus after finishing military basic training in 1975. But the one thing I always wanted to do was take a train across the country. We traveled by train in Japan and Europe, and loved it. It’s hasn’t come to pass in the U.S.

Maybe, someday, though, maybe someday…I’ll get to take a train ride across the United States.

Frieda’s Wandering Thoughs

My friends have bought a new EV. Hyundai IONIC 6. All wheel drive.

The purchase surprised everyone except the husband. He orchestrated the deal. He’d been planning to purchase a Tesla, but…well, was now too dissatisfied with the CEO to buy one of them. Besides, he’d read good things about the South Korean EV and its price was much better than the Tesla rival.

But…there’s been a few problems.

As background, they’re intelligen individuals. Tech savvy. She’s my age, and he’s two years younger. He graduated from MIT and was an early Apple software engineer. She’s a University of Michigan graduate. They met at Apple, where she also worked. Since retiring from their Apple days, he’s continued as a digital entrepreneur, creating apps for Apple products. She wrote a textbook on computer network security and teaches computer forensics at our local college. Both have been involved in genome projects.

But their new car has them challenged. First day, they hopped in for an errand. A chilly morning, they turned up the heat and then…tried to start the car. It wouldn’t. They were forced to leave the vehicle, re-enter, and try again, this time starting the car before turning on the heat.

The next day, she was late for exercise class. She’d started the car, then adjusted the heat. Then, she could not get the car into reverse. She sat in the driver seat, madly googling on her iPhone about how to put her new car into reverse. Not getting any joy, she turned off the car, left it, and got back in.

On hearing these stories, my wife said, “So you’ve had to reboot your car a few times?”

Yes, the techies laughed.

Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I parked beside a bright blue Jeep Wrangler today. As I closed my door and turned to walk away, I glanced into the car.

There, are their dash were small plastic ducks. I counted twelve, all neatly lined up.

It prompted me to smile as I walked away. I was happy for them. Not many people can be said to have their ducks in a row these days.

You gotta respect it when someone does.

Ambitious? Just Back Off

Daily writing prompt
Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.

When it comes to DIY, ‘ambitious’ isn’t in my vocabulary. Honestly, I keep it simple.

I miss the old days, when part of my DIY routines were working on the car. Changing oil, cleaning or replacing the spark plugs, setting the ignition timing, rotating the tires, installing new brakes, bleeding that system, replacing the radiator coolant, etc. Those were fun and rewarding DIY projects. Then, though, cars became complicated. Engine bays became packed so tightly that reaching spark plugs was an ordeal. Getting to the oil filter was a nightmare. I’m reduced to installing a new battery in the car and topping off the windshield wiper fluid.

Around the house, I’ve done multiple small jobs. Replaced the furnace’s control board. Installed new thermostat. Replaced the filters, installed capacitators on the air conditioning, along with some other pieces on it. I’ve installed new light fixtures in various rooms, took the dishwasher apart and fixed it, and did troubleshooting on the microwave, replacing fuses and different parts. Likewise, I’ve done some plumbing work but I keep it simple. I’ve painted all the rooms except two, installed a blower in the gas fireplace, and do all my yard work. Yes, I’ve installed some shelving and assembled furniture.

On my computers, I’ve swapped out hard drives, processors, fans, video cards, and power supplies, and added or changed memory. In many ways, I think of them as the modern equivalent of working on cars back when cars had mechanical systems. I’ve installed and replaced routers and modems, replaced keyboards, added different streaming devices and printers, and did basic troubleshooting on software and security, uninstalling, reinstalling things as necessary, and took apart the keyboards and cleaned them.

Many of these things are driven by being cheap. I don’t want to pay others for what I think I might be able to fix. I’m also driven to understand these things more. I want to know how they work, how the parts interact, etc. These systems are mature and demonstrate ingenious engineering solutions. Finding how they work amazes me, and the Internet is a useful tool for that purpose. Then, to restore them when they’ve died is such a validating process.

That validation process is a big component. In a complex world, where so much seems beyond our control, it’s satisfying to take something broken apart, and make it work again. Just keep it simple.

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

“It sure is coming down,” my wife declared a while ago. It’s an expression we heard often from our parents. I don’t hear many say it any longer.

Watching the snow, she chose to walk to her exercise class. It’s about .6 miles. She caught a ride back home.

“How was your walk?” I asked.

“Slippery! It’s very slick on the sidewalks. The roads don’t look too bad.”

That was three hours ago. The roads have gotten worse. Snow hasn’t ceased. The temperature continues to hang around 32-33 F. All of this triggers memories of snowstorms I’ve endured. It’s good to have experience but one thing that you learn from experience with this sort of weather conditions is that anything can happen without warning.

You gotta remain vigilant.

The Lost Tables Dream

This was obviously a dream about change. Anxiety. Confusion.

My wife and I were young people. We had a habit of driving to work together. We were taking turns driving. One would drive one day, the other would drive the next day. The dream showed this happening. Different cars for her and me; my car was a black sports car. Don’t know any details of it. Less is known of her car.

Although always going to the same place, part of our daily drive process was to consult on our phone about where we were going. That’s because the path changed every day. So whoever wasn’t driving was tasked with looking up the destination on the map and give driving instructions.

The dream showed this. I drove, she drove, I drove, she drove, etc. She looked up the directions, I looked them up, she looked them up, I looked them up.

Traffic was busy each day but the weather was good.

Our daily destination was a parking lot by a restaurant. We’d park near there and go on our separate ways to work. After numerous days of this, I was driving. My wife was looking up the instructions. But she was struggling with a signal and I, meanwhile, had made some guesses and found the way. She announced, “Got it,” right as we arrived at the restaurant.

But as I pulled up, I noticed that it was completely different. All of its tables were gone. The usually thriving place was completely empty.

Stunned, I told my wife, “Look. Something happened.” She was busy getting out of the car and heading to work so I repeated myself several times, further elaborating, “There’s no one there. The tables are gone. The place is empty.”

She left for work. I walked over to the area and then walked through the empty place, wondering how it had all changed, seemingly overnight. What I wondered most was, where are all the tables? They had so many tables. There was no sign that any tables had ever been there. As I stood there looking, I saw others hurryng by in the sunshine.

None gave the place a second look.

The Factory Dream

I was a young man, possibly in my early twenties. Some other fellows were with me at a factory. I’m not sure how many were present. There were at least three, but maybe five, not including our overseer. I never took a head count.

We were in a factory doing a special job. No details of that job are available. It was cold but sunny weather. The factor was a plain, spare building with a whitewashed apparance that presented an air that it was on the verge of being abandoned or falling apart. Corrugated metal construction. Gaps in the walls. Bare, cracked cement floor. Signs that it’d be used for something else before and was now on a fifth or sixth life.

Under an uneven combination of weak overhead lights and sporadic, fading sunlight eking in through large, filthy windows, we worked around a long, dirty conveyor belt putting things together. As part of this, each of us were given some small black devices which seemed to be some sort of governor and also a CPU that told the system what to do. To install mine, I had to climb up a tall metal shaft and slip it into a slot just so. Some jiggling followd and then the conveyor belt sprang into noisy activity.

I don’t know what we were making but we shut everything back down and gathered again. The overseer, an oversized white guy in his mid-forties or early fifties, receding brown hairline and white short sleeve shirt with a tie, told us that we had one more run and then we could go home. But the other run was at another factory, about a mile away.

I had a car, a dark brown 1970s era Chevy Malibu. Sort of a ratty vehicle. I asked another for a ride to the other factory. Once we got there, I realized that I would need to return to the previous factory. We’d been sleeping in some little locker room there on cots. I’d left my clothes and gear there, not to mention my car, and would need a ride back.

This seemed to irritate the other guy, a big, good-looking guy with short, curly hair. He turned surly, and then shunned me during the rest of the session and wouldn’t speak to me. I was taken back by the change and wanted to talk to him about it.

The regular factory workers arrived. They all seemed to be foreigners to go by their dress, appearance, and language. They watched me as I climbed up to install my governor, laughing and joking about it. I gathered they had some other way of doing that and my method seemed strange to them. I tried explaining, “This is what I learned,” and asked for information about the other way. They wouldn’t address my questions.

That’s where the dream ended.

The Fish Dream

I dreamed I was a fish. Apparently a youngish fish, I was gold and orange with red highlights. Swimming alone, I became aware that I had a pretty good memory, for a fish. I developed understanding that there were fish swimming around who unknowingly carried messages on their skin, and that there were some fish who carried memories and knowledge in their minds. All of these kinds of memories and knowledge had a short life and would fade, even though it all lasted longer than most of the other fish ever remembered anything. I began hunting out knowledge and memory fish after I established that I could transfer their knowledge to myself, keep it longer, and use it. I observed how several knowledge fish would swim together in schools, and other fish would join them, using information from knowledge fish to make decisions. But schools of fish avoided other schools, even if they were the same kind of fish. So knowledge would often not get spread past a school, keeping all of the fished dumbed down.

I began resolving to change that, to become a fish that spread and shared knowledge between different kinds and schools of fish. I felt that making all of us smarter would help preserve knowledge and maybe improve our lives.

Then the dream took a turn where an individual was lost and confused, and it sort of dissolved.

Then I went into another dream. In it, I was back to driving some silver, stunningly expensive sports car. I was alone in that one, and just driving along a blacktop road. Rising and falling, the road cut through an emerald green land under a blue sky. I would sometimes stop and exit the car just to gaze at the land and feel the sun and wind. I was much younger, but better looker than real life, with a dark beard. I never saw anyone else in the dream; just some dark birds silently flyin through the sky.

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