A Threefer: The Alligators, Awards, and Colrng Dream

After an era of dreaming where episodic and movie dreams that didn’t feature me dominated, dreams about me have punched back. Last night delivered a dream in three parts.

Part One began with me visiting with my sister-in-law and her boyfriend in Florida. Nice evening, etc, as we strolled along a via after enjoying a meal.

Two small alligators ran toward me. Each was about three feet long. I dodged them while warning others about the alligators’ presence. My SIL said something like, “Oh, those are my pets.”

They could be her pets but that didn’t stop the two from attacking me. As I danced and dodged them, one somehow leaped up and latched onto my back. The one chomping on me had hold of my shirt and a little of my muscle and skin.

I didn’t feel any pain, but I was terrified and wanted it gone. Whirling in circles and shouting for help, I tried getting free. The dinosaur-like beast budging.

I saw its partner still on the cement walk. “Oh, that one is dead,” someone said.

Retrieving the stiff dead ‘gator, I used it as a weapon, swinging over my shoulders to bludgeon the one hanging on. The tenacious reptile hung on. I finally shoved myself backwards into a wall as hard as I can. Crushing the alligator between me and the wall with enough force, it released me but then lunged for my neck. Twisting and ducking, I thwacked it with the dead gator and evaded its teeth. Then I ran away.

Slowing up, I found myself inside a sort of strip mall. Someone who I recognized as a brother (but not my RL brother), a large guy with black hair, was in there sitting at a white folding table.

He said, “Hey, they came out with the awards. I won.”

I said, “Congratulations, well done.”

Picking up the paper, he replied, “Wow, it says that you won, and that’s your ninth time in a row. That’s a new record.”

“Let me see.” I peered over his shoulder and read the news as he gushed on about how proud he was of me. He had a carrying voice. Others were soon crowding around, congratulating me. Disliking all the attention, I thanked them all, said good-byes, and hurried away.

Trying to avoid further attention, I ducked inside a darkened auditorium. Letters lit up in amber light on the far end. COLRNG. With a flicker of thought, I said, “Coloring.”

A man in a tux and top hat, carrying a cane, said, “Very good. Would you like to try another?”

Confusion settled on me. Seeing that word wasn’t hard, which I told him. He replied that most people couldn’t and urged me to try another. Try another? There wasn’t any trying in it. It seemed liked the weirdest game I’d ever heard of, but I agreed because I wanted to see this out.

Letters came up in blue neon. COLRNG. “Coloring,” I said. The man gushed about how brilliant I was. It must be a scam, I decided.

We moved on through green, yellow, and orange. It was COLRNG every time. After the orange letters, he informed me that I’d won a first level prize. Would I like to try for more?

“Sure.”

We went into another room. Letters in blue came up. COLRING. “Coloring,” I said.

The master of ceremonies boomed out, “You won! Would you like to go for the grand prize?”

“Yes. Sure, why not?”

He led me to another room. There, in big red neon letters, was COLRNG. “Coloring,” I said.

“That’s right! Congratulations.” The man in the top hat went on about how I’d won.

“What exactly have I won?” I asked. I expected some small and cheap offering.

“Fame, fortune,” the man in the tux cried.

“Right,” I responded, and left.

Entering a narrow hallway, I moved on. People coming the other way gasped and pointed at me in excitement. Bewildered, I asked, “What is it? What’s going on?”

They bubbled on about being big fans of mind, asking for autographs and selfies. Remaining bewildered, I signed and posed, sure that it was mistaken identity. More people rushed up, forming a queue around me. Security arrived to install order.

Dream end.

Things I Don’t Miss

Didn’t need to scrap ice off my car this morning because it’s garaged. I felt for the neighbor out there de-icing his vehicle. There, I thought, is something I don’t miss, which launched me into musings about what else I don’t miss.

I don’t miss lite beers in any shape or vintage. Thank the gods for micro-brews and craft beers!

I don’t miss saving and counting pennies to buy a bag of pretzels as a treat or to go the movies. My years of extremely tight budgeting taught me the value of budgeting and saving but I enjoy indulging myself now, and I don’t miss those days at all!

I don’t miss military recalls, deployments and twelve hour shifts. I don’t miss midnight shifts, either, or pressing uniforms and getting haircuts all the time. Mission success was satisfying and I met some excellent people and saw the world, but I don’t miss all those other military accouterments.

I don’t miss cable television. Cable was cool and fun for a while but as it developed into a commodity and charged more and more while offering me less and less, it became a huge weight of disappointment. The smart television, Roku and streaming services aren’t perfect but they’re better than cable.

I don’t miss all those company meetings. Six AM, 9 PM…on some days with IBM I was on telephone calls and sorting and answering emails for hours. Don’t miss them at all, nor the annual performance report rituals. I really don’t miss completing expense reports. Just like the military, I enjoyed the company of some great people while I was with IBM (and the companies IBM absorbed, NetworkICE and ISS). Them, I miss. I also get a little misty eyed about the absent paycheck and its company.

I don’t miss old technology.  Take my old floppies – please (badaboom – tish). You can take them to where the IBM Selectrics and my Brother portable typewriters are buried, along with my old KayPro 10 and Zenith 150, and my clunky SVG and EVG color monitors, and 4.87 and 10 megahertz operating speeds.

It’s a short list of what I don’t miss. I had a good time through it all and came out fortunate in the end.

What don’t you miss?

 

 

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