Tag: food

A Twofer Dream

In the first dream, I was somewhere taking a test with others. We’d been together taking classes for a few days, so they were familiar, but they’re not anyone I know from life. All were male, but of various ages, physical builds, and races. Cluttered but comfortable, the classroom seemed like something from a form follows function design school. It had desks, windows, pale green walls, grey tile floors, and fluorescent lights.

The mood struck me as relaxed and comfortable. I didn’t feel any pressure or tension. Mustached and wearing glasses, the teacher was a short, white, overweight bald man in a white shirt and black suit with a black tie. He was a bit jocular.

For some reason, I began the test, was distracted, and came back to discover it was almost over. Although not distraught, I didn’t want to fail, but it seemed my fate was inexorable. Then I learned from watching another student that the test could be modified and administered orally. Hearing that, I pressed to have that done. I was confident in my knowledge and knew I could pass.

The administrator, a tall, white woman with blond hair in a bun, came in. She and the teacher discussed the option. It was agreed that would work for me. The oral test, of three questions, was given, and I passed in time to leave with the others.

The rest were in another room. They cheered me when I entered. Some joking followed, along with travel-plan conversations. They’d already eaten, but when they realized that I hadn’t, several got together to find me some food. I was telling them, “No, I don’t have time, I need to leave,” as I was putting up my coat. They brought me bags of food. I realized it was from McDonald’s. That amused me because it’s been over a decade since I’ve eaten at a McDonald’s.

They were excited to be leaving and eager to be home soon. One asked when I’d get home. I told them that I had to fly across the country, and that I’d be traveling for twelve to fourteen hours. Even as I answered, I reconsidered my response because I knew that weather delays were lurking.

The dream ended, and the next one began.

I was at a swimming pool. A few others were there. Again, these weren’t familiars from my life but people that I’d just met. I decided to use the diving board. After climbing up, I dove in. It was a decent dive but I felt dissatisfied, thinking, I can do better. So I went up again.

I began to dive, and then tried to reconsider, but it was too late. My last minute indecision affected my form. It was off as I dove this time. I didn’t have time to bring my arms together, and my body was falling over as I hit the water.

I knew it hadn’t been a good dive. What amazed me though, was how deep I’d gone. I couldn’t see because of bubbles surrounding me, but when I swam toward the surface, it took so long that I wondered if I’d ever reach it.

Breaking the surface, I looked around. The others were still swimming about. I waited for someone to say something about my horrible dive, but no one said anything. I waited for someone to mention how long I’d been under, but nobody said anything. Nobody had seemed to notice anything, or maybe there wasn’t anything to notice.

With those thoughts, and with me paddling around the pool toward the side to get out, the dream ended.

 

2

Heartbreak

I knew heartbreak yesterday when, like many people, I was afflicted by shopping cart envy.

Oh, don’t deny that you haven’t experienced it in one form or another. You know what I’m talking about. Some of you have felt it when you’ve seen a cart filled with riches that you don’t have the money to buy. Others experience it when, like me, they look into another’s carts and see the stuff that you don’t eat because it’s not healthy for you, but you want to eat it.

I am a chronic sufferer of shopping cart envy these days. When I was younger, I could eat anything. Eating anything caught up with me as my activities and metabolism slowed and the speed of my waist line’s expansion increased. Ice cream, pizzas, burgers, milk shakes, sandwiches, steaks, cake, pie, doughnuts? Pass them over. Anyone want that last cruller? I’ll eat it.

Yes, I went through that period when I said, “I’m an adult. If I want to eat ice cream for breakfast, I will.”

Then I became, “I am an adult. What responsible adult eats ice cream for breakfast?”

Waistlines change. Diets change. Attitudes change. Yesterday, in Costco, I saw another man’s cart. He had a case of beer, cheesecake, a large pizza, and other treasures. I can’t describe more, as my mind went blank at the dazzling sight. I think I wandered, for the next thing I know, I was standing in a pool of my own saliva in the bakery section with a box of cookies in my hands.

I wasn’t alone.

6

The Food Dream

I awoke hungry from last night’s dream.

It was a simple thing. My wife and I were with many other people. I knew them all, but she’s the only one I recognize from my actual life.

After walking on a cement walk, we entered a hall or reception area. I smelled food as soon as I walked in. Huge, the place bustled with people hurrying about. I realized most were servers. Long tables of food were set up along the walls on either side.

My wife and I were confused, asking one another, are we supposed to be here? Neither of us knew. We were looking around. The people we’d been with were not with us. We couldn’t see them. We saw a lot of other people, but not anyone we knew. I decided, “We must be in the wrong place. We took a wrong turn. We’re not supposed to be here.”

She agreed with me. We were turning to leave when a young serving woman in dress in black, with a white apron, approached and said, “Let me show you to your table.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” I said. “Is this a wedding or reception?”

The young woman looked confused. “No. This is where everyone eats.”

I was confused. “Who is everyone?”

“Everybody.”

“So this food is for everyone?”

“Yes.”

We went back and forth talking about it because I was sure there was something yet to be revealed about what included everybody, but it was a circular dialogue, with the answer being that we’re supposed to be here. The food was for us.

My wife and I looked at one another. “I guess we’re supposed to be here,” I said.

“You are,” the woman said. “Follow me to your table.”

We followed her but I remained highly doubtful. She took us to a table, one of those big, round ones, set with flatware and glasses for ten. A young man came up, asking if what we wanted to drink. He could get us anything that we wanted. We chose our drinks. He went off. We then realized it was a buffet and went off to one side. There was table after table with food parallel to the wall, with servers waiting behind the tables. I think I saw everything – turkeys, hams, steaks, and fish, along with bowls of vegetables, and potatoes prepared in different ways, like scalloped, boiled new with butter and parsley, and mashed. I saw an omelet bar, a huge salad bar, and pies, cakes, and cookies at a another table, and an ice cream sundae bar.

The sight of so much food floored me. I still didn’t think I was supposed to be there. I was certain there was a misunderstanding. Nevertheless, I ordered food, which is where the dream ended.

Writing this up today, I realize I’ve had similar dreams to this before. I derive a meaning from it that makes me grit my teeth, that I continue to doubt myself, believing that I’m not worthy, that I don’t belong to wherever I’m going.

4

Food Suggestions

Have you ever been reading something, and the characters are eating, and you find yourself wanting what they were eating?

In a book I was reading, the main character had oatmeal and avocado. Now I want to try oatmeal and avocado.

I also enjoyed the many times in the book where the hero showed up and handed others coffee, and they were all, “Coffee!” It was instant, but still.

2

A Scavenger Dream

I’d just begun new employment. I wasn’t the age I now am, but I was middle-aged and experienced in office environments.

The office building was one of those old San Mateo buildings used by start-ups. It was dark and cramped inside. I don’t know what the company was doing or what my position was.  Those things were being explained but a haze covers that part of the dream. Then my boss, a director, said, “Here comes the CEO.” All present, except for me, started gravitating around the CEO and his words.

Beginning to sort the situation, I discovered a huge collection of parts. Looking at them, I realized it was a stockroom of one part. I don’t know what the part was. Taking one apart, I found batteries inside. Then I found and read paperwork, and spoke to others. The gist of what I understood about the company was that it was struggling and going through a re-organization. Resources were scarce. Investigating, I learned that the parts were old stock. They’d set it aside to get rid of it. I decided I’d remove the batteries, test them to see if they worked, or recycle them. Then I go find something to do with the parts.

The CEO came along while I was in the middle of doing this. “What are you doing?” he asked. I explained my plan.

My initiative impressed him. “This is the kind of thing we need to be doing until we get on our feet,” he told the others in a little speech.

I shrugged all of that off and kept going about my business. In another room, I discovered food being thrown away. I couldn’t understand that at all. Like the parts and batteries, I decided that wasn’t appropriate, so I began going through the food, checking the dates and packaging, and organizing it by its food group. Others entered while I was doing that. Many asked, “What are you doing?”

I explained myself each time. People most often replied, “That’s too much work.”

I didn’t argue with them or explain myself. I was settling in and had the time. It was a unique time and exercise; once it was done, it wouldn’t be needed to be done again.

I knew that, so I kept at it. As I worked, the food, battery and parts disappeared, as though I was seeing it through a time-lapsed recording. The office became brighter.

In the end, I paused. I was holding an armful of food containers. Looking around, I thought, I’m scavenging energy for re-use.

Understanding that, I went on, and the dream ended.

0

The Food

With four cats, I have several bowls of kibble out and available, yet the cats will hunt me down to tell me, “I’m hungry. What do we have to eat?”

What they really mean is, “Give me a treat.”

0

420, Come & Gone

420 came and went. We had a lot of ads for marijuana conventions and sellers on the radio, but little else. Nobody had a parade around here. Hallmark didn’t put out any cards, and very few places had specials.

Which is really sad and short-sighted. Do restaurants not know that people smoking grass often want a munchie? They should have been all over that.

Don’t know where Hallmark Cards and the other card producers were for Weed Day, eituer. These companies have impressive holiday/recipient card matrixes. Need a card? What’s the occasion? How much do you want to spend? Do you want it to be funny or religious? Who is the recipient? Is it for you father, mother, sister, brother, uncle, aunt, or a step parent? Is it to a child? What age? The card is available!

But not for Weed Day. I couldn’t find a single card to send mom. As far as I know, only Denver really seemed to get behind it. Which is why I’m so ashamed of Ashland. You’d think this place, which celebrates beer, wine, and food, along with chocolate, movies, plays, and the outdoors, would have had some kind of celebratory marketing campaign.

Even as I write, though, I’m sure marketing mavericks across America are toking while thinking, “How did I miss that opportunity?” I’m sure they’ll fix it soon, I mean, look how quietly the SuperBowl started, and what it’s since become.

Oh, wow, now I see it: the Marijuana Bowl. The halftime show can be Jim Stafford singing “Wildwood Weed.”

3

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Ever get a craving, and the craving stays with you, getting larger and more intense, demanding that you address it? I have one of those going on right now. It’s all about cheeseburgers.

Love a good cheeseburger. The ones that Miss Lee made in Osan City were pretty good for a dollar, when you’ve been out on the town and are heading back to the base to crash. Better were the ones we had at the original Fuddruckers. My grandmother was visiting, and we decided to take her. Once we got there, we were a bit hesitant because the place looked like a dive. But Grandma insisted, so we ate there, even though the burgers were pricier than what we were used to. They were revealed to be amazing burgers.

Next on my list of burgers that I enjoyed was at a place called Clark’s Mountain Broiler in Mountain View, California. They were most excellent. At almost three hundred miles, it’s a little far to drive for one today. So is the In ‘n Out Burger in Medford. Besides that, the lines there are ridiculous. If I were to drive to get a burger, I’d probably go to the Next Level Burger in Bend. The drive is shorter, easier, and more relaxing than the one to Clarke’s. NLB’s burger is plant-based, but it’s astonishingly good, and their fries were awesome.

But I’m not driving for a burger. Louie’s in downtown Ashland has a good burger, as does Flips, both of which can be changed into a cheeseburger (it’s almost magic!). That craving, though, drives me to share a song that’s been rolling around in my head for the last few days.

Hit it, Jimmy.

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑