Tag: concerns

The Hair Dream

I was the new guy in a small group of males. Basically smartasses and lower class with leanings toward crime and goofing off, I don’t know how I met them but was hanging around with them. They kept discounting me and making fun of me. I decided changes were needed and thought the way to do that was with my hair. So off I went to get dreadlocks.

A stylist eagerly did as I asked. I emerged with long black dreadlocks when I’d had brown hair before, with the crown being literally a crown of short dreads.

I went back and joined the group at a short track where a car race was scheduled to take place. All were surprised and taken back. One or two made fun of me for it. Then we split up. Most headed in to watch the race but one other and I stayed back, sort of watching the group’s belongings in a small corner by a counter. Catching my image in a mirror, I was horrified. “I look terrible,” I said. “Ridiculous. What was I thinking?”

The other guy, a short, white almost bald fellow said, “Well, I admire what you did. Took balls. I respect that.”

“Really? But it looks like crap.”

“Yes, but you did something.”

I met a woman who wanted to go into the track but wasn’t certain how to go about it. I asked where she wanted to go in there. “By turn two,” she answered. “Come on,” I said, “I’ll take you there.”

I took her in through the crowd. As I did, a young black woman paused to tell me with a wide smile, “I really like your hair.”

“Thanks,” I answered, pleased, amused. Showing the woman to turn two, I moved back through the crowd to the outside. Another young black woman accosted me, saying, “Nice hair.”

I encountered a white female friend as I left the race track. “What did you do to your hair?” she asked.

“I know,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m going to see if it can be fixed.” But I was thinking, it’ll probably need to be cut. Then it’ll take a long time to grow back. While this went through my head, a young black woman said, “I’m sorry but I overheard what you said. I hope you don’t change your hair. I think it looks really good on you.”

Dream end.

1

Two Dreams to Mention

In the first dream, I was traveling with friends and my wife. A small group, I don’t know the travel’s purpose nor the means. At one point, we encountered a storm. Seeking refuge, we found a house. The house unlocked. We went inside. It was solid, warm and comfortable, but completely unfurnished. There was one book in there. A soft-cover trade book, it was open to a page.

We decided we’d stay there and outwait the storm. Meanwhile, we each went by and checked out the book. I don’t recall any name, title, or colors associated with it. But when we each read the book, we discovered it was different for each of us. I thought it was a thriller/adventure. Someone else thought it was a cookbook. Another deemed it a book of poetry. I read through the book quickly but when I came back to look at it again, it was a different book. It looked exactly as it had and was still open to a page, but its contents were completely different.

We’d stayed in the house longer than planned. Although no food was there, we didn’t get hungry. In fact, we were all in very good moods. Despite the lack of furniture, we were well rested. But we decided to move on if the weather was good. The weather was good. After going out and looking around, I realized we were in a different location. Another noticed that the season was changed. Trying to figure out what was going on, we went back into the house. Through testing and talking, we concluded that the house was a time machine and also moved through space. (Yes, like Doctor Who‘s TARDIS, except this was a house, not a phone box.)

A young couple, people we didn’t know, arrived. Like us, they were taking refuge from a storm, We decided not to tell them what we’d learned, to see what they discovered on their own. Then we’d compare notes.

Dream end.

In the second dream, my wife and I were sitting at a small metal table by the side of a road. Another woman was with us. We were chatting. The table was right off the road’s shoulder and the road was lousy with traffic. At one point, my wife saw a big box truck coming. As it went by, she said, “Oh, there’s the artichoke man. I want to catch him and tell him something.”

Leaping up, she ran after the truck. I was wondering if she caught him and what she was telling him, when a second artichoke truck, identical to the first, roared up the road. This was on a hill and a tight curve. He was going way too fast. The driver slammed on his brakes. He went into a skid and fishtailed hard into a hillside. My wife’s body went flying through the air. She landed on some rocks on her back, her head dangling backwards, unmoving.

I leaped up. A car went by, down the hill, oblivious to the scene. Shouting at the person at the table, “Call 911, call 911,” I looked up the hill. People were running to help the truck driver and another car involved in the accident. I sprinted toward my wife, thinking, I’ll check for her pulse and look for breathing, but I don’t think I should move her.

Dream end.

4

The Studebaker Dream

Dream fade in. I’m a young adult. I’m with a real-life friend who passed away a few years ago. He’s charging me to take care of his care for him. “Drive it over to the condo and put it in the parking garage,” he tells me.

The car is a silver 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk in pristine condition. I agree to do as he asks. He and I are on vacation together, along with our extended families. I drive the Studebaker over and park it in the garage. I can see it from the rented, shared condo. The condo is enormous. The living room/dining room/kitchen combo’s entire western side is open to the sun and surf. Yes, surf, because it’s located right above a long, flat beach. Wonderful sunshine and blue sky are visible outside.

The condo is busy with people coming and going, talking, making plans. All of the people are familiar t me. Many are real life friends and relatives.

I’m part of the conversations and activities about our plans. But I’m also distracted, concerned about the Studebaker. Word comes to me that it needs to be moved to let some big truck by. I don’t want to go over there to move it. But somehow I have a black, wireless remote control. Using it, I start the car, back it up, let the truck by, and then park the car again. I end up doing this same maneuver three more times. In parallel, I discover that the remote works on other cars as well. I keep moving cars for people using the remote.

Then we’re all dashing around, doing things, collecting groceries, making meals, eating. As that happens, I discover that all of the Studebaker’s windows are shattered. The car is also riddle with dents and scratches. Non-plussed, I wonder aloud, what the hell happened? I’m concerned about what my friend will say about his car’s condition.

While I’m still fretting, we all go outside to enjoy the sunny beach and ocean. It’s wonderful out there. Then, shallow, long waves enter. News reaches us that there’s a storm far offshore driving these waves. Sunshine glitters along the waves. We talk about what a powerful storm that must be.

I return to the condo for something. When I’m in there, I hear shouting from outside. Turning, I see a long, flat, white wave race up the beach. It’s not deep or thunderous but it was wholly unexpected by everyone. Watching, I see that no one is hurt. Fast moving, the water only reaches most people’s knees.

Although the condo is above the beach, the wave rushes into the condo. It carries me, upright, the condo’s length. I laugh, enjoying the experience. Looking across at the parking garage, I realize that it’s gone, along with all of the cars which were parked in it. I’m amazed but relieved; I can’t be blamed for my friend’s car damage now.

The water swirls around inside the condo. I wish for a towel. Then I realize, damn, I left it on the condo floor. It’s underwater now.

I think, I should have picked up a towel when I saw the wave coming.

Dream end.

A note: the man who passed away shared my first name, Michael. The car in the dream was made the year that I was born, 1956. Coincidence? Who knows?

0

The Case of the Snowy Footprints

I looked out the front door windows. It’s a daily thing, glancing out when I first leave the bedroom, on alert for zombies, mushroom clouds, or cats waiting to come in. What I saw locked me in the space.

Footprints in the snow came up the walk to the porch.

I’d checked the area around three AM. I’d been up – cat business – and fetched a glass of water. Since I was in the area, I looked out. No footprints marred the walk’s snow, then. Not even animal prints.

Putting on shoes and picking up my phone, I went out to ensure nothing on the porch was gone. Two chairs and a glider are out there. But thieves have been going around stealing whatever is available. The footprints were photographed. One compared to my foot, so I’d guess it’s a men’s 10 ½. The other was smaller.

I traced the steps to the garage. They’d followed my tire tracks up to the garage and then went up the walk.

Could be I’m paranoid. Maybe totally innocuous. Our security camera died last year.

Time to buy a new one.

3

A Cat Dream

My wife and I were traveling in the gray Toyopet Publica which we had during our Okinawa residence back in the early 1980s. Two cats, Boo and Quinn (deceased in real life in the last two years) accompanied us. A whim took us on a visit to a ramshackle and primitive roadside tourist trap. Small cabins painted light blue with dark blue trim pressed in alongside a small store, tiny café with deck, and peeling white picnic tables and a zoo.  

Boo and Quinn were acting strange, pulling my attention to them. I was worried about where they were and what was going to happen to them. I kept mentioning this to my wife. Meanwhile, she was walking around, trying to see things.

I ended up going to the end of the main building. Bushes to the left over remnants of a cinder block wall pinched the path into a narrow passage at that point. As I checked on the cats, I heard noises. Turning, I discovered a large horned animal on the path back by the building. It seemed to be having a fit but moving our way. I grabbed my wife, who hadn’t noticed, and said, “Come on, we need to move.” Then I took her around to the café deck. I find us seats but many people were using the ramp beside us and kept bumping into me. Annoyed, I decided to move. A man beside me said, “Thank you to the man with the green hat on for moving.” I was wearing my green Tilly hat so I knew he meant me. I didn’t know if he was being sarcastic but went on.

Searching for my cats in different places, I encountered a wild little red cat throwing a fit. I realized that it was located where the other animal was having a fit and guessed there might be something wrong with the air there or something. The increased my concern for my cats. I sped up my search and found the two. Both were almost comatose. I took them back to the car and revived them, and then called to my wife to leave.

0

Overheard

The two women leaned across the small round table and touched hands. The elderly woman said with large eyes deep with concern, “I hope this doesn’t bother you, but may I ask, are you an atheist?”

The younger woman smiled. “No, I’m not an atheist.”

“Oh, good, but you don’t go to church.”

“No, I don’t go to church.”

“But you have been baptized.”

“Yes, I am baptized.”

The elderly woman patted the other’s hand. “Oh, good, that makes my heart feel so much better.”

0

The Sister Dream

Wasn’t sure what to call this dream but the sister aspect spoke to me more in reflection.

First, it was me as a younger man with a car I once owned, a silver 1985 Mazda RX-7 SE that I bought used in California in 1991. I had parked it at a familiar convenience store in West Virginia, where I was visiting. Dream perspective changed: I looked at the parking lot with the car parked and me walking away from it, toward the store, as it could be viewed from the store’s security camera.

Another car drove up and parked on top of my car. This car was an old maroon Datsun sedan. Beater was an apt description. A young woman drove with another young woman as passenger. Both were white. They were laughing, laughing at her parking effort, laughing at being on top of my car, laughing at wrecking my car.

I stormed over there and shouted at her in my coldest, angriest voice. I told her that I owned her. I would see her in jail. Contempt crackled through every syllable. The driver sat in the car, holding the steering wheel, and crying. Her friend tried to talk me into being more compassionate, but I remained relentless. I called the police.

Scene change. I was driving the same car. A young white man drove an old white car into the side of my car.

I was livid and incredulous, thinking, the same car has been hit twice. I stalked to the offending white car, yelling at the driver. My brother-in-law showed up. He told me he’d take care of it because the driver was his son.

I was stunned. That was his son? I didn’t recognize him. My BIL went on, “Your sister just inherited some money. It should cover the damage. I’ll sign the check over to you.” He took out yellowed parchment paper and showed me the check. It was for $950. “Will that cover it?” he asked. Yes, I replied.

My BIL signed the check and then used scissor and cut it away from the rest of the document. As this happened, I wondered, who die? Who did my sister inherit this from? I saw that the document was an itemized list of household objects in large letters.

I took the check and began crying. I stood in my dream crying my eyes out. Then I decided to go see my sister.

I found my sister at home. She told me she needed a ride to get somewhere. I told her that I would give her the ride. I took her someplace. A party seemed to be going on. After dropping her off, I returned home. I awoke later in a panic because I thought I’d overslept and needed to pick up my sister and bring her home. As I rushed about, scrambling to leave, another sister asked where I was going. I told her I was going to pick up S. She replied, “She’s already home. Someone else gave her a ride.” I went to find my sister and confirm she was there. On the way, I stopped and peed in the bathroom. Then I looked in a bedroom and saw my sister asleep in a bed.

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