Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I had two dental appointments yesterday. The first was scheduled for 10:00 AM in Ashland. A second required me in Medford, up Interstate 5, at 2:10 PM.

The first dentist is about a mile from my house. A road closure caused some initial issues. They’d closed Tolman, my usual route, to re-oil the chipseal. Like, thanks for the notice, city! It’s something we’ve consistently encountered in Ashlandia in recent years: they close roads for work with little warning and just expect you to find your own work-around.

I disliked that start. This appointment was for a new bridge. The one installed back in ’07 — yes, this century, smart ass — had finally given up the clue. I sneezed it out one day last fall, chipping it. I was recovering from ankle surgery and decided I’d deal with one issue at a time. Then, finding a dentist, making appointments, and here I was, having it done in June.

Went pretty well except the AI on their bridge design software decided to take some time off. The bridge was scheduled to be done by 12 PM. I left the chair at 11:15, went home, and came back at noon only to be told about the issues. It’d be at least another 35 minutes. I left for home again. Each time that I went home, BTW, I’d go in and show my wife my incomplete work and ask, “What do you think of my new smile?” Returning at 1 PM, the bridge was ready. Fifteen minutes later and $3900, it was done. On to Medford for my oral surgery consultation.

I arrived at my Medford appointment at 1:45; they saw me at 2:30. “Sorry for the wait.” Yeah, thanks, I had nothing else to do! I’d spent the time reading “The Sentence” by Louise Erdrich. Once in the chair, I went through the usual medical history stuff and had the 360 digital scan of my mouth done. I was there to plan to have oral surgery to install three implants.

One implant was for an occlusion above it. They felt the tooth needed to be extracted and replaced. I agreed. The other two teeth had left on their own last November and December. They were side by side on the upper right side of my smile.

That plan went a little awry. “You have an abscess up here,” Mike Doherty told me. He was the grinning, energetic guy who was going to do this part of my dental work. “It’s 8 millimeters wide. Something of that size, we recommend a biopsy.”

Of course I’ll have the biopsy done. Gotta be safe about these things.

“Also,” Mike said, “because of the abscess’s size and location, we’ll need to do a bone graft first. Once it’s healed, in four to six months, we’ll do the implant for that tooth. In the meantime, it’ll be an empty space, just as it is now. But we can go ahead and do the other two now.”

So, okay. It’s scheduled for week from tomorrow. The process was quoted at $7,000. Which was depressing. The first car I bought was a 1968 Chevy Camaro with a 328 V-8. Paid $1995 for it in 1975.

Wish I had that car now.

June 11, 2025 4

A Loaded Dream

It was a long and involved dream. Here are some dreamlights.

I was a young middle-aged man and head of a small business unit. We were located in a semi-tropical, warm, high humidity area. It was not the United States. Outside of my co-workers, the people I knew had all lived in the same huge brick apartment building. All Americans lived there for at least the first four months after their arrival in counrty.

A black 1968 Camaro Z/28 with silver stripes seen three times. A young man was driving it. In real life, I owned a Camaro but not a Z. Mine was not black and silver. Black and silver were Bruce McLaren’s original colors before he changed the team to Kiwi orange or Gulf orange. McLaren was a New Zealand driver and car constructor I idolized as a boy. I had an HO scale racing car of his black and silver McLaren Elva in my car line up.

Musical groups were offered, including the Suzy Qs. That CCR song, “Suzie Q”, was played. Sam Smith was offered, too. His hit, “I’m Not the Only One” was played. In conversation, I was told that not all offerings were available. A weird and arbitrary fashion was invoked to decreed who could be seen, and who could see them. After listening to that, I rejected that method. Said that I wasn’t going to follow or enforce it because it was stupid, and then left. That ended that.

The weekly entertainment was offered on a waxy red poster on a brick wall outside among some foliage. 80 pounds was listed as the admission price for one of them. Hearing that, I opted not to go. A friend was sunbathing nearby. I lied and told her I wasn’t going because there was a baby shower for a woman living in the building the same night as the concert.

Saw two therapists, both women. The therapists were seen three times total. I walked with one of them, talking to her about some of my career frustrations and disappointments. When I saw the other therapist a second time, she couldn’t find my records. I then told her that I’d spoken to the other therapist about that therapist, and then told that therapits what I’d told the other therapist.

Overall, a very good dream.

April 14, 2025 2

68

Sixty-eight has a good feel to it to me.

I’m 68 years old today. Well, if you believe the state’s official records, and Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad claim they were there. But you know, parents tell stories. Like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or that they walked ten miles through snow uphill to get to school every day. Who can believe them?

My phone and computer has been pinging with birthday wishes from friends around the world. That really makes my heart swell three times its normal size.

I’ve been looking forward to becoming sixty-eight. It’s because of cars. See, in 1968, when I was twelve, cars excited and interested me. At one point, I thought I’d become an adult and design cars. I drew them all the time. ’68 was the year I saw sporty performance Mustangs and Camaros, along with an actual XK-E Jaguar that someone parked in a neighbor’s driveway. So cool!

So 68 has a good feel for me. It’s exciting, full of energy and promise. I hope I can sustain that across 365 days, because I’m getting pretty excited about becoming 69. Wait till I tell you about it.

July 5, 2024 10

A Driving Dream

My wife, SIL, and I needed to take a trip. I procured a car for us, paying cash for it. It just happens that it looked just like the 1968 Camaro RS I owned in RL in 1975, complete with stripes and black vinyl top, a fun, reliable, and sporty car. In the dream, I didn’t know that it was like my Camaro of my youth because we were youths.

I don’t know why we were traveling by car, other than going from point A to B. Tucker, a current RL cat, was traveling with us. My SIL and I took turns driving, although I did most of it. At one point while I was driving, I suddenly couldn’t control the speed. I was telling them that in the car as I tried braking, kicking the accelerator, and then trying to take the car, an automatic, out of gear, attempting to put it into neutral. When I couldn’t move the center console shifter, I concluded, “I think we’ve lost the transmission.”

I managed to get the car stopped. We got out to talk and stretch our legs. My wife was inattentive and left the car door open. Tucker immediately leaped out. I caught him and then scolded her for leaving the door open and letting Tucker out. She dismissed me and what had happened, which irked me. We decided to go on. I thought for a moment that she was going to drive, which I didn’t want for some reason. I then drove again.

We arrived at a hotel and in a dream blink, we were checked in and up in our room. I think it was in Chicago. It was a large, lavish suite, which included a butler of sorts who was also pressing us to eat or drink, telling us each time, “It’s free.” I didn’t think it was free, but included in the room. At one point, we discussed going out to dinner. The butler started making suggestions about where to go. My SIL was reading about our room during the conversation and asked, “Do you know what floor we’re on?” As my wife replied, “No,” SIL said, “We’re on the 668th floor.”

I went over to the huge windows and looked out. Seeing how high we were, I gasped. “Wow. Why are we so high?”

Dream end.

June 10, 2023 0

A Better Dream

While yesterday morning’s dreams upset and depressed me, I found a dream from last night reassuring and energizing. My wife and I were driving in my old Chevy Camaro, a 1968 copper-hued RS with a black vinyl type, black stripes, and a sweet 327.

We were racing down a highway toward a project. The sun was in my eyes, so I constructed a hat with a pole sticking out from it and a small saucer on the end. I’d tilt and turn my head to use the saucer to protect my eyes. Something humorous was written on the saucer and on my hat, subject: beer, but I remember it not. When people read it in the dream, they laughed.

We reached our destination and parked. The project underway involved baking a ton of bread. We were volunteers, working with a local group. Another organization had loaned us their building for the day, a rambling, ramshackle school and industry combo. Built of bricks, following a form follows function straightforward style, inside was a maze of tiled halls and rooms. We found the folks we were working with and began producing bread. It was an odd process of holding small brown balls under a duct until the duct sucked it up. Somewhere/sometime after that, bread was made and delivered elsewhere in the building.

We were put on a break while they checked to see if we’d made our quota of bread. As we stood about and chatted, I spotted smoke coming out of the duct up by the ceiling. I pointed that out, and then flames appeared. A fire extinguisher was brought forward but we were waiting for someone to bring a ladder so we could reach the flames. Meanwhile, the flames were spreading, so I took the fire extinguisher and put out the flames. The guy arrived with the ladder, climbed up and gave it additional precautionary sprays.

We were still waiting for them to tell us we were done but my wife and I were bored and decided to leave. We ran down the halls like children, encountering grade-school children coming in to go to classes. Out into a hot, sunny day, we jumped into the Camaro and took off.

Construction was encountered. Don’t know exactly what was going on, but I kept going at a reduced speed over churned mud. A guy working a machine was met. He would work a little and I would drive a little. I finally reached my turn and pulled off. We were planning to have lunch. Children and cats were running around. I encountered an old teacher of mine. Wearing a red sweater and a skirt, she sat down on a green park bench and invited me to join her. I did, and she started asking me about NFL offensive linemen. I tried changing the subject and then my wife came up and told me we needed to go.

Dream end

March 21, 2023 0

Two Dreams

Thinking harder about two of the five dreams I remember from last night. Disclaimer: all were short dreams. Two seemed like brief skits. I didn’t appear to be in the third, but was an observer. Either that, or I was someone else. Not sure which. To the two.

I’m uncertain of their order, so I’ll go with the car dream first. My wife and I were in a car. It was a new Chevy Camaro. Blue with white stripes, it sparkled in the sunshine. It was a gorgeous car, and I was very proud of it. Although brand new, it looked more like the 1968 model than the current model.

We were driving down a wide, well-maintained asphalt road, going through countryside. The day was wonderful. No other traffic was met.

After stopping for gas, we resumed our journey, talking about what a wonderful day it was. I said, “And we can enjoy it more, because this is a convertible.”

So I retracted the top, and we went on through the sunshine.

Such a short and simple dream. Prompts me to think, it’s the simplest pleasures that are best.

The second dream found me traveling on business in southeast Asia. I was in a taxi, going to the airport to return home. Having time to kill, I stopped at some small place.

The taxi ride had been pleasant, with the driver and I chatting about everything and nothing. I was relaxed. When the cab left, though, I discovered that I didn’t have my phone. After thinking about it a moment, I realized that I’d left it in my briefcase, and I’d left the briefcase in the car.

Well, damn. I went into a shop, told the owner what’d happened, and asked him if he could help. He did, by figuring out what cab had brought me, and then calling him. After talking with the driver, he told me, “Bad news. He has your briefcase with your phone and airplane tickets, and he’ll bring them to him, but you must do him some favors, and take things with you.”

After a Q&A, I realized that I was being asked to smuggle. I rejected that. Instead, I’d buy a new phone, see what I could do about the tickets with the airline, and replace the briefcase. I was annoyed and disappointed, but not angry. I was also trying to understand who I could report this to.

I went around looking for a new phone to buy. Nothing satisfied me, either because of design, or cost. I returned to the original store. I’m not sure what drove me to do that, but when I entered, the owner said, “Good news. Come with me.”

I followed him to the back. There was my briefcase. I was surprised. He said, “The driver returned it. He decided that you would report him, and he’d lose business, so he dropped it off and apologized. I said that I’d give them to you. He hopes you won’t report him.”

I opened the briefcase. Everything was there. Taking my phone out, I said, “I guess I won’t report him.”

That’s where the dream ended.

November 10, 2020 0

Puzzle #11 Is Finished

We finished the “Dream Garage” (Michael Fishel) jigsaw puzzle today. Took us three days to assemble the 1,000 pieces.

While the odd shapes put me off, I enjoyed the puzzle details and vivid colors. Remember how gas stations often blazed with neon signs? Seeing those logos invited television jingles into my head.

Lots of Coca Cola memorabilia, but give me A&W Root Beer!

“STP is the racer’s edge.”

“See the U.S.A in your Chev-ro-let.”

“Only Mustang makes it happen, only Mustang makes life great. Mustang, Mustang, ’68!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCJPZrsocc8

“You can trust your car to the man who wears the star, the big bright Texaco star!”

Then the cars. Four of them were the sort of cars I slobbered over as a fourteen year old in 1970: Mustang, Corvette, Camaro, and Challenger. I ended up only owning a Camaro. It was a fun, memorable car, good gas mileage, excellent performance, and reliable. It was just a 327, though, not an SS 396 featured in the puzzle.

Besides the Coke and car stuff, there was a cigarette machine (how long since I’ve seen one of those?), a Wurlitzer jukebox (in the puzzle’s center), a pin-up calendar (over above the purple Challenger) and movie posters for Some Like It Hot and Bullitt. (See Steve McQueen up there in the right hand corner by the clock?)

Be a few days before we begin the next one. We have several in the closet awaiting their turn, but I’ve been eyeing a few on the net, so…we’ll see…

June 8, 2020 2

The Camaro Dream

It was another odd dream. I think I have an odd dream one out of every three nights, at least a memorable odd one.

This particular dream featured the first car that I bought, a nineteen sixty-eight Camaro RS. The engine was the sweet 327 V-8. An automatic, it was a metallic copper color with black rally stripes and a black vinyl roof. It was a fun car to drive, and reliable as sunrise. Nothing fancy or power was on the car. It was simple, and it worked.

Besides the Camaro, my dream featured my father, my late father-in-law, and an older man who, in the dream, was known as a local criminal boss. As for me, I was the age that I was when I owned the Camaro, about nineteen.

The car looked gorgeous, as it did in real life, well-polished and maintained inside and out. With those details established, I was driving the Camaro when I discovered that the floorboards were gone. Rain mixed with snow was falling, and was spraying up into the car interior from the road.

Well, that’s it, my father and father-in-law each told me. They’d been good friends in life. I’d met my wife through Dad and his relationship with the man who would be my father-in-law.

You can’t drive that car like that, each told me. I think you probably need to junk it.

I didn’t. Taking my own route, I found someone to build me new floorboards made out of wood. That’s what happened. They did a beautiful job.

I showed my father-in-law and Dad the solution. They were astonished and amused. The crime boss appeared, because he’d heard about it. Although he laughed, he said, “I’m really impressed. Good job, kid.”

I then took the car on an inspection. Already familiar with the car, they were preparing to declare it salvage when I showed them my new wooden floorboards. All were flabbergasted and disbelieving. I took the car around and showed everyone how I’d had new wooden floorboards made for the car, and how well they worked.

Further, I said, I planned to drive it across country. Snow was falling, as were the temperatures. People shook their head at my apparent insanity, and dismissed me. With alternate periods of snowfall and sunshine, and slush and snows on the roads, I set out, certain in my decision.

That’s basically the dream. When I awoke from it, I found that it felt tremendously affirming. I thought the dream encouraged me, keeping doing your things. As a writer, I work alone. I hear others’ doubt; I worry about others’ doubts about what I’m writing, and how it’ll measure up to expectations. In the dream, I sought approval from the two primary male authority figures from my young life.

They hadn’t approved, but nor did they disapprove. They accepted and said, go on.

That’s why it feels so affirming.

May 31, 2018 0

Today’s Theme Music

Maybe it’s just me, but this song is just cool.

Put this song in your head on autoplay, and you walk around feeling and acting cool. You are cool because this song has made you cool. You’re bopping your head just a little as you walk or sit, tapping your foot whenever you’re standing still.

That the group who came out with it, War, had so many hits, is amazing. I could have gone with ‘Why Can’t We Be Friends’, ‘Cisco Kid’, ‘The World Is A Ghetto’, or ‘Spill the Wine’. But I went with the cool.

Fresh out of the Peadbody Wayback Machine and 1975, (when I was celebrating finishing basic and technical training with the military, and was driving around the my first car buy, a 1968 Camaro RS*, around my first duty assignment at Wright-Pat in Ohio), here is ‘Low Rider’.