For Today’s Dreams

I need to think about and research these items from last night’s dreams:

  • Eating ham, and wrapping ham to take with me
  • Q-tips
  • Attending a rock concert in Japan
  • And the words, “Trey Chico,” which made a lot of sense to me in the dream

The name of the concert was “Trey Chico.” Three boys, I wondered several times during my dream.

It was an interesting concert venue. The stage was on one end in a field, about a mile from a field for parking cars. Between the parking and stage were long, open rows between rows of small apartments. Japanese people set up blankets in the open rows, and waited for the concert in the apartments.

We arrived early, in late afternoon for the concert. My wife was with me. We were in the cheap section. Meeting others, I ate some ham. I never saw any of the concert. I left right before they were supposed to play “The Star-Spangled Banner”. My wife stayed at the concert when I left. I wrapped ham in paper to take with me before I left, and made sure I took my laptop computer with me.

It was dark, but with lighting when I left. Fences blocked some sections. Others were attempting to leave, as well. I knew that the fences were there, but didn’t know how to get around them. A Japanese man came up and told us how to do it.

Walking through the open rows to get to parking, I was warned several times not to step on the Japanese, or their blankets. I cut back and forth, sometimes running, to go the mile to the field, and sometimes entered and left one of the small apartments. I thought they were clever, and that the concert arrangement was clever.

I ran into my wife in one of the apartments. She was with friends. They’d gone to a nearby shop, and then toured this apartment. Showing me Q-tips, she said, “They have the right Q-tip holders. We saw them. Where did we see them?” I knew, but I didn’t answer her.

Reaching the parking field, I oriented myself. After counting the rows, I turned and walked down one row to my car.

The dream ended.

Smockville Brewhouse

I’m pleased for my friend, Ron.

Ron’s son and daughter-in-law have started a business. Located in Sherwood, Oregon, it’s called Smockville Brewhouse. Click on the link, and check it out. Go ahead, I’ll wait here.

Smockville

I’m please for Ron, not because his son is opening a business, but because of the relationship the two of them, and the entire family, demonstrated while the idea germinated, the business plan was created, and the brewhouse established. It was beautiful to see Ron’s happiness, pride, and enthusiasm.

I hope the business flourishes. If it’s dependent on enthusiasm and pride, there’s a damn good chance that it will.

 

No Fun Places

My beautiful little sister – you know, the grandmother and great-grandmother – has her birthday today. Happy birthday, little sister! Naturally, I stream all manner of memories from the time around her birth. One bright, shiny moment was after she was brought home. We lived on McNary Boulevard in Wilkinsburg, PA, then. All my young neighborhood friends wanted to come into the house to see the baby. I don’t know what drove them to want to see her, but Mom obliged, you know, as long as we didn’t wake her. Let sleeping babies lie.

For her special day, my little sister – let’s call her Gina – wants to go to a restaurant where they get to spin the wheel. As I understand it, you spin the wheel, and you win gifts, or free food and drinks. Everyone else in the family did it for their birthday. Gina wants to do it, too. I understand; even I would like to spin the wheel. Alas, though, Ashland doesn’t have a place to spin the wheel.

Ashland doesn’t have fun restaurants like that. Dominated by the Oregon Shakespeare Festival and numerous art galleries, we’re very serious about food, here. We can blame demographics. Professionals dominate our permanent population. We have the theater scene, a forensics lab, university, and grade, middle, and high schools. They, and the city and the restaurants, create the job market, along with professionals to serve the professionals, like lawyers, architects, hair-stylists, and landscapers.

Most of our professionals are retired, with adult children. Food leans toward conservative, adult offerings, with interesting preparation and presentations. Pizza and pub-grub are offered as alternatives. The food is organic and natural, with meat from grass-fed, antibiotic-free animals. Vegetarian offerings are salads, black-bean burgers, or meals fixed with tofu substitutes. Vegan offerings are weak. The pub-grub is served with a helping of television screens to watch sports. We do have terrific breweries and wineries, and chocolatiers. You can drink and have fun, but that’s a pretty limited spectrum.

We also lack a good deli. The delis are embedded in the chain groceries – Safeway, Albertson’s, and Market of Choice. There’s no stand-alone deli to go in and have a sandwich made your way. Two Subways, one Wendy’s, and one Taco Bell represent our fast-food places. There is a Burger King on the Interstate exit, but that’s outside of town. That’s how serious Ashland is about food.

Even our coffee places are serious. Two Starbucks represent the mass consumer trends, but we tend toward places that roast their beans locally, or buy from someone who roasts their beans locally.

Here’s the tricky part. Our retired professionals have grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. They come to visit. Likewise, the theater-goers have children, and more people are moving up from California. These Caligonians have friends who visit, with their children. The thing is, children come. When they do, the most fun is the ice-cream shops, or pizzas. There’s no place to spin the wheel.

Yes, you can mark this up to demographics. Personally, I put it down as lack of imagination. One pub-grub place closes, another one opens in its place. Ditto, with the froo-froo eateries.

So you if you want a hormone-free, grass-fed burger, or an excellent omelet, beer, or wine, we’re your place. Just don’t expect to spin the wheel.

 

Symbols

You ever have a dream, and awake and wonder, now what does that mean? Then you search for meanings of things that appeared in your dreams?

Yeah, it’s cookies for me today. What does it mean to be offered a job selling cookies, in a dream?

Breakfast

You ever eat a pastry, like a doughnut or a bear claw, in the morning as you’re drinking your coffee (or tea), and think, this is not healthy, but it really tastes good?

Yeah. Once in a while.

Fried Food

Fried food smells so greasy

That odor is making me queasy

But I do recall

The deliciousness of it all

And the service and prices make it so easy

 

*Sorry, was walking, smelled the food, and this came to mind.

Dessert

Do you ever go into a restaurant and say to yourself, “I am so hungry, I’m starving,” and vow to get whatever you want, including dessert, but then, ordered something sensible and healthy instead, because, you know, you’re an adult and need to take care of your body?

Yeah, me, neither.

Tempting Article

Have you even been perusing the news, and come across an article with a title like, “21 great pizzas in 21 San Francisco neighborhoods,” and think, “Oh, my god, I could eat a pizza RIGHT NOW,” and then your stomach rumbles in agreement?

Yeah, me, neither.

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