Category: cars

End of World Dreams

I’m covering two of my three end of world dreams from last night. First, these dreams had very dark settings. Most of the first one took place underground or at night.

Another aspect that fascinated me about the dreams was how it combined elements of my military career with my IBM employment. Trippy mind work going on there. And now, the dreams.

I was working for IBM and it wasn’t going well. Exhausted from working and trying to save our division, many of us were sleeping at work, going twenty-four hours to try to save it. But we’d run out of time and knew the division was going to be shut down. Worse, and more surreally, we realized that the world was ending. How and why it was ending, the dream never covered. But this was something I knew, and was continually in the back of my dream mind.

To start, I’d been sleeping on the floor in my work office. It’s totally dark. I have a few private possessions and clothing, and that’s it. Voices awaken me. I listen and recognize our division director dismally describing the situation: world ending, division ending, shutting down. We were hanging on to our jobs because it gave us some hope that something could be done to stop the end of the world. Now he’s saying, we failed.

His comments stir me into a restless fit. I pace, trying to brainstorm about what we can do. Crazy ideas emerge but nothing sensible. I want to go talk to him about it, so I dress and head out, tracking him down.

The office area is built on a rock-strewn coastline. I clamber over rocks to find the director. He vaguely knows me. I throw out some ideas and he thanks me but tells me, they’ve already shot down those ideas because we don’t have the resources. It’s all dark doom and gloom.

I wander into another section and find an unused office. Turns out, the IBM offices are built on top of an old military base. The office used to be a missile control center. Finding a key, I put it into a dusty receptacle and turn it.

From elsewhere, I hear alarmed chatter that there are lights on: a missile is firing. I’m horrified to discover that I’ve turned a key to launch a nuclear missile. I’m also shocked; apparently, this one was overlooked when the nukes were removed. I frantically attempt to turn back the key but fail. Finding the director and other people, I try to reassure them that the nuke won’t detonate because it wasn’t armed, but I’m not sure. I’m pretty certain that high explosive are in the warhead and will detonate. I speculate that could cause the nuke to go off.

I run out to watch it. The missile launches into the dark sky. Huge ocean waves are crashing into the buildings, tearing them down. Shouting warnings to others, I climb the slippery rocks and escape.

Time slips past. I’m now surviving with three other men in the remaining office complex. We walk around setting small fires to keep warm and looking for food. We’ve found a cache, so we’re not too worried. I’ve also found a radio and keep tuning it, attempting to pick up radio stations and get some news. I worry about some of the fires they’ve set because they’ve put them under wall calendars and posters, which are catching fire.

“So?” Others ask. “What’s going to happen? We’ll burn down the building? It’s the end of the world.” Although I understand what they’re saying, I’m thinking that they have a bad attitude about surviving.

We drift out of the building to find other survivors. We end up in an underground tunnel in a yellow taxi. I’m driving. The tunnel is dully lit with dim yellow lights. To proceed further, we need to stop at a toll gate. There are three lines. Two lines are hugely backed up. The third has no one waiting. We pull up to the gate for the third ine. I get out to talk to the gate attendant, a short, swarthy guy, and ask him, “Can we use this gate? We don’t have any money — “

He interrupts me by showing me a finger, wait. As this happens, a blond woman in a green skirt comes up and reminds the gate attendant that the gate we’re at is to only be used by VIPs and emergency personnel. She leaves and he turns to me and says, “Now you can.” I understand him to mean we can use it because she’s gone. I thank him and asks, “But how much does it cost?” He replies, “No charge.”

I awaken and think all that through. Falling back asleep, I have another dream about the end of the world. It’s burning, and I know it’s ending.

Another dream begins, and I’m with the other three men again. We’re just leaving the toll gate and enter a building. In there, we find some other people and plentiful supplies, including alcohol. We basically decide to drink and get drunk. Why not? The world is ending.

We’re sitting around drinking and hear the outer door open. Investigating, we find four woman entering. They tell us they were looking for someone to party with since the world is ending. We tell them that we have alcohol and invite them to join us. They agree, and men and women pair off.

My companion is a short, chubby woman. She and I begin making out but she becomes morose about the of the world and starts crying. I try consoling her with hugs and some positive statements but she goes on about how so many people are gone and it’ll all be over soon, which is why she and her friends were looking for someone to party with. She and I go back to the main room, where the others are also arriving. All have had the same situation, that the women are sad and crying. They live.

Dream end. I awoke and realized with surprise that it was part of the first dream because of the background situation, my companions, and the setting.

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

A sense of community often ends at the parking lot. Signs warn who may share their parking lot. Even on weekends and holidays when businesses and institutions are closed, they warn, “Parking Reserved for Customers”, or the like, threatening scofflaws with towing and fines.

Otherwise, it’s thanks for visiting and enjoy your day.

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The Power Dream

This was a dream where green dominated. I mean, it seemed like it was being viewed through night vision goggles and turning it all green.

So I was supposed to be taking some position of power. But on my way to accept it, I discovered a nefarious plot to replace me as soon as I accepted it. Following some dream plotting that I don’t understand, the position was vacant. I’d been selected to fill it. But once I filled it, I could be removed and another put into place. Apparently that involved a prophecy. I understood it all when I was in the dream but the plot evades me now that I’m awake.

Essentially, I discovered the plot early. What shocked me was that one of my sisters was involved in it. I vowed not to take the office because once I did and she removed me, she was installing a tyrant. That, I felt, wouldn’t be good for the world. So, added by others, I set off on a series of escape and evasion adventures. Many times, sis’s forces would have me partially surrounded. I’d feigned going in one direction and gallop in another, or I’d dress someone to look like me and then sneak out while the decoy distracted sis’s forces. This happened about a dozen times with variations in location and settings.

During this, sis would often be in a heavy fur coat, sometimes white but it would be black once in a while. She was being driven around in an old black Rolls Royce.

Meanwhile, I was mostly on foot. The settings were usually woods or fields with fences, and felt like a maze, but I discovered or created shortcuts, sometimes tunneling, and sometimes scaling walls to escape. People, mostly strangers, were usually helping me.

Besides all of that, my sister would sometimes call out to me to surrender. She would insist that I was misunderstanding. I’d shout back to her about how disappointed I was by what she was doing, and frequently mocked her inability to capture me. I also pointed out that even if she captured me, I would never accept the office, so she may as well give up.

In the end, I found myself on the crest of a green ridge, part of a mountain range, standing, looking down and back. Below was my sister’s Rolls and her forces, looking lost about where I was.

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The Book Dream

This was a chaotic dream, almost fractured, with abrupt shifts. It began with me running around a city. It reminded me of downtown Pittsburgh, PA, at the point, because of all the on and off ramps and intertwining roads and multiple bridges. While cars were zooming around, I was on my feet, jumping and darting from place to place.

“I need a car,” I told myself. “A vehicle, so I can get going.” At this point, my dream was giving me a heroically backlit presentation of a younger me standing on a white cement onramp looking toward the city.

With dream insights, I knew I wanted/needed a car because I had to cover a lot of ground. I was looking for books, and books could be anywhere.

This set up a set of scenes of me finding a car, driving, getting out of the car, and looking and discovering a book. It seemed like I did that a bazillion times (yeah, that might be hyperbole). The cars were always different and were sometimes a car I’d drive in real life: a ’68 Camara, signal orange ’73 Porsche 914, white ’72 BMW 2002, and a 2013 white Prius. Not always, though.

Finally, I was in a house. Not recognized from RL. Looking across the carpeted floor, I spotted something underneath a sofa. “Is that a book?” I wondered.

Walking over there, I lifted one end of the sofa and confirmed, yes, that’s a book. With a beige cover, it seemed worn and old. With some disgust, I realized that they’d been using it to prop up the sofa because a leg was missing.

I put something else in its place and dusted the book off to examine it. That’s when I found that I’d written. “I thought so,” I exclaimed, and the dream ended.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Warning: short rant ahead.

I don’t know if laws, customs, or behaviors are changing when it comes to driving in Ashland, Oregon. I don’t think it’s a change law. Although I sometimes zone out of what’s going on locally, I believe I would have heard about a law changing how turn signals are used.

Note: turn signals are also called blinkers. More formerly, they’re called direction indicator lights.

See, I’ve noticed a new development here. Drivers stop. As you stop behind them and wonder why they’re stopped, they start to turn and then put on their turn signal.

WTF? I thought the idea behind turn signals was to communicate with other drivers and notify them of their intention to turn. Doing so reduces the chances of accidents and injuries. Already enough of that potential when people are driving around in these powerful metal machines.

I see it in all situations, including changing lanes and at traffic lights. Red light. Stopped. Green light. They move up, begin the turn, and then put on the signal. Meanwhile, the driver they faced was starting to go. Now they hesitate because what the other drive is doing is different from what they’re communicated. The communication confusion spills down the line.

Was the driver who didn’t use their turn signal really just changing their mind? Could happen. Sure. But it’s happening so often now, I’m dubious. And they consistently begin moving into the turn first, and then put on the signal. That strikes me as premeditated.

It happened to me this morning. A large late model Ford pickup truck was stopped in the lane ahead of me. As I closed on him, I could see that no one was in front of them.

Were they broken down? Lost or confused?

Maybe. Because after the traffic coming toward them thinned, the began turning left and then put on their signal.

Yes, they put on their signal after they started turning, after they’d been stopped for about twenty seconds.

It didn’t make sense. For the record, the driver looked white, and a male — I say that because of the beard — in their late twenties to early thirties.

I’m not the only person complaining about the lack of signals. A 2019 NYTimes article explored the same sort of problem.

The NYT article asks, “So what’s the problem here? Why don’t many drivers take this simple safety precaution? When asked about their bad habits in a national study, their explanations seemed confounding.

“The study by Response Insurance of Meriden, Conn., found that 42 percent of drivers claimed they didn’t have enough time to signal before turning. Nearly a quarter of drivers blamed laziness, while 17 percent said they skipped signaling because they were apt to forget to cancel the blinkers. Worth noting: Men admitted that they were more likely, by 62 percent to 53 percent, to change lanes without signaling.”

Laziness. Really? Turning on that signal is that challenging to their strength, attention, and energy?

My situation is a little different. Drivers here ARE turning their signal on, but not until they actually start turning.

I don’t understand what’s going on in their head. It’s such a simple thing. As the NYT article notes, “Is it that some drivers just don’t care about the other guy? If that’s the case, consider this: There is evidence that the act of signaling provides a cognitive benefit to the driver.

“When you turn on the turn signal, you’re turning on your brain,” said Chris Kaufmann, a driving school instructor who specializes in teaching people who drive V.I.P.s.”

My impression is that drivers not using signals until they’re in the turn unaware of the law or they’re not mentally involved in their driving. Maybe they’re on the phone, listening to the radio, or chatting to another in the car.

Driving a car is part of a system. When some drivers don’t follow the system’s rules, it starts breaking down. Maybe it’s anal of me, but that’s how I see it.

Probably just me.

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