Sean Connery, Me, and A Cat In A Dream

We were ordered into a car. My companion, a male, was up front in the passenger seat. Top down, the convertible car began speeding along.

I said, “Is it my imagination, or do I detect from the motion that this car is going backwards?”

No answer came. As I processed that null response, I said, “Is this a Rolls Royce?”

The driver was looking back over his shoulder. He was in the right hand front seat. Looking back as he did verified for me that we were going backwards — I couldn’t see over the sides of the car to be sure.

The driver was Sean Connery. As that registered, I debated, Sean Connery or James Bond?

I gathered that we were going backward around a cloverleaf exchange and then accelerated straight onto a highway. At that point, Connery executed a handbrake turn, reversing us 180. We now traveled in the correct position.

After a time, the car was pulled over. Telling us, “See you later,” Connery hopped out and waved good-bye.

My companion — a short, elderly white male — and I were relieved to be free of Connery and have position of our Rolls again, because we needed to turn the car in. Problem was, that wasn’t the car that was expected, and the company would be upset. We traveled back to the turn-in location where a tall, white man in a suit greeted us. After hearing our problem, he said, smiling, “No problem. I can make this go away.”

Some paperwork was processed. As that went on, I checked some physical records. These tracked my health and activities. I was shocked to discover they were marked SECRET in the standard stamp at the top. It flummoxed me to think that those innocuous records were marked secret. I then also discovered my CIA identification, a rueful reminder of the secret world I inhabited.

The tale man returned. “Slide your company card through this card reader.” I smirked at the expression, company card, but did as told. “Your bill is twenty-four dollars,” I was told. As I reacted, he added, “It’s been paid.”

My original companion and I went off in another car. Exiting the building, a young black male stopped us. “You’ll need this to get back in.” He handed us a laminated blue card with black grease pencil writing on it. As he walked off, I called out, “No, we don’t need that, we already have one.” I held our original up, showing it to him, and then flipped the other to him. It sailed like a flying disc.

He caught it without effort. “That was impressive,” I said.

He shrugged. “I do that all the time.”

“How many times a day?”

“At least three.”

That impressed me. My companion and I drove off.

Dream shift. I was on vacation, walking toward a river. Bending down as I reached the roaring, turbulent river, I rubbed a cat’s belly. Wondering who this friendly feline was, I investigated and discovered it was my own ginger mini-puma. As I talked to him, he rolled around and then stood and stretched.

I was worried. We were over a mile from home. “What are you doing here, so far from home?” I asked the cat. In response, he trotted ahead of me, as though he and I were journeying together.

The cat splashed through some water. I crossed onto a natural rock bridge. Standing over the raging white water, I saw something scything through the water ahead. I couldn’t say what it was. Then a bird attacked me. I swatted it away. Another bird then attacked. This bird latched onto my leg. As its claws dug in, I beat it until it released me. Realizing that two birds attacking me was unusual and guessed, they’re probably protecting nests in the rocks around me. With that conclusion, I hurried on.

Dream end.

Another Validating Dream

Validating dreams are the best. I’ll provide a synopsis of this one without great detail.

A sharply clear dream, I was (again) a young fellow in the military, taking over a command post. Several people in the dream were people who worked for me. They had multiple problems. I found them immediately, and installed fixes. My spirit throughout this was optimistic and upbeat, a hundred on a hundred point scale. The dream’s only oddity was that the command post vehicle was a circa 1960 Volkswagen Beetle. Low, dark shale, it lacked bumpers but ran fine. One of my first observances was that the CP was lacking parking blocks. I acquired them. They were fixed in place on the ground but the VW was too low, and its chassis would drag over the blocks. Yeah, there wasn’t much connection with reality there. That’s where it all ended.

The Sci-Fi Dream

Yeah, another dream post. I’ve been avoiding them, but…well, here I am.

We were in a dark, dark future. It seemed like most of the light was sucked out of the world, but that may have been because we were confined to a small, claustrophobic keep. Blue dominated. It seemed like everything that was lit was indigo blue – clothes, walls, and machinery. There weren’t many of us, we didn’t have much food, and we were dying.

We were trying to solve multiple huge problems to stay alive. To do that, we’d learned how to look into the past. To solve the future problems, we discovered that, while seeing into the past, we could move people into the future, where we were. That was helpful. We then tried moving objects, like food, medicine, equipment, and machinery into the future. They couldn’t be moved. Whenever we tried moving anything but people into the future, it turned to blue and black dust.

We were puzzled; why could we move people, but not food and other things? Why just people? The question was never answered.

***

In an aside, I then dreamed that I was making my bed. When I untangled the sheets and covers and began straightening them, I heard jingling. I pulled back the corner of the sheets and found a pile of silver coins.

 

The Reassurance Dream

One of last night’s dreams had me traveling.

It was all going wrong. It began with me leaving an aircraft and discovering that I’d been on the wrong flight and had subsequently landed in the  wrong place. Knowing that I was on a tight schedule, the realization sent anxiety tremors through me.

As I began to sort the situation, I discovered that besides being on the wrong flight, I didn’t have my tickets. I also didn’t know where my luggage was, or where it was headed.

Chaos ruled the airport. Noisy and crammed with travelers, flights seemed to be screwed up for many. My heart was sinking with the magnitude of the mess. Weariness spread through me.

A tall man in a airline uniform called my name and approached. “We know you’re having some problems. Don’t worry, we’re going to take care of you and make sure you get to where you’re going.”

Two women in airline uniforms were with him. One woman said, “I’ll make sure that you get on your flight and get to where you’re going. Don’t worry about it.”

The man said, “I’m going to get the flight ready. I’ll come back and check on you.” He walked off.

The other woman said, “I’ll be here to help you. Just come and see me if you have any problems or issues.”

I felt a lot better, and flattered. “Okay, thanks. But I’ll be okay.”

“We know,” the second woman said. “We’ll make sure of it.”

I found myself in a packed waiting area. Finding space on the floor, I set down the one bag that I carried. I planned to call people to tell them what was happening. When I looked for my phone, I discovered it where my wallet was supposed to be. In a flash, I realized that I’d packed my wallet with my identification and credit cards in my checked baggage.

I felt sick. Someone could open my bag, find my wallet and steal my credit cards, and my identification. As I grappled with that, a small calico cat came up to me through the terminal. Butting her head against me, she purred, meowed at me, and sniffed and rubbed against me.

Others noticed the cat and were envious, telling me, “How sweet,” and, “Can I pet her?”

The cat allowed herself to be pet and cuddled, but she always came back to me. I told everyone that I’d never seen her before. Someone said, “That’s your protector animal.”

My phone, the old Blackberry that I used to have, began ringing. It was an old friend who died a few years ago. “I got a joke for you,” he said.

“Why’re you calling me now? I don’t have time for jokes, Randy,” I answered.

“Sure, you do. This won’t take long.” Then he told me a joke (which I don’t remember).

Another old friend, also dead, then called. He also wanted to tell me a joked exasperating me. “I don’t have time,” I said. “Yes, you do,” he replied.

The second woman approached. “We have your luggage,” she said, and then, there was my luggage. In a rush, I opened it. My wallet was in there with my ID. My credit cards were in there, but they’d been cut in half.

The woman said, “They saw your credit cards were in your luggage, so they cut them in half, to protect you.”

While I appreciated them looking out for me, I was upset because my credit cards had been cut in half.

Then the woman put her hand up and said, “They ordered new credit cards to replace those, so you won’t have any problems.” In her hand were replacement credit cards.

The first woman then announced to the waiting area that an aircraft was ready for us. A small cheer came from the passengers in response. As I stood and began gathering my items, the woman came over and called my name. “You need to come first,” she said. Then she told the others, “We want him to get to where he wants to go.”

Everyone nodded in understanding as she led me forward to the waiting aircraft.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Ever see a bird soaring, kiting, or flying over the planet on some destination and think, I’d like to to fly like that? I’d like to fly away, sail, soar and wheel. Maybe you just wish for it in a more metaphysical way, dreaming of rising above your days of toil, strife, and trouble, longing for a better life.

I know I’ve had those days. Steve Miller captured the sentiment in musical expression in “Fly Like An Eagle” from 1976.

Feed the babies
Who don’t have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin’ in the street
Oh, oh, there’s a solution

Work-around

So many times, people, companies, and nations develop a work-around, and then accept it as a final solution. Perhaps you know of people who took a temporary position and was still in that position twenty years later. That’s often the classic.

I’m thinking about it today because many work-arounds we’ve developed have been accepted as permanent solutions, but now the problems are being revealed. Fossil fuel is one, water use is a second, and recycling is another. In our town, we’ll start paying more money per month for our recycling. They’re calling the two to three dollars a month extra a surcharge. I rarely notice surcharges going away, myself, but maybe I’m myopic or cynical about it. Whenever I think of surcharges, I think of the airline fuels surcharge.

We’re paying more for recycling here because the Chinese are rejecting our output. It’s too dirty for our standards. Recycling companies are claiming they’re already losing money because supply and demand, and the cost of cleaning the recycling – which uses water.

No, I don’t have the answers. Each individual product and service needs to be addressed. Some are gaining the focus that they need, but, hey, time and money, right?

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