Tag: airport

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Cold and dark outside on this Thirstda morning. We’re in the airport, listening for the call to board, packed close to others in the same situation. Conversations rock and roll, mostly one end of cell calls. I’m ready for more sleep. My wife sits tight against me, watching like a bird, observing with sharp eyes. It’s October 23, 2025. 40 F outside. Our trip home has begun.

Today’s music came out of nowhere. I don’t understand what The Neurons had in mind when the entrance to the morning mental music stream and “Champagne Supernova” by Oasis was allowed to flow in. I think about the words, and that refrain, “Where were you while we were getting high?” I think too, of the exultation that, “But you and I, we live and die, the world’s still spinnin’ round, we don’t know why, why, why, why, why.” I like the song’s flows. It’s soft, reflective gentleness at the beginning, like lapping the waves. The hammering, conflicting guitars challenging one another, escalating with the vocals later. Then the gentle fall at the end as the last line repeats over and over with different inflections, “We were getting high.” It’s all about life and courses, and changes to me, how some things lift us up and other matters dump us, and how we sometimes feel different and alien from others. But almost all of us play with those ideas about ourselves, I think, as we slip and slide on the spectrum of being, of what we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going.

Goodness, that’s a lot of thinking and typing before having any coffee. Done worn me out.

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A Traveling Dream

I’d met some people on the road. We were going in the same direction, so we traveled together. I was about my current age, it seemed. It was a dark night. We were in a car that felt and seemed like a Jeep but I was sitting the back and another person sat behind me. This was a woman. The ride was rough and we bounced around a great deal.

I seemed to know the woman behind me slightly more than the rest. She said, “You seem like you’re very stressed.”

Laughing, I replied, “That’s an optical illusion.”

Saying, “Let me give you a massage,” she began massaging my shoulders and neck.

It felt so good. After a minute, I told her that. She leaned forward, pressing herself against my back, comforting me. Warmth flowed from her into me. I leaned back into it and turned my head. I wanted to kiss her but stopped myself.

Then she and I were walking together in an airport. She said something about her flight being changed. I reminisced about how I used to travel so frequently, I was often upgraded and never bumped because my travels were a priority. She said, “I bet your travels used to be a high priority, especially the ones in the military.” I shrugged that off because I couldn’t say that was true. Priority was always a complicated matrix in those days.

I was looking at our clothes. Very tall and my age, she was dressed in a light grey suit. I was in a charcoal gray suit. It was an unusual style, almost pseudo-military, and very wrinkled. I said something about needing to upgrade my suit or at least iron it.

We reached the gates. My flight was already boarding, so we hugged and said good-bye. The agent took my ticket and waved me in.

Dream end

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Another Airport Dream

I experienced three distinct airport dreams last night. Two were of the, ‘hey, I’m traveling in an airport’ style, once with my wife, and once without her. They were essentially just in the airport, milling around, waiting for my flights, without any events happening. The third was weird.

My wife and I were in our thirties and looked just as we would in photographs of that time. We were outside on asphalt, between low building with white siding. The buildings reminded me of military buildings erected in the late 1950s/early 1960s. Cyclone fencing encircled the site. Beyond were tall pines and firs in a sandy but flat land sketchy with broken asphalt and foundations where other buildings had been torn down.

We talked as we waited. I asked, “I wonder how much of this land and these buildings are going with us?” Because it was my understanding that they would fly us out by lifting the land we were on. I was struggling to visualize that process.

As time passed, we drifted into another area. Tall, fat, white, cylindrical pillars held ceiling up hundreds of feet above our heads. The paved area was open on all sides. People in knots, clumps, groups, were waiting all around although the center was clear. I walked around a while, looking, wondering when we were leaving, then found that I’d lost track of my wife. As I looked for her, I heard an announcement that our flight was ready and that we need to return to our places.

A stocky pale man with short hair, a red baseball cap, and a goatee asked, “Are you looking for your wife?” As I nodded and replied, “Yes,” he said, “She went to the Starbucks,” and pointed. I turned and saw my wife up on a platform, waving at me. Thanking the man, I walked toward her and waved her toward me, telling her, “Come on. It’s time.”

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Today’s Dream

Recurring themes proliferate in recent dreams: traveling. Being in an airport. Lost. Confused.

I had what seemed like one long dream. If it was a movie, it would have been about the length of Gone with the Wind — three hours and forty-two minutes. It just stretched on, and all took place in an airport.

But I’m focusing on one piece. I was traveling with a group of friends, waiting for our flight. We decided to walk down as a group to a corner store to get something to eat for the flight, or while waiting for it. But, we also discussed it and decided to buy food to donate. Thinking of that, I was looking in a large drum. Full of cans, I was selecting two to buy and donate to a food bank. As I was doing that, a large group of people came in through the narrow doors behind me, pushing me forward. I ended up being shoved into another guy’s back. Though I tried not to, I couldn’t help but plowing into him, almost knocking him over.

A big guy with short ginger hair, he was wearing a yellow-print shirt. He turned on me in anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was trying to apologize and explain. At the same time, I had a can in my right hand (a can of peaches, as it was). If he came at me, I was going to swing that can at his head as hard as I could, but I hoped it didn’t come to that.

It seemed likely but as he advanced, a larger man stepped up between us. “He’s already apologized,” this man said to ginger head. “It wasn’t his fault. The crowd pushed him forward. Why don’t you drop it?”

I liked that in the midst of all this, a person was stepping up to help and protect me. Ginger head moved sullenly away and the big guy went on. Then I did the same, proceeding into the next part of the dream.

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The Two Dads Dream

I encountered two versions of my father in a dream last night. One was younger, as I remember him from when I was a child. The other was middle-aged. I was also middle-aged. Both were energetic and in good-humor. Against the backdrop of having two fathers, I was starting a new job. Young Dad provided me a place to stay during orientation, a new car, and new clothes. He also provided menus for me to order food. I was sort of laughing at the offerings, telling him that they weren’t necessary, but also thanking him.

The new car was a white Alfa-Romeo convertible, a Spider similar to what was in The Graduate. Although I didn’t see myself driving it, I parked and was walking into the airport. That’s where I seemed to be working. Others I knew were working there. I was shown around and told that I wasn’t working ‘on the floor’, but in a management position. I asked to see my office but we ran out of time for the day.

I then encountered middle-aged Dad and chatted with him about the new job. I was excited about the new job. Middle-aged Dad asked me if I needed a place to stay, money, or clothing. Telling him no, my Dad was covering those things for me, I took him to my new home. My young Dad was there. I introduced the two but they were not enthusiastic about the other. I told each not to worry, that both were important to me. Middle-aged Dad left. I went to settle into my new digs, which was upstairs from where my young Dad lived. I moved all my new clothing up there. One outlandish white outfit blew me away. It reminded me of the outfit that Elvis Presley wore on his television special, Aloha from Hawaii. Holding it up, I said, “I’m not going to wear this.”

Young Dad called up the steps to me. He said that he’d had a bunch of dinner menus. “I noticed that you got rid of all those,” he said. “I guess you didn’t think they were healthy enough or something.” No, I didn’t get rid of them, I replied. As I was unpacking, I discovered a white binder. Its ornate cover said, “Dinner Menus”. It was like one of those binders of menus found in hotels. “Here’s your dinner menu binder, Dad,” I called down to him.

That’s where it ended.

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Airport & Parking Dream

Airports are another frequent feature in my dreams. I was in one again last night.

It was a lengthy dream. First, there was going to the airport. I was with my wife at that point and we just walked into the airport. Modern and friendly, the airport was as busy and hectic as a children’s playground. I met with a friend who sold us tickets. Business was slow, so he was also fishing and selling his catch. We laughed about that. Most interesting was that his fishing lines rose into the sky like he was controlling kites. We didn’t think anything of it.

After buying the tickets, I had time and busied myself shopping, eating, and walking around, classic time killing, airport style. While doing this, I saw a wonderful orb spider web. It was perfect. Just as I was about to comment on it, a woman ahead of me turned to it. Dressed in a red dress with red shoes and hat, this thin blonde woman walked into the spider web. As she did, I told her, “You’re walking into a spider web.”

She freaked when the web came across her face, and fell backwards. I was expecting that and easily caught her shoulders and kept her upright. While she expressed thanks, I helped her collect her purse, hat, and shoes. Yes, she’d lost her shoes. She joked, “I was scared right out of my shoes.” After helping her, I checked the spider web. It remained intact, which pleased me.

I encountered several friends. One was looking for me. She needed help with her math work for her college class. She showed me the problem. Hugely involved, it was supposed to be a formula for setting an item’s price. She was asking, “What should I do first?” I tried explaining math’s order of operations. She didn’t understand. Borrowing her textbook, I hunted for items in the book to help her, and then worked on the problem myself.

It took more time than I expected, and I didn’t solve it. Now I was two hours late and needed to rush. Going through the airport, I saw my friend again. Others near me wondered aloud what his lines were for. I explained to them that business was bad so he was augmenting his income by catching and selling fish. They didn’t believe me so I took them to him and verified it.

Then, really, I needed to go because I was late. But I couldn’t recall where I’d parked my car. Then, thinking I knew where I’d parked my car, I needed to figure a way to get there because it was far. I learned a shuttle was available to reach it. I purchased a ticket for the shuttle. It showed up after a few minutes. I put my things in the trunk and rode with the rest. At the other end, I got off, collected my stuff, and looked around. I knew right off that this wasn’t where my car was parked. I went to the man and told him. He said I needed to take a second shuttle from there, and to put my stuff back into the trunk. When I went to do so, that car had left without me. I was surprised and a little upset but immediately started working on another plan to reach my car. Looking around, I started figuring out where I was and then decided I could walk to my car.

That’s where the dream ended.

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A Movin’ On Dream

I was visiting a wealthy male friend for some holiday. It was a stop during my travels. In the dream, we were in our late twenties. He was putting me up for a day and night. Had a big, fancy place with alabaster walls high above everything else on a mountainside overlooking the ocean, window walls with fantastic views. He lived there alone.

We visited, nothing special, had a good time. The next day, he went off to work while leaving me with things that I should do before going, if I could, as it would help him out, undoing things that he’d done for my visit. I planned to do them but kept getting distracted. Then, curious, I walked down a winding path to where he worked, to see what he did. He met me as I left the path and told me, “I just manage things.”

It was growing close to my time to depart. I had flights to catch. He told me to take one of his cars. A short and confused discussion followed because I thought I had my own car. I did, but it apparently wasn’t available, I discovered, because he’d taken it off to be worked on, cleaned up, and detailed. That took me aback, but I was grateful and pleased, too.

Something about a container followed. He had this container that he used to do things. He did it surreptitiously. I got hold of one. It was a light green square. My impression was that it was a box for getting a burger from takeout. I opened the box and verified that it was empty. Residue inside it was from a cheeseburger, showing traces of cheese, lettuce, onion, and tomato.

I was running late by then, so rushed to depart. As I did, driving away in his fancy car — don’t know what it was, except it was white and luxurious — I saw that I’d forgotten to do something that I’d promised to do for him. I wanted to go back but realized that I couldn’t, so I went on with the intention of calling him from the airport.

Got to a busy, bustling airport. It was more like a city than an airport that I’d ever visited, with multiple highways and flyovers connecting busy commerce centers and terminals teeming with people. After a bit of confusion and disorientation, I found my way, parked his car, and called him, telling him where I’d parked and what I’d forgotten to do. He reassured me that it was okay, don’t worry about it. Disconnecting, I went on to catch my flight.

 

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The Stealing Dream

I was at an airport, awaiting a flight. Like it often happens (or its my experience), I’d had to rush, but now I had to wait. Restless, I shopped in a store. There I found a dark blue denim cap. Thinking, this is cool, I bought it.

Calls to board are heard through the noisy bedlam. I head that way but find that I’ve forgotten my hat, explaining to her that it’s new, that I just bought it. Amicably, she replies, you should go back and get it, then.

I head back and retrieve my new hat. As I’m leaving the store, I see another man. He has a package — it looks like a toy. Seeing him, I say, “Oh, no. I forgot to buy a gift. Now I don’t have time.” I think it’s for a young nephew, but I’m not sure.

The man replies with a grin and a wink, “Steal it, like I did.” He brazenly strides on.

Dubious, I think, well, okay, what’s the harm? I grab a package like his and leave the store. Guilt immediately swamps me. I want to return the package but I’m also running late for my flight. I can’t resist the urge to turn around and take the package back to the store. Putting it just inside the entry, I turn, put my new cap on, and run for my flight.

I can see my aircraft, a jet, outside the window. Deciding that I need to reach it, I squeeze myself through the glass, ending up between the white aircraft’s nose and the terminal. Wondering, what just happened, how did I get here, I know immediately, it’s because of everything that I’d just done.

The dream ends there, with me in a state of confusion.

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Dream Conference

I dreamed I was at a conference and on a panel with John Scalzi and one other writer. The discussion was about the future. The panel ended as the dream began.

Next, with my wife beside me, I was playing a giant video game. There were three huge screens, the size of something in a stadium, but they were the old “green screens.” People wanted to see me play this game because I was reputed to be very good at it. I wanted to play because I could win prizes. But, it quickly became apparent that the controller was malfunctioning. As I realized that, I laughed at the situation, surrendering to the inevitable, and the disappointed spectators drifted away.

It was time to go home, and we were at an enormous airport. I suspect it may have been LAX.  I was talking with the third writer on the panel when Scalzi came by. We engaged in a conversation about what to eat. Scalzi wanted ham with raisin sauce. Then he had to catch his flight and said his good-byes. Next, my wife had to catch her flight, so we said good-byes, and she headed for her flight. The other writer and I began walking to our terminal. He made some excuse about going off and doing something. I responded that I’d wait for him.

He told me that he’d rather I didn’t. “No offense,” he said, “but the visions you and Scalzi are just too dark for me. I want to believe in something more hopeful and positive.” Then he waved and walked away, leaving me stunned, and reflecting on what he said.

 

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