A Traveling Dream – with Pie!
I was packing all my personal goods up. Part of that was a lot of money, which I and arranged in boxes, cases, bags, and scheduled it to be picked up and taken east.
That done, I sought transportation for myself. I found a bus and bought tickets. Inside were blue seats. I found an open seat and sat. The bus’s seating reminded me more of a widebody jet, except, I saw, it was arranged in a star pattern. Either way, I thought it unusual for a bus and too big.
A crotchety woman was managing the passengers. She announced our itinerary. We were in Maine, heading for New York!
That was wrong! I was supposed to be on the west coast, going east. That’s where I packed my stuff.
Now I worried about my stuff. Had I sent it in the wrong direction?
Then I worried about all that money I’d packed away, fretting that somebody might steal it. I shouldn’t have left it like that, and I should have brought more with me.
A young dark-haired woman in red clothing was in the seat next to me. I recognized her but she apparently didn’t remember me. I played a sly little game, ‘guessing’ things about her because I knew her. She was amazed by how I correctly guessed.
They announced we were in New York and would have a rest stop. The crotchety woman came around serving us slices of pie. I took two pieces and passed them on to other passengers, then ate the third piece. It seemed like some kind of runny custard pie. I didn’t care much for the filling so I only ate the crust.
We arrived at our destination. I don’t know where it was but began looking for my stuff, anxious about how much of it I’d find there. Several of my bags were discovered. Inside them were bundles of cash. I gave some to another traveler because they needed help.
The dream ended as I was walking toward a building, finding and picking up more of my bags.
So Easy
This is such an easy question to answer. I wish I could write more every day. Yes, fill my cup with coffee and let me write without end. I’m talking about fiction writing. Novels and such. I really enjoy writing fiction.
I also wish I could eat more every day. I’m limited in my eating by obscure factors like sodium in foods, gaining weight, and staying healthy. So I’m restricted in how much I can eat every day. It’s a shame, too, because there are many foods which I really enjoy and would like to eat more every day. Like, right now, I could really go for a piece of pie. Blueberry. With ice cream.
Of course, I’d also like to socialize more every day. I’m writing, and that’s not a social activity, speaking for myself, of course, so that limits how much time I have to socialize. A few more hours of socializing every day would be good for me, I think. So I wish that I could socialize more every day.
Spending more time reading is also something I’d wish to be able to do more every day. I love reading, and there are so many awesome writers out there. So many great novels, books, essays, and articles to read. While I’m at it, I also wish to study more every day. I would love to be able to spend time deeply studying art, architecture, and history, along with literature and quantum mechanics.
Then again, if I could, I wish I could spend more time with my wife every day. She’s an intelligent person and a lot of fun.
Another wish I’d have is to be able to visit with my family more every day. They live in other parts of the country, so it takes time and money to visit them, and doing so interrupts my other wishes. But if we had a teleporter, I could probably make it work.
While I’m thinking about it, I also wish I could travel more. I’ve done some traveling, mostly around the United States, Far East, some northern Africa, and Europe. I’ve rarely been south of the equator, so I’d like to visit ruins and cultures in the southern latitutes. I wish I could travel more every day and go to places like Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, and Antarctica. I’ve also always wanted to visit Sri Lanka.
I also wish I could time travel more every day. I’ve learned through hard experience that time travel has a lot of perks but man, when you screw it up, it’s downright hard to fix. There’s a lot of things I need to apologize to the world about which has happened because of my botched time traveling. I feel really guilty about it, too, but if I can just find the time — ha, sorry about that, that pun wasn’t planned — I wish I could time travel more every day.
Since I’m confessing, I’d also wish to be able to see the future more every day. You know, predict things. But time travel has screwed that up, too, as has my dimension clones. If it wasn’t for them bouncing between dimensions, I’d have a much better life and would be way better at seeing the future. I think we all would. But, anyway…
Other than that brief list, there’s nothing I wish to do more every day. Oh, except exercise. And paint. I painted a great deal when I was young but not so much as an adult. I wish I could paint more every day.
Oh, and go fishing.
Other than those few things, there’s nothing.
Oh, except sleeping. I really wish I could sleep more every day.
But that’s all.
Except, I wish I could just relax and do nothing more every day. Because I really am lazy at heart.
And that’s it. There is no more.
Well, except for a few DIY projects around the house. I wish I had time to do more DIY every day.
And that’s all.
I think.
Playin’ Favorites
I so dislike questions about my favorite. I don’t care about the object: book, pie, food, beer, wine, music, movie…you get it. I don’t declare absolute favorites. I can’t speak for others but IMO, my favorites often slide along a spectrum that’s driven by mood and, or, circumstances. Sometimes memories float up and a song comes on, such as Tom Petty, “Running Down A Dream”, and I think, yes, this is my favorite song. But in another place and time, another song, such as “Us and Them” by Pink Floyd, or “Zombie” by The Cranberries or “Get It On”, is played and it strikes the note for the moment, finding a bit of sympatico with my soul.
I swing the same way with food and beverages. While I have regulars I turn to, they’re not necessarily the favorite. Same with movies — “Unforgiven”, “Bladerunner”, “This Is Spinal Tap”, “Men In Black” — and books — “Catch 22”, “Catcher In the Rye”, “Lincoln in the Bardo”, or series like the Murder Bots or Chronicles of Amber. Novels…authors…genres…
If I have an absolute favorite in anything, it’s
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
I think one thing that can help foster strong long-term relationships is understanding the others’ food preferences and habits, and ensuring they’re taken into consideration. Like, knowing she enjoys the Outshine Tangerine bars, and letting her have four instead of dividing the box equally. Or, for example, knowing that I like pie, and bringing me home a piece just to surprise me.
Tuesday’s Theme Music
It’s 3.14.23. Let’s celebrate with a little pie. My favorite is blueberry. How ’bout you? Reminds me of the wonderful blueberry tarts I used to buy at The American Bakery on Okinawa.
This is Tuesday. Our whiff of spring the last few days was wonderful but today demonstrates they were interludes. Yesterday only reached the mid-fifties, ten degrees short of forecasted high. Rain started during the night, intensifying this morning. With thermometers reading in the low thirties, rain progressed to slush. Heavy flakes finally showed up. Accumulation is beginning. Still, a wet snow, and the temps are expected to snake a little higher by this afternoon. It’s pretty, most exclaim, along with surprise, because it’s been so nice the last several days. It looks like mid-December out there in Ashlandia.
Sunshine on the scene was limited by the situation but was still noted at 7:25 this AM. 7:16 PM will see sunset.
I must confess, I’ve been spoiling one of my cats. He’s an old fellow now. Tucker was one of those who showed up at the door in hungry, desperate circumstances. We took him in, nursed him back to good health, searched for his people. No one ever claimed him. Now he’s my oldest. He loves chicken and luncheon meat. I’d indulged him a few times. Now he’s trained me. I’m buying lunch meat just for him.
I typically buy sandwiches and don’t keep lunch meat in the house. My wife made something with cranberry sauce and suggested I pick up turkey so I can use up the cranberry. I bought the hormone free turkey, along with provolone cheese and dark rye bread. Rye is my second favorite bread.
The sandwiches were great but of course the Tucker toll was paid. I can’t resist. When he sees me with chicken or lunch meat, his demeanor becomes instantly alert, eyes wide and shiny, whiskers spread in hope, ears spearing the sky with their straight up attention. If I start eating without first sharing with him, he steps closer and releases a plaintive wail. I laugh and surrender. Short story made long, I need to pick up more lunch meat.
Today’s music is by Tame Impala. The Neurons suggested this song after they played “That Was Yesterday”, a 1985 song by Foreigner, in the morning mental music stream. While I was thinking about the Foreigner song and contemplating my overnight dreams, The Neurons delivered “Lost in Yesterday” (2020) by Tame Impala. I knew of Tame Impala before this song, but a friend’s daughter introduced me to this particular song. Following her suggestion, I sought the music video later and enjoyed it, as she thought I would. It’s subtle and not subtle. Hope you enjoy it.
Yo, be positive. I have coffee in me, and the positive level is pretty high. Here’s Tame Impala with the music. Cheers
Stalemate
It’s a classic conundrum: who will eat the last piece of blueberry pie? Everyone is being polite, telling others to take it. It’s been over twelve hours.
How much longer will the stalemate last?
A Pie Dream
I was younger than my present age, a spitting image of someone who I once was, and I had an unlimited number of pies. I was outside. People, beginning with my wife, came up to me. I would ask, “Do you want a pie?” They’d always reply, “What kind of pie,” and I would answer with a jovial sense, “I can give you any kind of pie that you want. Berry, apple, peach, cherry…I have them all.”
Now for the weird part.
Whenever they agreed to take a pie, I would pull it out to give to them and then say, “Wait. You’re missing something.” This always confused them. I would then go to where two white tubes hung down from the sky and say, “Here, I’ll put it in your pie.” They’d ask, “What are you putting in my pie?” I’d reply, “I’m adding what you need.”
Someone asked, “Where do the white tubes come from?” I looked up in confusion. They seemed to come from the sky. Then, though, looking around, I discovered the tubes were attached to a black wheel. The wheel hung in the sky and was really just a flat black disc hanging vertically in the sky about five feet off the ground. Further, I had several sets of them. The wheels alternated between having two white sets of tubes and two black sets of tubes. I went to different wheels to put things in the pies to give people.
My sisters came along and asked what I was doing. After explaining, I said, “I’m glad you’re here. You can help because demand is growing.” Then, looking across the rolling green hills, I saw throngs of people coming from every direction. That really pleased me. I wanted everyone to have one of my pies.
My sister asked, “How do you know what to put in them?” I said, “You can just look at them and see.”
She replied, “I can’t do it. I don’t see anything.”
I answered, “Yes, you can. You can learn. Keep trying. It’ll come.”
Dream end.
The Prophecies Dream
I was invited to participate in a picnic with a number of families. It wasn’t a large gathering, perhaps thirty people. Adults and children, both sexes, very casual, being conducted at a tall apartment building where the all lived. I was invited specifically to answer questions about prophecies. In the dream, I thought nothing of it and felt quite prepared to answer questions and explain prophecies.
First, though, we ate. Mountains of food – BBQ chicken and ribs, salads including potato salad, corn on the cob, burgers and hot dogs, along with plenty to drink. The food was great and I ate my share, though I was warned to save room for dessert. A presentation by a couple people followed. Then, I was asked to explain why what they’d prophesized in the presentation was wrong. Before I could speak, though, dessert was called for. Everyone walked and milled about, finding themselves a piece of pie or cake. Several men approached me and asked if they could quiz me on some other prophecies because they’d heard me speak before. Sure, no problem, I said. But before that could take place, they were interrupted by their children and the little meeting broke up.
I waited to answer questions but everyone went down to play whiffle ball in the backyard. Adults and children were playing. It was a crowded, narrow green field with a white split rail fence to one side. They talked me into playing. The rule is, you were at bat until you hit the ball into the field of play. I was first up and hit the first pitch, a long line drive that only managed to be a single. Getting to first base, I laid down while the next person took his swings. He finally got a hit but I wasn’t paying attention by then. I finally managed to leap up to run but instead said, “Know what? This just proves that I shouldn’t be playing. I’m sorry.” I walked off then, going back upstairs.
Michael Seidel, writer 