Tag: change

Another Lost Dream

Here I go again. I’m in a military service but it’s again not the USAF in which I served twenty years. Some other dream-imagined service. I was enlisted as in my USAF but very senior. Wherever I went, my rank brought me respect, honor, and VIP treatment. I was a happy camper.

I’d been away. Now I was returning to my base. My base was a huge indoor structure. Civilians lived there as well as military. The structure also housed schools, a mall, shopping, and a train system with several stations.

Arriving back, I’m informed that they changed my rooms. Sorry, but they moved everything for me. My new room number was 316. Oh, no problem, thanks, I’ll go there. I went to where I had been housed, expecting my new room to be part of that area. Wrong; that room wasn’t there. After some fiddling and walking about, I was able to contact the housing officer. Oh, sorry for the mix-up, I’m told, that’s 316 but it’s in another area. Someone is sent to lead me over there.

This is a dream, so this young kid is immediately there. White, lanky, short blonde hair, doesn’t look like he’s ever shaved. He’s in awe of my rank, which actually makes it hard to deal with him. I joke with him to put him at ease as we walk around. We arrive at the correct area. I go to room 316. My stuff isn’t there. Two other, lower-ranked people are there. My assigned handler is appalled; the two in ‘my’ room are alarmed. I want to know where my stuff is. I’m angry at this point. I’ve been traveling; I’ve been moved without prior notice; my stuff is gone; no one seems to know where it is.

I’m given the names of the people who moved me so I can get answers. They’re students in college. Zip, in dream-fashion, I’m in the school part of the structure. Children of all ages are running around from class to class, level to level — there a number of stairs and levels, all under a huge glass dome where sunshine streams in. We walk around, looking for the college section, following signs and directions from people stopping to help us. I learn the three who moved me on are another moving job. My handler and I jump on the train. We’re transported to the mall section. It teems with shoppers. There’s a growers’ market underway as well. All this complicates my search efforts.

At last they’re found. They insist they put my stuff in room 316 in the cited area. My anger grows: I was there and my stuff wasn’t there. The five of us now — three movers, my handler, and me — all round a corner; we’re right back in the housing area where I’m supposed to reside. The two people in room 316 are confronted. Oh, they moved my stuff. Someone gave them permission because I wasn’t there so they thought it would be okay, and this room is much nicer than their assigned room.

The handler takes over as I steam. Arrangements are made to get them out of my room and get my stuff back into it.

Dream end.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Fanfare: today is Thursday, September 23, 2021. Why the fanfare? Why not? This day and date is rarely afforded fanfare. Might be birthdays for some, wedding anniversary, etc. But for most, it’s just another day sneaking by, bold as daylight, little counted. Not the end of a quarter. Nor the start of a season. Just a part of the year going on. I think it deserves a little fanfare, a little recognition for being another average, ordinary day in existence.

Sunrise on this ordinary day of ordinary grace came at 6:59 AM. Sunset will be at 7:07 PM. Almost to that moment of balance between night and day. Temperatures were unexpectedly cooler yesterday. High of just 80 F. Felt weirdly warm in the house. Today’s weather is delivered more of the same.

Went and had beers with friends last night. Outside at a local brewery. Well situated away from others. Six of us. We’ve done this off and on through the last three months, smoke allowing. All of us are vaccinated. One’s wife has already received a booster. Works with the homeless. The servers are all masked.

We were there to enjoy the fresh air and some local brews. Three days in a row without smoke, everyone told one another, friend to friend, server to patrons, patrons to server. Isn’t it great? God, how it must suck to live in a devastated area. To have lost your home. Maybe animals. Possessions. We count ourselves fortunate but already begin looking toward next year. For the record, I drank Caldera Brewing Amber Ale. I don’t hesitate to recommend that tasty beverage.

I mentioned to the others that it’s been a long time since I rock and rolled. Was joshing, you know? No one recognized the line. Or said anything about it, at least. Not even a blink. But of course, it’s out of Led Zeppelin’s 1972 song, “Rock and Roll”. A fast-paced ditty that I thoroughly enjoy. Natch, overhearing me think of it, the mental switches turned it on in the morning mental music stream. Good song to have there. I will share it with you and thank the Gods of Rock for delivering it to us.

Although I enjoy the original studio song, I went with this recording of a live performance. I wanted to pause, consider the group and stage setting. Such simplicity. So small. Intimate. No monster screen televisions giving close ups to people five hundred feet away. No smoke. Lasers. Just the performers, stage, and crowd. Simpler time, then, yet, so much more complicated and different than the ten years before it. So it goes in the mirrors of life.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the tune. Rock on, brothers and sisters. Rock on.

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Monday’s Theme Music

“Just another manic Monday.” Yes, welcome to Monday, September 13, 2021. I generally wasn’t fond of Mondays in my school days. Monday. Yech. Up early. Off to await the school bus. Then in the building. Didn’t mind school and did well but disliked that routine. Never was routine oriented in those days. Writing changed that for me. A routine was essential. Of course, I centered it around coffee.

We didn’t drink coffee as children when I went to school. Rarely drank sodas, pop, sugary carbonated beverages, whatever you wanted to call them. Our drink was chocolate, as in hot chocolate or chocolate milk. I’ve noticed that every coffee shop close to a school has a regular glut of children in there getting a morning beverage. Chai tea seemed like the fave was the longest. Of course, in my day, we didn’t know about chai tea, or cafe mochas or lattes. There weren’t usually coffee shops. They were rare and small. A place to get a blue plate special. Change, right?

Sunrise today was a proper one. Boosted by a clear sky and just the right angle, full sunshine beamed into the valley at 6:49 AM. We had a clearish day yesterday with good- to moderate- rated air. Green and yellow. Nothing over 90 on the AQI. Today’s AQI is 39. Sweet. Sunset will come to our valley at 7:24 PM tonight.

As for songs, a 1966 cover of an older song is in the mental musical stream. “See You in September” was covered by the Happenings and became a pop hit. Hearing it provides an interesting look back at how pop music sounded then, and how it was evolving. You had the surf sound going on, the Brit invasion, but also songs like this along with others by the Four Seasons, and Motown soul. Rock and roll was growing, and so was folk music. Rock and pop has always been eclectic. One of the reasons I love it. A song for any mood, a sound for any time. I admit that I lean toward blues-based guitar and piano sounds with subtle soul nuances. Sounds like I’m describing a wine, doesn’t it?

Here’s the music. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. If we do these things, then maybe we will see one another in September, out in public, without a mask, enjoying fresh autumn air. Cheers

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The Beard Dream

The weirdest damn dream. Well, dreams tend to be. At least in my world.

I was looking into a mirror. There was my gorgeous younger self (hah!) looking back. Mustache and goatee in place. Dark brown, almost black, because I was young.

My beard grew. Came in nicely along my jaw line. I admired it in the mirror. I liked that mirror. Then it crept up my cheeks and down my neck, growing fuller but remaining dark. Still liked it. But was chuckling. I could never grew a beard that full. Always rued that shortcoming.

The beard’s downward creep stopped at the bottom of my neck. Its upward growth continued. My mouth was bearded over. Then my nostrils. It covered my cheeks up to my eyes.

I was laughing. Looks like I need to trim my beard around my nose and mouth, I told myself. No one could see either of them.

Dream end.

As a bonus, another short dream followed. Short as a webisode of a net series, if you catch my meaning.

I was in a fighting style clothing such as what the Saxons wore around 1,000 A.D. (or common era), if my television history is correct. Standing out there by myself, with water, like canals, on either side, others approached me. Asked if I would take over. Don’t know what it was I was taking over. I guess I knew in my dream.

Anyway, I declined. They walked away. I basically stayed where I was. Twice more, they approached and I declined. The fourth time, I accepted. I said, okay, I’ll do it. I’ll lead.

Dream end.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

On the Oregon coast for today, Tuesday, August 17, 2021. Sunrise was at 6:20 AM. Sunset is at 8:09 PM.

Cool, here. Rained this morning. Ahhh. Rain and coffee. Is there a song for that? We expect a high of 64 degrees F. Brilliant, walking along in the cool, fresh air, going to a coffee shop in the early hours while the sun is still clearing its eyes behind a bank of clouds. Going into a funky coffee shop. Fantastic art by local artists on the walls. Fresh coffee. Fresh pastries. Fortunate to enjoy such things.

Back home, the woman staying in our house and taking care of the three amigos told us the smoke blew away after we left town. Yes, we’re taking it personally. The heat dome wandered on. Temperatures dropped by twenty degrees. Yes, we’re taking it personally.

Talking with friends about their lives, medicines, treatments, and ailments. Friend visited Pompei back in the mid seventies. I’m listening to the Bangles’ cover of “Hazy Shade of Winter” in my head. You know, “Time, time, time, see what you’ve done to me. While I looked around for my possibilities. I was so hard to please. Look around. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.” It’s another terrific Simon & Garfunkel composition. Paul and Art released the original in 1966. The Bangles did their bang up in 1987. Here I am, thirty plus years later, listening via technology’s assistance. Do you have a preference between these two versions, or another?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, get the vax. Here’s the music. Cheers

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It’s the Sun, Stupid

Okay, boys and girls. Gather ’round. Time for another rant.

An older friend related a story. He was assembled with his fishing club to hear a futurist speak. The first subject was global warming and climate change. The futurist announced, “It’s the sun, stupid.” That was the whole of the discussion about global warming and climate change.

Yes, it’s the sun, stupid. Has nothing to do with atmosphere. Nor methane gases being released. Conveyor belt effects on ocean currents. Nothing to do with anything humans are doing.

No, it’s the sun, stupid. Why is the planet warming? It’s the sun, stupid. The sun warms the planet. Well, should other aspects of that be addressed? Like, why exactly is the sun warming the planet so much? Why are ocean currents destabilizing? Is there any relationship with the jet stream changing, and all the extreme weather events, the growing, deepening droughts, the record, soaring, high temperatures? Or what of the wildfires and bushfires, like the ones that devastated Australia, the western U.S., and now parts of Europe? No? This is all just the sun?

These issues weren’t raised. While not a close friend, I’m aware of his political views. He pooh-poohs Black Lives Matter. Dismisses other social justice and equality issues. Laments the changes we’re seeing in our society. Wants to return to ‘the old values’. He’s older than me. Entrenched in his beliefs. Fortified by Fox News and other conservatives. I know these things from previous encounters. I know that he doesn’t think much of climate change or global warming. It’s the sun.

Stupid.

End of rant.

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Directions

Toilet’s clogged

And your mind is bummed

The cat’s been sick

And you’re feeling a little strung

Out

This is the way

Of life today

If it’s not one thing

It’s another damn thing

Taking you

Down

You try to cope

With a little caffeine

Maybe some wine

To help you make

The scene

But the way you see it

Everything is really fucked

Up

So you vow for change

And make it work

Then you clash

With some guy who’s an asshole jerk

And you decide the best you can do is stay

In

It’s like water

Going down the drain

All this stuff

You’re starting to feel

Insane

But what else are you going to

Do?

But that was then

And this is now

So you tell yourself

With another vow

I’m gonna make it like

Mary Tyler

Moore

And you start again

Like it’s fresh and new

As the little drops

Of morning dew

And you hope that someone

Doesn’t try to screw

You

It’s just a week

Another month

Another year

Of stumbling on

But one of these days

It’s gonna be

Different

You know that in your heart

Of hearts

Or maybe that’s gas

And you just need to fart

Who knows what the hell is really going

On

So you work and play

And live another day

Trying to change

But it’s the same old way

Even though you say

Again and again

Enough

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The Blackberry Dream

Blackberries. Love to eat them. They add sweet juiciness to everything. But they’re invasive. Will take over. And highly flammable. These traits make them threats to urban areas.

We soldier against a blackberry plant. Never with pesticides. Cut it back. Dig it up. Last night, they returned, in my dreams.

I was outside our house. The dream house wasn’t like our real house. The dream house had walls with garden beds all around the house, up against the foundation. I liked the arrangement and was walking through, admiring it, when I discovered blackberry bushes growing in it. Wasn’t the ordinary blackberry growth, though, no. These blackberry branches were several inches thick. They were pushing out the cut end and had not leaves, stems, branches, or berries. They had large thorns, though.

I was appalled by what I saw and headed back inside to talk with my wife and make plans. To return inside the house required me to pass through a cafeteria-style cafe. Make sense? No, but this is dream land. A young woman with her infant was sitting down at a table with three friend. She was complaining about the blackberry bushes’ sudden appearance at her house. I stopped to commiserate and flirt. Yes, I flirted with blackberry bush invasions as my baseline, trying to launch off that to impress her with my charm, knowledge, and wit. Such a dream flirt, I am. It fell completely flat.

I hurried on to my wife. When I arrived in our home, she greeted me with her discovery of the blackberry bushes. Demands of how did this happen and what are we going to do followed. I explained that I’d just learned of it. She cut me off to tell me about the unusual growth. Yeah, I know, I basically responded.

Meanwhile, two young nephews were eating at the table. They had blackberry bushes and were joking about the growths and laughing. I tried explaining our concerns about them but they paid no attention.

Dream end.

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Back to Normal Dreams

Yes, dreams were no longer short, sharp, and clear last night. Nor were they elaborate productions. Last night’s dominant dream — the one most remembered — was about command posts were I’d worked. I was in the military, the U.S. Air Force, for over twenty years. Worked in command and control. Fighter aircraft, nukes, space operations, military airlift, air training, special ops. Permanent and temporary command posts were worked in Asia, the far east, United States, Europe, and Africa.

I visited several of them as a young man in last night’s dream. While visiting military sites, I was dressed in civvies. Often accompanied by people who worked for me in different places (including some people who have passed away), I went around to those command posts, remembering what they were, discovering what they now were, dream-wise. Don’t know what they’re really like. Haven’t been to a command post since I retired.

It seemed like the dream was hammering the point, hey, things have changed. Forget the past. Move forward. A sledge hammer was being used to slam down roofing nails. I said to my dream psyche, yes, I get it, which seemed to satisfy it. Then, in my dream, I went to bed, and to sleep, only to then wake up in real life, a trippy transition.

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Dream and Dream Again

First dream was one of those short, sharp ones my mind has been recently providing.

My wife and I have a home. Two stories. Not a house but part of a building. The outer walls are open to the other places. We’re making improvements. I’m pleased with the progress. As I go about, though, I discover that a neighbor has installed a central vac system. There’s an open outlet on a kitchen wall that sucks in air whenever they turn their system on. Well, that’s not acceptable. Who wants a hole making news and sucking air out of your place? I was in a good mood though. Heard the neighbors and went over and informed them of the error.

Off I went again. That was all upstairs. I went downstairs. Confusion reigned of the Abbott & Costello ‘Who’s On First’ variety. Used to be that there was a room opposite the stairs when you went down. Thought it was the kitchen. But I just left the kitchen. Are there two flights of stairs? Did we used to have two flights of stairs or is this new? Do we have two kitchens. I darted about looking for answers that didn’t come before the brief dream ended.

Second dream was long, involved, and anxiety driven. Mild understatement.

Wife and I were vacationing. Our last day. We somehow get separated. Where is she? I’m looking everywhere. Panic is rising like a thermometer on a hot day. I can’t find her and we need to check out and catch our flight. With time passing, worse fears that something has happened to her is growing.

I hurry past buses disgorging tourists. Among them is Jennifer Aniston as Rachel from “Friends”. She’s in a dress with messages attached to her with safety pins. Don’t know what that’s about. Deciding it’s not related to me, I go on.

Stopping to tie my shoe, I set my glasses down. A young boy with his father pulls his suitcase into me and then picks up my glasses. The father picks up his son and apologizes to me. I accept those apologies but where are my glasses? I need those, thanks. The child doesn’t have them. I discover them sticking out of the father’s shirt pocket. “My son must have put them there,” the father exclaims, proud, amused, appalled, apologetic. No problem. I take my glasses and hasten on. I must find my wife.

Anxiety growing, so does confusion and bewilderment. Where is our hotel? What room is it? What day is it? I can’t remember these things. I can’t remember our airline or flight numbers, or what time we need to be there. I can’t find the tickets or room key. Can’t recall how to work the electronic device in my hand. Seems to be a phone but it looks weird to me. Can’t recall what email account I used. And can’t find my wife.

Somehow, I acquire all our bags. I’m carrying something in each hand, on each shoulder, and on my back. Then, there’s my wife. She’s been shopping. I’m outraged. “I’ve been looking for you. We need to go.” She’s vague, disconnected. She’s been right here. She doesn’t understand the problem.

Never mind, we need to go. I find our rental car. We’re in it and driving with other traffic but there are no lane markers or directions. The road is slick and smooth. There’s no traction. The car is sliding all over. I discern that there are some markers but it’s all faded away. Never mind, we’ll follow other cars.

We reach a parking garage and stop. It’s inside a building lined with stores. I’m thinking, now they’re putting stores in parking garages, too. I remember my email account and suddenly understand how to use the phone to retrieve my email but, oh, no, we forgot to check out of the hotel.

Dream ends.

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