Category: Dreams

A Key Dream

The dream began with me buying a Porsche. A 911 SC model, which would make it between 1978 and 1983, it was dark blue – ‘Sunoco blue’, in my mind, after the color used by Penkse/Donahue in the late 1960s and early 1970s (on, for example, the Ferrari 512 they raced at LeMans/Daytona or the Porsche 917 used in Can Am racing in the first year) with a tan leather interior. Very classy and clean to me, even though it had right rear quarter panel damage. Seeing it, I made an offer, which was accept. I paid $10,000 for it, transferring the money via Paypal. After driving it home, I told my wife. She was pleased with the purchase. I told her I was going to have the body repaired. I wasn’t certain whether I’d keep it or sell it after that, vacillating between the options.

Penske Sunoco Ferrari 512, LeMans, 1971

After parking the Porsche at home, which was a sort of compound of buildings, I walked around, preparing for guests. They were already arriving. Someone needed a key. I had a spare that they could use to unlock a door. As I gave them that key to use, I noticed several emergency keys were by the doors, often hanging above the door. I told others that I didn’t think that was very smart. While, yes, it was convenient to have the keys there in case you forget the key, outsiders might come, see the keys, and use them to get in when they’re not supposed to.

I entered the main house where most guests were congregating. Dad was there, taking measurements for a project. He and I had a discussion about what he was doing, and more importantly, why he was doing it at that time, since the guests were arriving for a party. He replied that it would only take a little bit, and besides, the contractors were there.

Yes, the contractors were there, in the foyer by the front door on the other side of the crowded living room. I told them that Dad was taking measurements. The contractors, two men, were testy and impatient. Dad began calling out numbers. Hearing them, I repeated them to the contractors, telling them that those were the numbers they needed. Dad kept doing this, but the party noise was increasing, making it difficult to hear, and the contractors were slow to start writing the numbers down, forcing me to remember and repeat the numbers. As Dad kept moving around, calling out numbers, guests began acting as intermediaries between him and me, listening to the numbers when he called them out, then coming to me to tell me the number and where it was from, which I would then give to the contractors. This all struck me as pretty hilarious.

The dream ended while we were in the middle of doing this.

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A Short Car Dream

Don’t quite know what to make of this dream. This dream was all close first-person POV. A friend was with me but I never saw them, just heard them laugh or swear. I don’t know who it was. I’d purchased a new car, a unique, exotic collectible of sorts. (I never did clearly see the car in the dream). I’d acquired it at a large outdoor option. After purchasing it, I was inside, driving it, following a similar car. The car ahead came to a stop sign. Like me, it was turning left, according to its flashing signal. Nothing was coming, but it didn’t proceed. Impatience growing, I beeped to get them to move. The driver flashed me the finger, but then drove. I pulled up to the sign. As I stopped, a second hot rod pulled up alongside me on my right, then ran the stop sign and turned left in front of me, highly pissing me.

I turned left, drove a short way, and pulled in to park in a designated slot. I saw the first driver and their parked car but didn’t comment or take action. Throngs of people were moving in both directions. After parking my car, I picked it up and started carrying it under my arm. As I did, I saw a young woman coming toward me. She had a strap around her shoulders which was attached to her car, which was hanging on her back. I said, “That’s what I need to get. I can carry my car with me and leave my hands free. I won’t even need to park. I’ll just take my car with me wherever I go.”

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A War Games Dream

I dreamed I was playing war games. Not the kind where troops are loaded into aircraft and dropped somewhere while aircraft fly sorties and ships maneuver, such as the ones I did as an adult in the military. No, this was the board games type where famous battles are played out to see how you fare compare to the real deal, on boards pre-home computers. I used to play these all the time. I’d started with Battleship, progressed to Risk, Axis & Allies, and then got into more complex games. I’d even gone so far as to invent my own.

In this dream, I was a teenager. Like a movie, I was watching me. Walking around outside, I found small hills shaped like mountains and forests that rose to my thighs. Pieces about two feet tall were all around. Each was shaped as a tank to represent armor units, infantry, jets, destroyers, aircraft carriers, submarines, etc.

I realized I was on a huge board game. I wasn’t sure if I was a player, so I walked around, regarding the different pieces. They were very cool to me. The first pieces encountered were of WW II in Europe and north Africa, I discovered pieces from the American Civil War in one section, then found the Napoleonic Wars.

Someone told me it was my turn. I asked questions about what was going on, like, which side am I on, and what I was supposed to be doing. As the other explained it, I realized it was my father as he was when I was young. I was just grappling with pieces to make my first move when the dream ended.

Awakening, I chuckled about the war the subconscious neurons like to play as they engage in their own games.

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A Riddle In A Dream

I had a dream in which I ended up wondering, while in the dream, if I’d dreamed what I was thinking. I’ve gone similar routes to this before, but this one ended up as a laugher to me.

I was racing at LeMans in a D type Jaguar. The race had just begun. My co-driver (name not given, never seen), had qualified us, putting us at the front of the grid (but not pole). I was starting the race for the team. I managed a great start, and was battling for the lead.

From my point of view in the open cockpit, another driver and I raced our cars down a long straight, engines screaming, car shaking and vibrating around me. Taking the car to the absolute limit, holding it there, I edged my car’s nose ahead past a competitor on my right.

Now for a surreal bit. There was a small, bright green, bean bag hanging to the left along the straight. Whoever reached the bag and pulled it down was the leader of the first lap. I raced toward it, pulling ahead of the other car. Veering left, I threw my hand up and caught the bean bag.

Wasn’t over, though. We were hurtling toward the final corner. My competition wasn’t making it easy for me. They were holding back to brake at the last second; they also had the inside line, the true racing line. Coming up on the corner, I counseled myself, “Wait, wait,” watching the competitor. When he finally braked I told myself, “Now, brake, downshift, turn.”

I guided the car into the turn. Teetering on the edge of cohesion, the car progressed through the long righthander. Then I was through, in the lead, leading the first lap of LeMans. Jubilation roared through me as crowds cheered me on.

Then, as the segment ended, I pulled into victory lane.

I’d won the race.

Still in the dream, I was stunned. I’d won LeMans. As it was a D type Jag, that was in the fifties. Sitting before my computer, I searched on “Seidel Wins LeMans”.

Then, I thought, hold on. I couldn’t have won LeMans in the fifties; I wasn’t born until 1956.

And in the dream, I wondered, did I dream that? It seemed so real.

As I was about to tell this to my wife, she brought a tall white man and his daughter into the room. I was like, “Excuse me, WTF, who are they, why are they are?” My wife brushed aside my questions.

The child went to play. The man joined me. Reading a newspaper on the desk beside me, he scoffed. “Mansfield is in trouble.” He scoffed again. “I’ve seen this happen before.” He blithered on about some other companies who’d been in trouble. “They’re going to need help. Search for Mansfield and help.”

I did as he directed. I was only typing with one hand, however, and kept screwing up the search. Then, dream shift, I’m in a writing class with other students. The instructor is telling us about four elements. I’m taking notes.

A man comes in and calls my name. He wants to know if I’m okay. “Yes, fine,” I reply, puzzled. The teacher tells the man that I seem fine, why is he interrupting the class to check on me.

“Because he sent a message that said ‘help’ on a computer,” the man replied. “We received his message.”

Realization rising about what happened, laughter spilled out of me. I explained that I’d been trying to do a search on Mansfield needing help but kept screwing up.

Two other men, stocky, with crew cuts, in suits, solemnly brought stacks of books to me. “What are these?” I asked.

“Help books,” one man replied. “You sent so many messages for help, we thought you could use these books for help.”

End dream.

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The Magazine Dream

Spanky, a navigator who I worked with in Germany, was in my dream. He wanted a Playboy magazine but didn’t have time to get it. I decided that I would get it for him.

I ordered it and it arrived. Before I could give it to him, he had to go on a mission. My wife didn’t want a magazine like that in the house, so I had to hide it. I ran around the house considering hiding places, finally deciding that I’d hide it behind the HVAC return filter. She’d NEVER look there. But as I was hiding it, Spanky came in. I gave him the mag. Delighted, he took it with him and left on another mission.

Meanwhile, I’d received a red notice in the mail. The note said in big black marker, “Your package delivery was delayed by bad weather. We apologize for the delay.” The note confused me because I wasn’t expecting any delivery except the magazine. It had already arrived.

I then went to my wife and told her I’d bought the magazine for Spanky. That angered her, but I shrugged it off. Spanky wanted it, and I thought he deserved it. It only cost me five dollars, including delivery. I thought that was a good deal.

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A Rainy Dream

I was with some others. They remained misty and uncertain, voices on the periphery of my awareness.

We were to drive three identical Cadillac automobiles. Cream and brown two-toned sedans, I knew them as late 1940s cars, a model called ‘Sedan de Ville’. I was to be the driver of one of these three large cars.

Sheets of silvery rain were soaking the world outside the building where we talked, striking down visibility whenever I looked out a window. I knew we were in a city. We were addressing a large, electronic map. It showed the route to follow in thick dark green on a yellow background. Part of the discussion was about what to call our exits. Studying the map, I somehow came up with Jo Three, which struck me as funny. I explained why it should be called that and why it was funny but those details are lost to waking me.

Before leaving, white brunette women dressed in 1950s fashion presented each driver with two loaves of freshly baked warm bread. These loaves were set on the back shelf behind the rear seat, on on each side, in all three cars. I happily went about, checking the loaves, verifying what they were (rye, marble rye, whole wheat, etc.), and that each loaf was unique. Satisfied, I confirmed my loaves were where they should be, climbed behind the car’s massive steering wheel, and set off.

Rain still hammered the streets and sidewalks, denuding color so that everything resembled sepia photographs. With no wind, the rain fell straight down. Although it was day, street lights were on. The straight multi-lane roads were in good condition. Traffic was sparse. The place seemed familiar.

I saw a woman walking along a sidewalk under an umbrella. I knew her. I thought she was upset and decided that I needed to speak with her, and that I would offer her a ride. As I caught up with her, she was under an underpass at an intersection, waiting to cross the street. She crossed; I turned left, pulled alongside her, and wound the passenger window down. As she didn’t stop, the car continued parallel to her, propelled by the idling motor.

Leaning across the street, cold as mist came in the open window, I called, asking her if she wanted a ride, speaking loudly over the rain and the car’s engine. She declined, telling me that she enjoyed walking in the rain. I then apologized to her and told her that I understood why she was upset. She replied that she wasn’t upset, and that’s not why she wasn’t accepting a ride. She had been upset but now she just appreciated being alone, walking in the rain.

I accepted her answer and drove off. As I did, I looked back in the rearview mirror and watched her walking on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, getting smaller as the distance increased.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Greetings from Ashland, ladies and gentlemen, floofs, and the rest. The day is Thursday and the date is April 8, 2021. Our sun broke sky at 6:42 AM. The sun will exit sky west at 7:44 PM. That’ll give us a pretty solid thirteen hours of sunshine, brothers and sisters! Current temp has us at 42. A high in the upper sixties to low seventies is looked for but not counted upon.

I awoke with “I Can Dream, Can’t I?” by the Andrews Sisters (1949) roaming the streets of my mind. Yes, dream magic invoked that song, for sure. Thinking of it (1949, when I was born in 1956?), I wondered how I’d come to know it. I suspect Mom’s influence with her stereo. That’s the easy response but I recall seeing them sing it in black and white, so I pivot to seeing them on a television show or a movie.

Can’t I adore you?
Although we are oceans apart
I can’t make you open your heart
But I can dream, can’t I?

h/t to Metrolyrics.com

It was later covered by others, like The Carpenters, and Annie Lennox, but I enjoy the sisters’ powerful vocals and harmonizing.

Another song, “Hanky Panky” by Tommy James and the Shondells (1966) quickly overtook the Andrew Sisters offering. I can’t trace its lineage in my mind today. As far as learning the song, that would probably be my older sister’s influence. She was one of those forty-fivers, spinning little vinyl discs on her portable record player. Or I learned it via AM radio in the car, or on television from shows like “American Bandstand”. Do not know.

Anyway, that’s today’s music choice. Here’s an interesting video of it. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Time for coffee. Cheers

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A Sharply Focused Dream

Only recall one dream from last night, but it was bold, sharp, and clear. Back in the military (again), I was trying to help a younger person, who was also in the military. This involved helping three young kittens while the airman was simultaneously trying to organize assistance and travel for a group of her peers. Located outside the U.S., she’d come to me for help contacting the powers-that-be back in the U.S. for some authorizations. I was generally/usually the correct contact for these matters in a unit, but this time, I’d not been given that authorization for some reason. I explained that to the airman. She kept pressing. We took it up the chain as I explained to the wing commander and unit commanders that I couldn’t help her because I’d not been given the authority in this instance.

(Meanwhile, the kittens kept disappearing (often in bed clothes and blankets), but I always recovered them, keeping them protected, and feeding them until I handed them off to someone who could foster them full time.)

The commanders all agreed, that was a temporary oversight and didn’t matter, dismissing it, certain that it was going to be rectified right away. While I couldn’t believe that they were so dismissive, the airman exuded a ‘told you’ air.

The dream ended.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Salutations from the third rock from the sun. Today, we mark Monday, April 5, 2021 on the calendar. Here in Ashland, Sol presented at 6:47 AM and is expected to vacate the area at 7:41 PM. Temperatures are cooler today, just 47 degrees F right now, with supposed highs in the mid-sixties. Rain showers are likely.

Had half a cuppa coffee already. Taste buds are singing praises about the flavor and the caffeine is bubbling in my blood. Musically, me mind is mired in 1979 this AM, with Rainbow’s cover of “Since You’ve Been Gone” dominating the neurons. I think this has to do with a dream medley that I experienced that left me thinking about people I socialized with in different locations who I no longer see. Some have died, but with others, different paths were taken and gap emerged that keep us away from one another.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Cheers

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Sean Connery, Me, and A Cat In A Dream

We were ordered into a car. My companion, a male, was up front in the passenger seat. Top down, the convertible car began speeding along.

I said, “Is it my imagination, or do I detect from the motion that this car is going backwards?”

No answer came. As I processed that null response, I said, “Is this a Rolls Royce?”

The driver was looking back over his shoulder. He was in the right hand front seat. Looking back as he did verified for me that we were going backwards — I couldn’t see over the sides of the car to be sure.

The driver was Sean Connery. As that registered, I debated, Sean Connery or James Bond?

I gathered that we were going backward around a cloverleaf exchange and then accelerated straight onto a highway. At that point, Connery executed a handbrake turn, reversing us 180. We now traveled in the correct position.

After a time, the car was pulled over. Telling us, “See you later,” Connery hopped out and waved good-bye.

My companion — a short, elderly white male — and I were relieved to be free of Connery and have position of our Rolls again, because we needed to turn the car in. Problem was, that wasn’t the car that was expected, and the company would be upset. We traveled back to the turn-in location where a tall, white man in a suit greeted us. After hearing our problem, he said, smiling, “No problem. I can make this go away.”

Some paperwork was processed. As that went on, I checked some physical records. These tracked my health and activities. I was shocked to discover they were marked SECRET in the standard stamp at the top. It flummoxed me to think that those innocuous records were marked secret. I then also discovered my CIA identification, a rueful reminder of the secret world I inhabited.

The tale man returned. “Slide your company card through this card reader.” I smirked at the expression, company card, but did as told. “Your bill is twenty-four dollars,” I was told. As I reacted, he added, “It’s been paid.”

My original companion and I went off in another car. Exiting the building, a young black male stopped us. “You’ll need this to get back in.” He handed us a laminated blue card with black grease pencil writing on it. As he walked off, I called out, “No, we don’t need that, we already have one.” I held our original up, showing it to him, and then flipped the other to him. It sailed like a flying disc.

He caught it without effort. “That was impressive,” I said.

He shrugged. “I do that all the time.”

“How many times a day?”

“At least three.”

That impressed me. My companion and I drove off.

Dream shift. I was on vacation, walking toward a river. Bending down as I reached the roaring, turbulent river, I rubbed a cat’s belly. Wondering who this friendly feline was, I investigated and discovered it was my own ginger mini-puma. As I talked to him, he rolled around and then stood and stretched.

I was worried. We were over a mile from home. “What are you doing here, so far from home?” I asked the cat. In response, he trotted ahead of me, as though he and I were journeying together.

The cat splashed through some water. I crossed onto a natural rock bridge. Standing over the raging white water, I saw something scything through the water ahead. I couldn’t say what it was. Then a bird attacked me. I swatted it away. Another bird then attacked. This bird latched onto my leg. As its claws dug in, I beat it until it released me. Realizing that two birds attacking me was unusual and guessed, they’re probably protecting nests in the rocks around me. With that conclusion, I hurried on.

Dream end.

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