Tag: wall

The Car & Contest Dream

I dreamed I had a very fancy sportscar. I knew it was quite unique, exotic, and expensive. It seemed dark in color but I never saw its color or make, and know little about its shape other than some brief glimpses. It appeared low and svelte with organic curves, along the lines of sports racers in the mid-sixties.

My wife and I were traveling in it. Along our way, we paused to submit an entry in a contest. Everyone was participating in it. My wife took care of that entry, going in and providing them some sample of clever engineering that we’d either found or created. Coming back to the car, she told me there was another opportunity to come back to give them an entry at three that afternoon. We agreed we would return and drove on.

We drove to our destination without incident. Then, with sunset chasing us, we headed back the other way. First we stopped to submit another entry. Since my wife did the first one, I volunteered to go in and take care of this one.

Inside this well-lit, austere place, it was chaos. I found a counter where a rotund white man with a thin mustache was supposed to be handling the entries. He looked like he was in over his head. I brought our device to him for registering and entry. The thing, whatever it was, was round, small, and lightweight, easily residing on my open palm. I gave it to him with the paperwork and watched to see what happened, wanting reassurances we were properly vetted. He did some things but seemed to lose focus halfway through. I made it a point to pester him to ensure our entry had been processed. Reassuring me, he showed me a pullback lid from a small metal can, the sort you’d find on a pet food offering. I was horrified and protested, but then decided, the hell with it, I had to go.

I returned to my car but didn’t see my wife. Picking it up, I carried it out of a crowd of people and around a corner, and set it down with a thump. Still looking for my wife and not finding her, I reasoned that she must have gone off and would be back in a moment. But she rapped on the car window from inside the car; she’d been sitting there the entire time and was indignant about the way I’d just picked up the car and carried it because it’d been unsettling for her.

That out of the way, we and five other couples began driving down a curving multilane highway into the gathering dusk. I could hear the people talking in their cars. Many were discussing my car and me. I gently accelerated, easily outdistancing them, though I knew they remained behind me and could still hear them talking.

By now, it was a moonless and starless black night. I reached a point where the road went up a vertical grade. The car handled it with no problem, but at the top was a ceiling. Reaching it, I stopped the car and left it. I was at the juncture between a white ceiling and white wall with a blue and black pattern. There was a crawlspace access. I knew from my journey there that I had to pick up the car and carry it through this crawlspace to the other side. I knew I’d done it before but I was a little more tired this time.

Nevertheless, I scaled the wall and entered the crawlspace. The other cars had arrived and were queued to follow me. Reaching back, I picked up the car with my wife inside it. As I began wedging myself and my vehicle through the narrow space, I thought, this is stupid, and stopped.

There must be a better way, I thought.

Dream end.

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The Friend & Car Dream

A line of dreams stormed the night. One ended, a short time later, another stole in.

This one featured a friend and co-worker, George. We met during my civilian employment phase. We admired and enjoyed one another from the start. One of his people later came to work for me and commented about how much alike George and I were.

First, though, was some dream weirdness. I was in some non-descript place. Others entered, and we all came together to start putting a wall together. Unknown reasons were behind the wall building, yet we were having fun. With some surprise, I realized that we were building a basement wall. I kept building even as I pondered why that was needed. Finishing it, I curled up on an armchair to sleep and the others left.

My sleep was interrupted by others entering several times. I always knew the new people and found them a place to sleep, sometimes upstairs. Some lived nearby so I questioned, why did they want to sleep in my place, especially my basement? One young woman was particularly puzzling. I think she wanted something from me, so I was sort of leery of her and her intentions. She seemed artificially happy and wanted to sleep close to me.

Then George arrived, along with a fistful of other co-workers. Getting up, I expressed surprise at their arrival. We chatted about old times. George and I had never worked in the same physical location. He worked at the company headquarters, and I was across the country. He and the others were visiting my work location. Pleased with that, I started showing them different things, telling them about how it’d changed since the early days. We were outside now. There used to be a wall up there, which was where we blah blah blah’d, I explained. Asking him and the rest if he remembered aspects of the area and how it used to be, I told him about where people used to go to lunch in the old days.

George wanted to see it. Calling my wife over to join us as the other employees walked on, I told George that I could take him in my car. We were immediately beside it, a gold tone sixties era convertible with the top down that I never quite fully saw. I told my wife that we were going to go see the old lunch area. By that point, George had entered the car and was behind the wheel. He wanted to drive my convertible, referring to it as a classic.

The three of us in the car, George driving, top down, sunshine covering us, drove off. George loved the car’s acceleration. That pleased me. I gave George directions about where to go, continuing to tell him about the changes we passed as we went. The road was smooth, a divided four-lane highway, the traffic light, with a matching mood. Along the way, I told him that people used to ride their bikes to come down here and get lunch, explaining that they’d exploited shortcuts.

We arrived at the lunch spot. Settled in the middle of a huge dirt and gravel parking lot was a large building, wood, painted dark brown. Inside was the same brown color. Fluorescent tube lights and windows provided light. The floor was bare cement. A few tables of aluminum tubes with Formica tops, with padded curved aluminum chairs, were lined against one wall, napkin holders, ketchup and mustard containers on them. Two or three workers in aprons were behind the short corner in one dark corner under work lights. George walked around, looking at the place, not saying anything, as my wife and I silently followed. Then we left.

We took another way back, to stop at another site I’d mentioned. This one was a low, narrow building with lush, exotic landscaping. It wasn’t the building which I expected and told George, but he insisted we go in anyway. The ceiling was low and the inside was dark. Within were a small Asian couple, husband and wife, we assumed. They offered me a glass of water, which I accepted and drank as George walked around. My wife said, “I wish you hadn’t taken that.” I confirmed that she meant the water, which puzzled me.

We decided to leave. The couple gave George a wrapped piece of gum, and then asked him for 10,000 yen for my glass of water. My wife, George, and I talked in confusion about what was being asked of us. When he understood, George laughed and said, “I don’t have ten thousand yen.” My wife said, “I knew you shouldn’t drink that water.”

We left without paying, but the couple didn’t seem to mind. The dream ended as we got into the car again. George insisted that he would drive.

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Idea Wall Dream

Weird little dream. I came to a wall of large beige tiles outside. It was a corner piece. Stopping with others, I looked at the wall and listened as some spoke. It was a small group of people. I knew about half of them. They were guessing about what the wall was about and I responded, oh, it’s an idea wall. Seeing the ideas (none remembered now), I started rearranging the ideas into an affinity grouping, laughing as I did this. The others began recognizing what I was talking about. Most of them then left as I stayed with it. One or two took ideas with them, which didn’t bother me at all. I was enjoying doing this work by myself, studying ideas and re-arranging them. The wall was by an intersection of two paths, and people constantly passed. Some stopped to ask questions. A few asked for ideas and carried them away when they left. Others arrived with ideas. A few placed them on the wall themselves, some after consulting me. Others were haphazard. Shrugging that off, I just correctly arranged the ideas again.

Dream end

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Unfinished Business Dream

My wife and I were young folks, in our twenties, in this dream, and very realistic to who we were in RL, including our clothes. She was busy with cleaning. I was tinkering with the kitchen faucet, which wasn’t going well. I’d change one thing and it would start spraying sideways. Something else would be adjusted, causing the water to shoot straight up. But I was determined: I will fix this. Yet, I was laughing, telling my wife as the water shot off in a new strange arc, “Check this out.” Unbelievable.

Surrendering to that temporarily because I thought I needed to think about what to do, I went off for more DIY. I’d noticed a younger person holding up a wall in the corner of another room. That might be something that I needed to address. I went in there and asked them about the situation. They were holding up the wall because it would fall over if they didn’t. “Let me see,” I said. “Step back.”

They did. The wall started toppling over.

The two of us jumped in and held it up. “But is it the wall coming down or just, like, wallpaper?” I asked. I thought that’s what I’d actually seen. We tentatively released the wall, confirming that it wasn’t the wall coming down, but just the cover.

Then I was arriving at work. Dressed in a suit with tie, I joined others in a small but well-lit office with lots of windows. “Hello, Michael, about time you got here,” I heard. Stepping into a small office where the voice seemed to emanate, I found the one accosting me was Jeffrey Donovan, of “Burn Notice” and other television shows and movies. “I’m your new boss,” he cheerfully informed me. “You’re working for me now.”

Then, I was arriving at work again, sighing because it seemed like I was just hear. “Hi Michael, good morning,” I heard from Donovan. WTH, why was he singling me out like that?

I arrived on a third morning and sighed. “Hello, Michael,” Donovan called out.

“It wasn’t me,” I shouted back, lying. Then I leaned in around his office door. “How did you know it’s me when you’re in here?”

“I have eyes everywhere,” he answered.

I was done with work. Instead, I was cutting grass and doing general landscaping chores. I was part of a crew of four others. One was a friend and the other two were strangers, but we all got on well. While we worked, we saw an area where another crew had worked; we scoffed at the job they’d done. We could do better.

The home’s owner, an elderly and tall, white woman with silver hair who looked and sounded like Bea Arthur, came out and complimented us on our work. We pointed out where the other crew had been and told her that we could improve it. After some back and forth, she agreed that we could the other area, too. Happy that we’d won more work, we set to work improving it.

A large pool was alongside our work area. Others were swimming. Four young men staged a race. We mocked them because we thought ourselves better swimmers. Then we wondered which of the four of us was the fastest swimmer.

The owner appeared. We asked if she minded if we had a race in her pool. “Go for it,” she answered.

We lined up in our trunks. After counting to three together, we dove in and raced to the far end. I came in second to my friend.

Dream end.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

I’ve been reading a lot about walls in recent months for some odd reason.

Walls. Are they needed? Do they work? Are they being built? How much do they cost? Can’t we just buy a DIY at Home Depot?

Wondering why there’s all this talk about walls was obviously an invitation for “Wonderwall” by Oasis (1995) to slip over and around my walls and into my stream.

It fits as a song for the times, though; wonderwall, in the modern urban sense, is about a person you’re infatuated with.

Lots of people seem infatuated with walls these days.

 

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Monday’s Theme Music

“Back in the U.S.S.R” by the Beatles (1968) is today’s theme music. I thought it was appropriate to give a nod to a nation that no longer exists, one who built walls to keep their nation safe while building up a huge military and cutting their social safety nets and education, a nation whose primary concern became driven by the ruling party, who did everything they could to remain in power, control and intimidate their citizens.

It’s a pretty good song.

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