A Dream of Opportunity

Just a short synopsis of one dream from last night.

Another uplifting dream, I was traveling to Phoenix. I assumed Arizona in the dream but then realized that wasn’t right. This intermittently confused me as things progressed; if it wasn’t Phoenix, AZ, where was it? It wasn’t Phoenix, Oregon, either.

While traveling, I met a very wealthy man, a billionaire, in fact. White and charming, he was about my age, very approachable, and looked almost like Robert Wagner in his role on television as Jonathan Hart. A developer, he was planning changes to Phoenix, and was sharing his ideas with me. Those ideas excited me. When I reached Phoenix, he offered to put me up in his suite. When I entered it, I wasn’t impressed with its size. It was a luxurious place, but I was underwhelmed. Then I realized that I had my own suite within his complex of suites. It was about the same size as his suite. Further, I’d only been in one section; his suite was about three times my original impression.

For some reason, based on things he was saying, I kept trying to associate him with Williams Grand Prix Engineering, a Formula 1 focused outfit. Then, as I checked out the suite I was offered, I realized the color scheme was a rich purple and green, not the colors I associate with Williams Grand Prix Engineering. Then again, the colors I was associating with them, blue, gold, and white, were actually the colors used when Rothmans (a defunct British tobacco company) sponsored Williams in F1 for just a few years in the 1990s.

Getting ready to meet with friends, I was discussing my plans to return home after my Phoenix visit with him. He asked where I was going, and after I replied, he said, “Oh, I’m going there, too. You can travel with me.” After a little back and forth, I realized he meant that he was traveling on a private jet and was offering me a free flight. Pleased, excited, and a little flattered, I accepted. Meeting with friends, I told them about it. I had a sense then that some tremendous opportunity was suddenly available.

Dream end.

Friday’s Theme Music

There I was in my Jaguar. A gleaming dark blue roadster, the top was up. Looked like a series one. Not sure, because it was part of the dreamscape. The rest of the dream included a sequence in which a woman and I trick one another into not marrying, then realizing at the end that each had the same goal in mind — not to marry the other — and agreed it was for the best.

After that dream, today’s song choice began playing in my mind. “Young Turks” by Rod Stewart was released in 1981. The sound had shifted from previous Stewart offerings as a solo act and as part of a band, but it worked. Although it peaked at number five in the U.S., it hit number one in other places, and generally charted well around the world. Bottom lining it, the song is pretty well known among people of a certain age.

Hope you enjoy it. Stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Cheers

The Medicine Woman Dream

Had multiple dreams last night. One had me walking toward a street with an axe in my hand. I picked up a flat rock to sharpen the blade as I walked. Then I thought, “I shouldn’t be walking down the street with an axe in my hand. People might get the wrong idea.” Going t a cafe, I visited with a friend working there. She flirted me, calling out, “Oh, my boyfriend’s here. I’m gonna go on break now.” I flirted back but said, “I’m not here as your boyfriend, though. I’m here to give you my axe.” She responded, “So you’re here in an official capacity,” a comment that puzzled me. But I left the axe with her and somehow ended up with a hand gun.

Now I’m walking down the street with a hand gun, thinking, “I probably shouldn’t be walking down the street with a gun like this. Yeah, it’s legal, but is it any better than the axe?” I stuck the gun into a pocket, then worried about shooting myself by accident. I kept trying to think of a safe way to carry my gun. The dream ended as I was trying different ways.

The dream which intrigued me most was very brief. A knock came to my door. Opening it, I discovered a small but perfect elderly woman on the other side. Though elderly, she was very straight, but when I say, ‘small’, she was one to two feet tall. Everything was in perfect proportion on her, though.

She said in an accent that I couldn’t place, “Michael, I’m here to give you your medicine.” I replied, “Oh, okay, good.” She then said something else. I answered, “I have no idea what you just said.” She gestured and said, “Done.”

That was the whole thing.

The Indy Dream

Dreamed last night about me and the Indy 500. The Indianopolis 500 is an annual auto race pitting 33 drivers in fast, purpose-built speed machines. In my dream, I was a last minute addition, and was attempting to qualify. A woman was sponsoring me, and I think she also owned the car. All I recall of the car is that it was low, shiny, and purple. It wasn’t today’s specs, but more aligned with the specs and designs of the 1970s, i.e., the McLaren and Eagle.

I got in, and then was out, learning that I’d qualified…dead last. The race was due to start. There was a practice session. I went out again and was faster and in better control, I learned, but had been hampered by not wearing my seat belts. I was the only person aware of that. Next, I was going out and would follow another driver — Juan Pablo Montoya — around the track to become more comfortable with the lines. Then I’d be in the race. I felt good about it all, excited and full of anticipation.

That’s where it ended.

The dream ended then because a cat awoke me. He was preparing to upchuck on the bed beside my head. Reacting but half asleep, I pushed him off the bed. I then dreamed of a flying cat. It was like Rocky the Flying Squirrel, except it was my long-haired black and white big boi, Tucker, flying around.

Dreams. Go figure.

A Dream Snippet

I’ve been having many dreams each night. A short source yield three to six dreams a night, so I’m average. Maybe it seems like more because they’re vivid and intense, and I remember a lot of them — or so it seems. Remembering dreams always brings a challenge. Trying to remember them usually causes me to remember more of them, but then I get into this cycle of dreaming more, remembering more, dreaming more, until it seems like I’m taking a lot of conscious time thinking about the dreams. As with everything, a balance must be found and maintained.

I’m just going to highlight a series of scenes from one dream last night. Friends and I had gone to a club. I wasn’t in the military but many military peers were in the dream. They weren’t in the military any longer, either.

We were talking about DJs when we arrived. I’d heard one on the way while in my car, and thought he was great. I learned that he was going to be at the club. That excited me. I wanted to meet and speak with him, if I could. It was late in the afternoon/early in the evening. The club had only opened a short while before. Staff was still setting up. My friends and I were some of the first customers. As we walked about looking for a table, I heard the DJ’s voice. Saying, “Hey, that’s him,” I went to find him.

He and I almost ran into one another, earning me a resentful look from him. I apologized to him but he blew me off. Well, okay. Shrugging that away, I returned to my friends, who had now selected a table. A waitress came around with typewritten menus. Although there were many pages, there wasn’t much on them as offering, one or two items per page, and nothing that called to me. I thought I’d just order an appetizer and a beer.

Asking about what beer was available, I discovered that a young Penny Marshall was my server. My question about what beer was available seemed to upset her. As I preferred dark beers, I asked her what darks were available. Looking sour, she responded, “I’ll check.” Then she turned to take others’ orders.

She suddenly reverted her attention to me. “We have some new Sam Adams in.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll take a Sam Adams Octoberfest, if you have that.”

Penny looked upset again. Her companion — a young Cindy Williams — said to Penny soto voce, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I was like, WTH? Why is Penny so upset? My friends and I joked about it after she left the table.

Some conversations took place about different topics. Then I was watching some people. Some were previous military I worked with. They were out now. Some were belligerent toward one another. Turning to comment to my friends, I discovered that I was alone at the table. There was silverware, and my beer, but there were gone.

Picking up the silverware and beer, I walked around. Finding that they moved to another table angered me. I tossed the silverware onto the table. It slide across and fell on the floor. That caught their attention. I then put my beer down and set six dollars on the table to pay for it. They were asking, “Something wrong?”

I replied, “Yeah, thanks for telling me you were moving. I appreciate it. I turned around and you were all gone. How did you expect that to make me feel?”

They were sort of chuckling and stammering apologies about pulling a bad prank, but I walked out, deciding that I didn’t need friends like them.

Outside, I entered my car. It was a cool, sunny evening, still early, Putting the top down, I took a drive, enjoying myself as the air flowed over me.

A Writing Dream

First, my wife and I were wrestling in bed, and then playing with a kitten. Yeah, that’s all there was.

Next, I’m at work. It’s clear that I’ve returned to work. Although it’s not anywhere recognizable, many people were welcoming me back, and my assigned work space was one I’d previously used. My old passcode also worked: 3871. Well, great, cool!

I was also given a new location to work. I went over and checked it out. As I was, a man came by. I recognized him as a great writer. He stopped to look at what was on my screen. Then he moved on without saying a word.

His presence excited me. I returned to my original work station, grabbed that computer and brought it to my new location. The great writer was still ambling about, looking at everyone’s screen. I put my latest up, then stood back, hoping he’d come by and give me some encouragement.

I laughed after I awoke and thought about; just hanging around, waiting for the great writer to come by.

A Brief Dream Trio

Three short dream fragments stayed in the mental coil this morning.

Recollection of the first is short: my wife found something on the floor. Holding it up, she realized it was a cat’s tooth. We went to check the cats. Dream end.

A little longer one is up next. I was at a large outside gathering. We were seated at picnic tables. Weirdly, we were baking pizzas on the picnic tables. I called for one, put it behind me, and baked it for a while. When it was ready, I got some for myself and passed some to others. Then I began baking another, and forgot about it. When I remembered it, I turned to get it. It was dark but still edible. A man said, “You have a pizza baking there behind you?” I nodded. He said, “Why didn’t you say something? Some of us may have wanted some.” I protested, “I did,” but he turned away.

A former commander was then on as guest speaker. While he was talking, I walked around, quietly cleaning up. After a period, I needed a restroom. I went to the first one I found. Thinking it was available, I unzipped and pulled out my pecker. But, there was someone in there and the bathroom had no walls. A little kid saw me and told his parents, “I saw his penis dangling.” I went on to another restroom.

In the third short dream, I was coaching a team. I don’t know what sport. Our record was 16-8. A woman asked about it. I said, “We have eight losses and sixteen wins.” An older man (who reminded me of Malcolm McDowell) said, “Don’t say that. Always say the wins first. Always accent the positive by putting it first. You have sixteen wins and eight losses.

Dream end.

Such Screwy Dreams

My dreams left me laughing and shaking my head. One involved food and family; the second was about military and ID (again) (but with changes).

In the first, my stepfather was there. ‘He and I didn’t get along’ is a loaded understatement. He was a large part of the unhappiest part of my life.

I knew that history in my dream, and even wondered, what’s he doing here. But I tried making nice, and he was being nice. My wife was there (she’d never met him), along with a couple of my sisters, and my mother.

First, weirdly, we — my wife and I — set up a television connection with the net to watch porn. Really. The plan wasn’t mine in the dream, and left me scratching my head, but I did as told. Then, lo, my stepfather and family sat down and turned on that porn. They were all laughing, asking, what’s that?

It was a flat screen TV. Distracting them, I spun it around so they couldn’t see the screw. Then I ran to the bedroom. Lifting the bedskirt, I located switches to change what they could see on the television. Then I dashed back, and turned the television back to them.

As they watched television, my wife and I prepared food for ourselves in the other room. I was having a Philly cheese steak sandwich; she was having a veggie version.

We went outside to eat. The food was on a plate. The house was on a busy corner. Some people passing asked if they could have a sandwich, offering to pay for it. My wife said, “Yes,” while I was like, “What? Don’t we need permits?” She was certain that we didn’t. Well, my wife and I started making and selling the sandwiches. Sales were great. We were happy, and sold them until we ran out of supplies.

The dream ended as my wife laughed, counted cash, and joked about doing it again.

The next dream took on a military spin. We wife and I were in temporary quarters, leaving a base. I think we may have been leaving the military. Well, we’re in bed when the door bangs open. Two guys walk in. I leap out of bed and rush across the room to confront them. I’m not big; they’re a good six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier. But this is the military and I’m a senior NCO, and that’s the power I’m using. I brace them, telling them that this is my room and they have no business being there. They’re disagreeing, saying the rules changed. I haven’t heard about changes, so I don’t give a shit, you know?

But I tell my wife what they told me, that there’s been unspecified changes that shifts our roles. Then I go out to learn more. After a few minutes, I return and tell her, I’ve confirmed what I was told, that it’s changed. Sitting down, we discuss the changes and agree that they were overdue, but that they don’t really matter, because we were done, suggesting we were giving up our military ID cards.

Then we leave with our baggage, and the dream ends.

In both dreams, I notice that it’s about changes. In the first, my relationship with my stepfather changed. Then my wife and I were making food for ourselves, but changed and started making and selling food. In the military dream, of course, there were changes that seem to reference the structure and our roles.

Then again, my dreams are often about change these days.

A Mundane Work Dream

In several ways, I deem this one of the strangest dreams I’ve recently experienced. It was literally like I was at work. My team were all there, working for me as in the early days of this century. Like that time, I was explaining some of the things I did and how it was done, instructing others to reduce mystery and increase illumination.

Nothing special. Then I was at home with my wife. I found three areas which were partially repaired. That is, the initial repairs were done, but they needed to be finished. All were regarding the walls where some damages had been inflicted. I called it out to her, asking, “What are we going to do about this? We can’t just leave this like this.”

Next, she and I were cleaning. She vacuumed the carpet with our Hoover upgright while I vacuumed the furniture with the central vac’s brush.

Then, I’d returned to work. It was a new location and I’d forgotten my coffee cup. Oh, no, I didn’t have a coffee cup! What shall I do? It was a joke with me and all my co-workers. I said, “Well, I’ll just use a foam cup (gasp, shudder), or paper, or borrow a cup, or buy a new one.” I set about doing that as a side project while greeting co-workers.

The biggest shock arrived. Lt/Capt Z, who I’d worked with for four years in the military in Germany arrived. He was completely as he was then, in his flight suit, sleeves rolled up. We each asked the other, “What’re you doing here?” We laughed and shook hands, happy to see one another.

Dream end.

I think this dream germinated with nostalgia, a sort of look back by my subconscious to more pleasant and predictable times. The wall repairs section with my wife was interesting. Looks like something is repaired but not finished. Although, the idea next that we’re, ‘cleaning up’ but going about it differently, was striking.

A Long Dream

A long dream, but not much happening.

I dream of food often, as often as cars, perhaps. Food was heavily featured in this one.

I was outside on grass but under an enormous pavilion. A celebration was planned. I showed up early to help with setup. It unfolded with lazy grace. First, a group of us put out tables and chairs. People arrived with food. Some are friends, but many are strangers. I tell them where to put their food. It’s a wonderful, relaxed scene.

At last, everyone is there and we’re starting. People wander around tables of food, checking the offerings and asking where they can find specifiic food. There’s a barbecue grill setup. Others are trying to light it but can’t. I show them how to do it. A little later, another friend is trying to light the grill. He’s doing it wrong. I’m about to explain how to light it when he figures it out and lights it. I find a plate of food and a place to sit.

Strange to have such a long, relaxed dream, like a day out of life, where we’re all just having a good time, being together. Perhaps it’s a manifestation by my subconscious of being out and socializing during this pandemic era. Or, maybe my mind is having a small celebration in honor of Joe Biden’s victory, and the changes that means.

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