The Studebaker Dream
Dream fade in. I’m a young adult. I’m with a real-life friend who passed away a few years ago. He’s charging me to take care of his care for him. “Drive it over to the condo and put it in the parking garage,” he tells me.
The car is a silver 1956 Studebaker Golden Hawk in pristine condition. I agree to do as he asks. He and I are on vacation together, along with our extended families. I drive the Studebaker over and park it in the garage. I can see it from the rented, shared condo. The condo is enormous. The living room/dining room/kitchen combo’s entire western side is open to the sun and surf. Yes, surf, because it’s located right above a long, flat beach. Wonderful sunshine and blue sky are visible outside.
The condo is busy with people coming and going, talking, making plans. All of the people are familiar t me. Many are real life friends and relatives.
I’m part of the conversations and activities about our plans. But I’m also distracted, concerned about the Studebaker. Word comes to me that it needs to be moved to let some big truck by. I don’t want to go over there to move it. But somehow I have a black, wireless remote control. Using it, I start the car, back it up, let the truck by, and then park the car again. I end up doing this same maneuver three more times. In parallel, I discover that the remote works on other cars as well. I keep moving cars for people using the remote.
Then we’re all dashing around, doing things, collecting groceries, making meals, eating. As that happens, I discover that all of the Studebaker’s windows are shattered. The car is also riddle with dents and scratches. Non-plussed, I wonder aloud, what the hell happened? I’m concerned about what my friend will say about his car’s condition.
While I’m still fretting, we all go outside to enjoy the sunny beach and ocean. It’s wonderful out there. Then, shallow, long waves enter. News reaches us that there’s a storm far offshore driving these waves. Sunshine glitters along the waves. We talk about what a powerful storm that must be.
I return to the condo for something. When I’m in there, I hear shouting from outside. Turning, I see a long, flat, white wave race up the beach. It’s not deep or thunderous but it was wholly unexpected by everyone. Watching, I see that no one is hurt. Fast moving, the water only reaches most people’s knees.
Although the condo is above the beach, the wave rushes into the condo. It carries me, upright, the condo’s length. I laugh, enjoying the experience. Looking across at the parking garage, I realize that it’s gone, along with all of the cars which were parked in it. I’m amazed but relieved; I can’t be blamed for my friend’s car damage now.
The water swirls around inside the condo. I wish for a towel. Then I realize, damn, I left it on the condo floor. It’s underwater now.
I think, I should have picked up a towel when I saw the wave coming.
Dream end.
A note: the man who passed away shared my first name, Michael. The car in the dream was made the year that I was born, 1956. Coincidence? Who knows?
Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts
I was standing in the Pacific Ocean. Waves break before me. Swirling waters rush around my calves and shoot up the beach.
It’s amazing to be there, contemplating the waves, thinking about history and science, and the forces creating the waves.
That’s why the word ‘trippy’ was invented. This was trippy.
The Waves Dream
I was at a rocky coast. Seemed basalt, reminding me of the central Oregon coast I recently visited around Yachats. Lots of huge rocks worn into curves, gullies, and humps by constant wave action.
Waves would crash on the beach behind me, sending streams of water up the through rocky gaps. The slopes made walking treacherous. I worried about sliding down in the water and also about getting smacked down by waves.
A couple – man and woman – were following me. They weren’t chasing me or anything, just going in the same direction. As I went through, I saw a short window set into the rock. The frame was yellow but the window itself was green. It was short but wide. I jumped up, thinking I’d hold onto the frame and peer through. When I grabbed the frame, it came right out of the rock. The place where it was set closed with rock. I put the window on the rock and went on. Looking back, I saw the couple behind me putting the window back into the rock. I wondered how they did that.
Continuing on, I worried that high tide was coming in. Concerns about becoming trapped rising, I moved on with more urgency as the rock walls became steeper. Studying the waters and their patterns, I realized that the tide was going out. Yet, when I turned to leave the area, waves rushed in. The walls were steep. I was forced to scramble but made it after some arduous climbing and jumping. Getting out of there, I looked back and saw the large basalt rocks shrank, becoming much smaller and flatter.
Dream end
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Tuesday has summoned you. How will you respond? Will you hide and cower or face power with power?
I don’t know. See me after I’ve had my coffee.
It’s the 23rd of August, 2022 Common Era. Headlines could be ripped from last year, except that the droughts are broader, wider, deeper. Old towns and war machines are being exposed where they were stopped. Electricity output is being cut because there isn’t enough water to run the generators.
Night surrendered today at 6:27 AM but don’t worry, cuz night will return after sunset at 8 PM. See how that works? All part of the Earth’s rotation while it revolves around the sun. I think I learned that in my early science years. A GOP lawmaker thinks it’s a good idea to cut science until after fifth grade. I would’ve still learned it, I think, though we didn’t have the web back then. Imagine what those children will learn, depending on the web. Hell, why stop there? Do children need to know math before fifth grade? Just tell them to ask their phones, right? In fact, do they need such geography gems as where the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans are? If they live beside them, they already know. Otherwise, why do they need to know that? No, just drop all of those classes until after fifth grade. Sounds like they don’t even need to go to school during that period. Let them stay home and learn from TV, right? Or maybe put them to work. Streets are dirty. Teach them how to use a broom and pick up litter.
Sorry. Early morning snark attack. The news sometimes brings that on. And I haven’t had my coffee, which contains caffeine, a stimulant, something that I learned in SCIENCE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.
Right now, it’s 20 C outside, a perfectly chill temperature under a cloudless blue sky awash in sunshine. Our high will kiss the low 90s — F, not C. Wow, can you imagine if it was 90 C out? You can if you take SCIENCE CLASSES.
Anyway…
Today’s theme selection was brought to me by Pacific Ocean waves. I thought of this song the other day, but The Neurons kept song blocking me, slipping other tunes into the morning mental music stream. The Neurons are quiet today — probably because they haven’t had their coffee yet, right? — so I can select whatever song I want. And I want “Waves” by Mr. Probz from 2014.
Here’s the music. The Neurons are clamoring for coffee, and I must abide. Stay positive, test negative, etc. Take care of yourself. Drop a dime. Keep in touch. Cheers
A Loaded Dream
This dream held so many elements. They happened in parallel but I broke them out to think about each nugget.
- I was preparing to travel and return home. I was visiting Mom and other my sisters in the east. Throughout, I was trying to determine what time I needed to leave. I was driving and flying. As I thought about when I was leaving, I thought in terms of minutes and had a stack of dimes. Each dime represented one minute. Did I have enough dimes? Stacking them, I had more than enough.
- My youngest sister (often referred to as my ‘littlest’ century, though she’s been alive for over half a century and have two sons in their teens) and her friend were missing. They’d gone on a walk. A storm was coming in and hours had gone by. As time passed and our worries increased, I tried calling her on her phone and sending her text messages. By the end, the messages were, “Call when you get this. We’re worried.”
- I’d bought land on top of cliffs. Located on the coast, growing ocean waves were pummeling it. I was thinking about building a seawall on top of it to protect it. I had a view out my window of the cliffs and the waves, which were about a half mile away.
- My car was located in a parking garage with others’ cars. At one point, heavy machinery came by and started tearing the parking structure down. Accosting the foreman, I said with some outrage, “My car is parked in that structure in a lower level, along with others.” The others had come out and were nodding and agreeing. The foreman mocked and laughed us while talking about how strong the structure was, that nothing would happen to our cars on the lower decks, but he stopped further activity and walked off looking concerned.
- Mom kept finding clothing and items left behind from other visits, such as a gray leather wallet, a black belt, and a pale gray sports coat. The coat was so pale, it was almost white. As I collected these things, I was trying to fit them into my luggage. Remembering the jacket, I decided that I would wear it on my travels home. The gray wallet was in excellent shape, but was empty. I knew it was mine, however, recalling when I bought it in Korea.
- A high school friend was present. He kept making suggestions about things to do. When he came up with something, he wrote it down and dated it so it’d be documented when he’d came up with the ideas, so he’d get credit. One of the ideas he’d come up with was building a sea wall on the cliff. I’d already come up with that idea, I explained to him, but it slide off like soft butter on a hotter knife. I started writing things down, too, backdating some of them, so I had proof that I’d thought of them first.
- As I packed, I kept trying to decide where to put things and what I wanted to have on me while traveling. While I did that, I found that I had three wallets. How’d I get three wallets? What should I do with them? Having three amused me but I wasn’t surprised.
A lot to think about with this one.
What A Dream
To begin, I’ve parked my car on a road by a small, rocky but sandy beach. Others are there. Someone says, “Look.” They’re pointing.
I turn and look. A large whale is being washed up onto the shore. A man is down there trying to wrestle it into place, an impossible idea. But past that, huge waves are rising and rushing toward us.
I say, “Oh my god, look at those waves.”
The first guy says, “That’s what I was talking about.”
I reply, “Run,” and start running along the beach.
Enormous waves crash behind us. Water is swirling back there. We’ve escaped. We’re on the move and still in danger. I’m with two others, males. They’re friends and younger. “We gotta go,” I say. “We need to get away from here.”
We find a rusted and repainted (gray and white) panel van. I start it and drive away. We drive and drive through the night. The van has a bench seat and no rear seats. It’s empty. The gas gauge is broken. We’re driving parallel to the ocean. Huge waves are crashing. The sea is rising. We need to go until we can turn inland.
I feel like we need gas. Finding a station open, we stop. I have forty dollars. That’s all the money between us. We’re hungry. But — I have a credit card. I talk to the attendant. I’m surprised but relieved he was open. Yes, but not for much longer, he tells me. We’re probably his last customers. I ask if I can pay with a credit card. Yes, he replies, leading me to another man. He’ll take care of us.
We eat and buy supplies, paying with gas. We’re exhausted. We talk about sleeping in the back of the van. Then, I have an idea: let’s go back in time so we can warn people. My friends like that, so that’s what we do.
We arrive at an air force base. I’m in uniform. One of the guys wants to attend a service. He’d died before; this service was for him. He wanted a chance to say good-bye to himself.
So we agree to wait for him while this happens. As I’m standing there, a U.S. flag is ceremoniously folded and handed it to me. I accept it with proper protocol and then give it to another. That was my part.
We go into a briefing room. It’s more like a theater. An officer friend is briefing about a weapon failure. I know what happened because it’d already happened. I push to the front and tell them what happened and convince them that I know the future because I came back from them. I warn them about the growing storm and the need to take action.
The dream ends.
The Waves
Stressed and blessed
encouraged and discouraged
he’s riding the waves of the day
Angry and numb
frustrated and feeling dumb
she’s riding the waves of the day
cascading and rising
falling and sliding
the waves lift you up and
take you under
man and woman
no matter skin or order
all of us ride the waves of the day
Michael Seidel, writer 