Category: Uncategorized

The Try Again Dream

The dream’s setting was a chaotic quilt of thunder and lightning, and wind and rain as screaming and shouting people rushed around me. Through it all, I didn’t know where I was or what was going on. Sometimes I’d recognize someone and try to ask them, “What’s going on?”

Nobody would stop to tell me. I started trying to figure it out by myself, but I couldn’t find any clues. With a little walking on a narrow trail, I found myself in a forest. The wind was bending the trunks over, and the branches thrashed like grappling wrestlers. Sometimes the wind was so strong that all I could do was find a branch and hold on as the wind hammered me. Lightning seemed to be striking some trees, too. I decided that I needed to get out of there. Although branches slammed into my head and back several times, I bent my head and kept going.

I realized that I was going up. It was hard, because it was wet and slick, but I felt like that was the best direction to take. I often had to grab hold of branches and use them to pull me forward. During the final part, I ended up crawling forward on my hands and knees. After some exhaustive struggling, I cleared the trees.

Spent and breathing hard, I looked around. I was high on top of a granite mountain. It was bare. There was nothing to hold onto. I was afraid that the wind would sweep me away, but I was determined to stay there and learn what was going on. Other than the wind, I realized I was now mostly above the storm. With a little straining to see through the storm, I got glimpses of waves crashing far below in one direction. Almost everyone was heading that way.

Not thinking it was safe because it was so steep, I didn’t want to go that way, and did a full circle in place on the mountain top, hunting for somewhere else to go. I found a calm area in another direction where sunshine was spread over a green slope. I thought, that’s where I want to be, but it wouldn’t be easy to get there. Mountains, storms, and forests were in the way.

As I debated what to do, I looked back toward the beach where the others had gone. Something prompted me to look that way, but I can’t say what it was. What I saw, though, was a rising tsunami wave rushing toward the shore. Appearing like something copied from a disaster movie, I could see people thronging on the beach. I realized that they were all in danger, but I had no way to warn them. I tried shouting because it was the only thing that I could think of doing.

Then I realized, I could fly down. All I needed to do was throw myself into the air, and I could fly down to the beach and warn everyone. Looking at the approaching wave’s speed, I thought I could get down there with enough time to at least give people a chance. Yet, I hesitated because I would need to fly through the storm, and that was dangerous. I wanted to take myself out of danger.

With growing understanding that I could fly wherever I wanted or needed to go, I looked at the calm, sunny green space. Going there appealed to me. I could fly to it, but that would mean abandoning the people on the beach, and as much as I hated it, I couldn’t do that.

Searching the mountain top, I found a cliff where I thought it would be best to launch myself. A howling wind pushed me around. Heart hammering in my chest, I tried diving off. The wind threw me back onto the ground, driving me backward like a candy bar wrapper. Scrabbling to hold on, I dug my fingers into the ground and held on until I stopped.

Deciding the cliff might not be the best place, I checked other places to launch, but it seemed like my first choice was best. Accepting that, I planted myself about twenty feet back from the cliff’s edge and waited. When I felt like the wind’s strength had dropped, I ran forward and dove off the cliff.

The wind slammed into me like it had been waiting to ambush me, and pitched me against the granite mountainside. I managed to catch myself before the impact and lessened it some, but it still hurt like hell. That was a bad idea, I thought, and then, surveying where I was, realized that my position was precarious. I couldn’t climb down. I had to either climb back up, or try to fly from there.

Aware that I was high and it was a long way down to the forested mountainside, I thought it would be best to climb back up to where I’d been. But now rain lashed me. Swearing at myself for my stupidity, I grew hopeless. Nothing I could think of was going to work. I’d blown my one chance, but I hadn’t known that it was my one chance.

With all that going through my head, I saw myself in my mind. The me in my mind said, “Don’t worry. Try again.”

He sounded so confident, but it seemed so crazy that I scoffed at him, demanding, “How?”

He – me – answered, “Try again.”

His response didn’t inspire me, but I decided what the fuck. After positioning myself among the crags and rocks the best that I could, I threw myself off the mountain. Within a moment, I knew I wasn’t flying, and flailed at the air in fear and panic.

Then the wind calmed. It almost felt like a hand lifting me up. After a few moments of surprised thinking, I realized that I was flying.

Growing calmer and feeling more in control, I changed my body’s pitch so that I could climb higher, see where I was, and find the people on the beach.

That’s when I awoke to a cat’s whiskers against my cheek.

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Floofpression

Floofpression (catfinition) – the look on a cat’s face.

In use: “Catologists agree that a cat’s floofpression can reveal it’s mood and intentions, whether it’s love, contentment, curiosity, or getting ready to attack.”

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June

Almost halfway through this year that we’ve deemed 2018. My writing discipline remains strong. I hope yours does as well.

The day was cold yesterday, and the trees were whispering, “Winter is coming.” Damn, man, I thought, hope these trees are wrong. By all weather logic that’s been established, the trees should be wrong, but you know how the weather can go these days. Walking in my shorts — for I dressed as an optimist — the breezes darting up my legs to my nether regions made me shiver.

Today, though, the trees are whispering, “Summer is coming.” Smelling grass that reminds me of fresh cut watermelon, I feel relieved by the warm breeze and sunshine that kisses me. Today, I’m looking forward to summer while hoping it doesn’t grow into the smokey, hot oppression of the last several years.

Today, I’m hopeful.

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On This Day

I was looking at a “On this day in history” timeline. Joan of Arc executed. Andrew Jackson’s duel. First Indy 500. Babe Ruth’s last baseball game.

Seems like May 30th is a good day to make history. Carpe diem.

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Bot-tender

I followed my robot vacuum around today. Using it for spot-cleaning, I’d move it, turn it on, and then stand over it like a football coach on OTAs. “Move left,” I’d tell it. “Get that fur. Come on, pick it up, pick it up. That’s it. Good job.”

Doing this presented me with a feeling that I was cleaning, but I also felt empowered. I controlled the bot.

Maybe, too, I was seeing the future. Robots and automation are taking over more jobs each day, with plans for greater shifts on the near-horizon. But bots and automation might require intervention and guidance, as my Roomba does. We may have a new job category opening, bot-tender.

It could be the hot new thing, but I don’t think it’ll pay much.

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Bless You

Where does everyone stand on blessing people when they sneeze? I mean, I say, “Excuse me,” when I sneeze. I notice many people don’t. I tell others, “Bless you,” when I’m near someone who sneezes, even though I’m agnostic, with tendencies that slide toward being an atheist. It’s something mom taught me to do. It was considered polite. That training, though, was almost sixty years ago. She could have been conning me, for all that I know. I was young and just learning the language.

Also, if someone is wearing headphones and can’t hear you, should you still say, “Bless you?”

Should I just drop the whole thing because it’s an outdated custom?

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Flooflop

Flooflop (catfinition) – a gallop cats employ while racing around the house; a stop, stretch and roll motion cats use to get humans to pet them.

In use: “The thundering noise was like a herd of miniature buffalo stampeding through the house, instead of an eight-pound cat flooflopping about.”

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The Story Left Behind

I’d been watching him because of his motionless manner of waiting. Dressed in jeans and a long sleeved gingham shirt, he stood straight, feet apart, clutching his box. Others fiddled, fidgeted, looked around, and shifted. Some checked phones. Besides that, the other eight people in the post office line were women. He and I were the only men.

He looked about my age, and had short grey hair, but I didn’t know him. Equal parts of bewilderment and resignation seemed poured into the man.

“Next,” the clerk said.

The man walked up to the counter and put his large box onto it. The box didn’t seem to weigh much.  As the clerk slid the box onto the scale, the man said in a loud voice, “There are eleven items in this box. Nine of them are glass bottles or jars. There are jams and jellies, pancake syrup, blueberry infused balsamic vinegar, and olive oil. All of those can break. I think the only things that can’t break are the Branson Chocolates and the pancake mix. It’s a thank you gift for my brother. We stayed at his house last week. My wife picked everything out. She said he’d like them. I guess I believe her.”

The postal clerk said, “Is there any alcohol, flammable materials, lithium batteries, or hazardous materials?”

“No.”

“Do you want it insured?”

“Yes, I was told to insure it and get a tracking number.”

“How much do you want to insure it for?”

“Fifty dollars.”

The clerk pressed buttons and applied labels. “Thirty-one ninety-five.”

The man paid.

“Have a good weekend,” the men said to each other as the postal clerk handed the other a receipt.

Nodding, the man folded the receipt, slipped it into a pocket, and walked out with equal parts of bewilderment and resignation, leaving me to wonder about the story he was leaving behind.

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Conversation

Do you ever have an imaginary conversation with someone else, and their imagined responses convince you that they’re right, so you do something different than what you planned?

Yes, this includes imaginary conversations with animals.

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