The White House Dream

This dream wasn’t about the POTUS home. I was visiting with friends at a white stick frame house. In excellent condition, it was about 100 years old and had an odd layout which annoyed me. The house had a small wing added to it. My friends and I were outside but sometimes entered the white house. But going to different parts required me to pass through the added wing.

I was with four to seven friends. The number varied as people came and went. All male, all are RL dead.

But we were outside at a table in a garden, surrounded by trees, enjoying ourselves, when I spotted a shimmering in the air. “Look at that,” I said. They looked but did not see, following up with queries for a description about what I saw. I’d been looking at a tree framed by blue sky and it looked for a second like it was a glassy pond surface broken by a small ripple.

The description amused the others but they didn’t see anything like that and dismissed it. I kept watching for another, jumping from my chair, pointing and shouting when one was seen. “There, see it? It’s like a clear soccer ball is forming from ripples on a clear lake reflecting the sky.”

Although they looked, they didn’t see, irritating me as they muttered to one another that I was seeing things. I responded by telling them off for not being more alert and aware.

Some of them were coming and going through this so the entire situation was being rehashed for the newcomers. When one returned, it became a joke for them to ask if I’d seen anything else.

I went off to use the restroom, talking to myself with outrage about their ability to see what I now called energy manifestations, as that’s what I thought they were. I passed through the added wing to go from the house’s back to the front and then in to use the bathroom. Emerging from the house on my return journey, I saw another of the rippling. This time, it was a hazy humanoid shape.

It struck me that these were ET or humans from another dimensions attempting to enter our existence. I didn’t mention it to the rest, who now labeled me as a little nuts. Shortly after sitting, I spotted another. This one was definitely a clear, naked, generless human form. I watched it come into being and walk off, a clear thing that went into the woods. Going into the wing, I spotted a short white man with a white bushy ‘stach walking through there. I knew he lived in that wing and then I knew, too, that he’d been one of the what I now called ‘energy beings’ in my head. Thereafter, I tried keeping an eye on him.

Then, from nowhere, we became aware of a large celebration of elderly men taking place in a field. Long tables set with white linen were set up. I realized that four tables were in place, with twenty-five men to a table. They were serving huge pieces of cake on china, with gold flatware. I wanted one of those pieces but it wasn’t offered to me.

The dream’s last scene was of the man who I thought was an ET standing between two large trees, looking at me, holding a plate with a piece of cake.

The White House Extravaganza Dream

The White House Extravaganza Dream was long, detailed, and complicated as a Game of Thrones season. It’d take too long time and words to recount it completely, so I’m offering a few bullets.

  • I was in my mid-twenties. My wife and I were staying a luxurious mini-suite. We were discussing where to go eat when we remembered, “Oh, wait, we have the White House today.”
  • She and I were one of several hundreds on the tour. My family and brothers-in-law were on it, too. As an interesting side, they were their current ages while I was young.
  • The White House wasn’t the familiar edifice. I never saw the outside, but the inside was an extensive complex. Furniture and carpets were in cranberry hues.
  • Guides were always around, answering our questions, leading us into new halls and places, explaining things, and watching after us. The guides were all dressed in cranberry-colored slacks and vests, with long-sleeved light-blue shirts. The senior guide was an elegant female person of color.
  • They fed us a lot during the tour. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks. I ended up declining food. After eating one meal, they offered us smoothies. I turned them down because I was too full. I was amazed that others took them.
  • I didn’t meet the POTUS but the Secret Service stopped a small group of us because the POTUS was in the room. A slender, bald person of color, the POTUS he wore a dark cranberry suit, speaking about jazz while getting his shoes shined. When he finished, he waved to us and walked away down another hall. We were all very excited and pleased to see him.
  • We’d also gone on the White House water park rides. They showed us slides and videos of us on the different rides, laughing and having fun.
  • At one point on the tour, as we were being escorted from one hall to another, a young white man called me out and stopped me. Introducing himself as a WH aide, he provided me with a business card. Before giving it to me, he turned it over and wrote in pen. He said, “That’s a code to reach me any time that you need help or want anything. Just call the number and give them the code, and they’ll put you through.” I was amused. I couldn’t imagine what help I would need from the WH. No one else received such a card to my knowledge.
  • Toward the end, I needed to use the restroom and stopped at the underground WH gas station. (Yeah, ns.) I was first to arrive of five men. The room was occupied. We were not in line but standing apart. Although I was first, I let the others go ahead of me. While there, a man had a large four-wheel drive Ford pickup. Jacked up, with huge tires on chrome wheels, it was painted glossy red. He had a panel on the bed raised. I looked inside and saw an orderly line of transfer cases and differentials. While I was baffled why he had so many, the layout impressed me. “But where is the engine?” I asked, even though I knew it was a pick-up truck, the engine should be in the front. But I spotted it in the back, a huge black and chrome unit.
  • At one point in the WH dream tour, I noticed the carpet had tiles made to look like shoes. I then discovered that these included outlines of my family members’ shoes. They were enormous, much larger than my shoes. I laughed at that.

The dream was livelier than these words portrayed. I felt energetic and lifted when it ended. Its sharpness and details amazed me.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

They called it smoky Monday but Tuesday was just as bad. Lord, and Wednesday’s worse. Don’t know what it will be like Thursday but I don’t like the trend.

Today is Smoky Wednesday, August 4, 2021. The smoke continues to thicken from fires south of us in California in the Klamath National Forest. It’s miles away. The city and county keep putting out messages and alerts that evacuation in our area isn’t needed, the fires aren’t threatening us, but BTW, avoid breathing the air if you can. Limit it at least.

A ghostly pale sunrise was at 6:07 AM. The sun is a muted, cloistered presence. Sunset will come at 8:27 PM. The smoke keeps us a little cooler for most of the day with temperatures striding into the low nineties, but it’s a flat, still air. No wind at all. Stifling. Cool nights with temperatures falling to the low sixties are being experienced. But the smoke keeps us inside. I’ve learned that we must keep the western windows and doors closed, or the smoke comes in. Then we start sniffing, coughing, and sneezing as our throats grow dry and scratchy.

With all that, songs with smoke in them came to mind (you can already hear “Smoke on the Water”, can’t you) but no. I saw this video yesterday while stalking the net (or it was stalking me — such a relationship, you know?). It put a smile on my face and stuck with me. Not surprising, really. Music often sticks like peanut butter in my brain.

Here is Dave Grohl performing “Band on the Run” in front of Sir Paul McCartney and President Barack Obama and many other dignitaries in the White House in 2010. Hope you smile as I did.

Be safe. Stay positive. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vax. On a mask aside, we went shopping in Medford, twenty miles away yesterday. We were masked, along with about ninety-five of the rest of the people in the stores.


A Change Dream

Dreamed I had a large house. One story, it was white and long, like an extended ranch, with many windows. Attached to one end of it was a business in a garage. The unspecified business, now closed, used to be a hangout for gangs and drug dealers.

This was about me, but I wasn’t the me that I am now; I looked different and had a young family. Someone told me that the business used to be used for different gang meetings, the first I learned of it. Gang members, motorcyclists, white supremacists, etc., kept showing up. I was turning them away but worried about my family. The only weapon I could find was an air rifle. I used that, constant vigilance, and threats to call the police to keep them at bay. That didn’t stop them from breaking in a few times and insisting they had a right to be in the business because that’s how it used to be. Sometimes, they would try to sneak in on the other end of the house. I kept telling them, sorry, you need to go because that’s all changed.

Despite this short synopsis, it was a lengthy dream. No violence ever took place, it was taut with tension throughout.

A Movin’ On Dream

I was visiting a wealthy male friend for some holiday. It was a stop during my travels. In the dream, we were in our late twenties. He was putting me up for a day and night. Had a big, fancy place with alabaster walls high above everything else on a mountainside overlooking the ocean, window walls with fantastic views. He lived there alone.

We visited, nothing special, had a good time. The next day, he went off to work while leaving me with things that I should do before going, if I could, as it would help him out, undoing things that he’d done for my visit. I planned to do them but kept getting distracted. Then, curious, I walked down a winding path to where he worked, to see what he did. He met me as I left the path and told me, “I just manage things.”

It was growing close to my time to depart. I had flights to catch. He told me to take one of his cars. A short and confused discussion followed because I thought I had my own car. I did, but it apparently wasn’t available, I discovered, because he’d taken it off to be worked on, cleaned up, and detailed. That took me aback, but I was grateful and pleased, too.

Something about a container followed. He had this container that he used to do things. He did it surreptitiously. I got hold of one. It was a light green square. My impression was that it was a box for getting a burger from takeout. I opened the box and verified that it was empty. Residue inside it was from a cheeseburger, showing traces of cheese, lettuce, onion, and tomato.

I was running late by then, so rushed to depart. As I did, driving away in his fancy car — don’t know what it was, except it was white and luxurious — I saw that I’d forgotten to do something that I’d promised to do for him. I wanted to go back but realized that I couldn’t, so I went on with the intention of calling him from the airport.

Got to a busy, bustling airport. It was more like a city than an airport that I’d ever visited, with multiple highways and flyovers connecting busy commerce centers and terminals teeming with people. After a bit of confusion and disorientation, I found my way, parked his car, and called him, telling him where I’d parked and what I’d forgotten to do. He reassured me that it was okay, don’t worry about it. Disconnecting, I went on to catch my flight.


The Chicken Bone Dream

The chicken bone dream had much more in it.

To begin, naked but dressing, I was concerned with a chicken bone traveling through my body.

My wife was with me. She was preparing to leave for work or somewhere. We lived in this huge, modern white house. Most of the dream took place in garage. The garage was spotless, with a glistening white floor. Multiple high-end cars were parked in it. Most were white but one car was a black BMW five series, a large car. A child was sitting in the car’s trunk, eating a bowl of cereal. The child was about nine and dressed in a blue school uniform.

He wasn’t my child. I told my wife, “You can’t let him stay there. That’s a car trunk.”

She replied, “That’s fine, he does it all the time. They both do.”

When she said that, I saw that there was a blonde boy, the same age, in a green school uniform, eating cereal in the back end of a white car.

I had to leave so I dismissed it. The chicken bone in me was distracting me. First, I was thinking, “There’s something in me. It’s going down through me. What is it?”

Feeling along my body with my finger tips, I focused on my abdomen. I realized that I thought I felt a chicken bone.

As I continued preparing to dress and leave because time was growing short, I struggled to understand how a chicken bone came to be in my and how it was going to come out. I decided that I must’ve been eating a chicken leg, and I’d swallowed the bone. Now it was working through my system.

Believing that, I felt along my body with my fingers. Yes, I could discern what seemed to be the joint end of the bone. It was working down through my body. As it worked down, I kept feeling it. More of the bone was clearly discernible. Soon, it was clearly a chicken leg bone. I wasn’t panicked but I was worried about how this was going to come out of me. For some reason, I thought that it was going to exit via my penis. My skin had become very elastic at that point, so the thought of a chicken bone passing through my pecker was amusing.

Others came, dressed in tuxedos with black ties, or sparkling white evening gowns, asking, “Are you ready yet? Aren’t you dressed? We’re going to be late.”

I told them about the chicken bone coming out. They waved that off. “Don’t worry about that. Come on.”

I grabbed my tux and was putting it on as I went up the stairs in my white house to leave. The dream ended by fading out to Sid Vicious singing his punk version of “My Way”. As I awoke, choruses from “Best Day of My Life” by America Authors popped in.

I awoke feeling great.

The M.B. Dream

Someone from my past returned to me in a dream last night. They were helping me build a new home.

First, my wife and I discovered a place where we wanted to live. We were just out in another town having fun on a clear and sunny, pleasant day. We came across the house by accident. Partially constructed and all white with many arches, it struck us as gorgeous. We purchased it on the spot, eschewing all the standard real-estate requirements for buying a house. Excited, she went off with friends to move us to our new home, and I finished building it.

That’s when M.B. showed up. I haven’t seen him since 1990. M.B. was a friend, at first. We were assigned to the same squadron in Germany. A year older than him, I was a few ranks above him, and he was in a different section, but he lived across the street from me in military housing.

He was an interesting guy. Incredibly strong and athletic, his hand-eye coordination was fantastic. But he soon demonstrated unlimited arrogance, no empathy, poor communication and interpersonal skills, and was short on discipline and intelligence. He claimed to be an expert in everything and disparaged everything. We soon found out how little he knew, but since he didn’t want to admit that, he never learned. Besides all that, he was a reckless braggart. People were soon avoiding him. Although I tried being his friend, I began avoiding him. Being around him was exhausting.

It was surprising that he was in my dream, then. Not only that, but he was vastly changed and helpful. We worked on the house together. He knew what he was doing. The final touch was putting on a new front door. After going out and getting a door for us, surprising me, M.B. worked on squaring and installing it. I wanted to help but I was delayed by other things happening, and couldn’t assist. Then he had to leave. He left me with guidance on how to finish hanging the front door.

I was just beginning to do that when M.B. my wife and friends showed up with our furniture. Several of the guys helped me finish the front door and install it. I then began calling people on my cell phone to tell them we had moved. My first call was to our current neighbor. She asked, “Where did you move to?” I said, “Jacksonville.”

That was the first time that I realized that I was in Jacksonville, a small town a short drive from here.

The dream ended.


The Destination Dream

I was moving again in last night’s dream. My home that I was selling was a large white house. Built circa the 1950s – hey, that’s when I was born – the home featured a large front porch, two sprawling sugar maple trees, and a large green yard with squared off sidewalks.

The dream’s beginning found me doing yard work. I was busy and happy. In a brief aside, I then go to work and tell a woman how to use a specific computer program to conduct a search. She’s mute during the entire exchange, leaving me doubtful about whether she understood what the search could do to save her time, or if she understand what I told her. I would check back on her.

As I returned to yard work, my wife accosted me. She needed to go to an organizing event for some activity that she was involved with, and wanted me to drive her. We argued briefly, but I resigned myself. We would take our truck, I told her, leading her to a small Ford Courier or Chevy LUV sized vehicle, in other words, a small truck. A white tarp covered the truck. When I pulled the tarp aside, I had to dump water off the tarp, and worried about the trunk having water damage. But it seemed fine. Weirdly, the trunk had no top.

I got in one side, and was awaiting my wife. Two other women got in as well. I asked them who they were, and they said that my wife told them that they could get a ride with us. I had not problem with that, but then realized I didn’t have a steering wheel because I was on the wrong side of the truck. After getting out and circling the truck, I told the woman behind the steering wheel that she needed to move. She wanted to know why. I told her that I needed the steering wheel, which made her laugh.

As I waited for her to move, I looked at my sidewalks under the sugar maples. They all ha a green hue. I worried about what caused that and then noticed that my yard needed edging.

My wife arrived, so I jumped in the truck and took off. She didn’t know where the event was, so we started aimlessly driving around. As we did, she got angry, which made me angry. She was angry because we were lost, and I was angry because she didn’t know where we were supposed to go. Eventually, I saw another woman. Pulling over, I asked her if she knew where the event was.

She showed me on a cell phone. She and I then discussed where I was. Her phone showed where I’d driven, depicting my path as a fat red line. I saw how I’d circled around the same area several times. I wasn’t far from my destination but unsure how to get there. I thought I needed to go one way, but the woman corrected me, showing me a quick, direct path on her phone. Meanwhile, my wife and the other two women had left the truck and were walking around. I called out to them that I knew where we needed to go. They finally came over.

Then I paused to go back to the woman that I’d shown how to use the search engine. She still wasn’t using it, so I showed her again. Then she seemed to understand. Feeling pleased that progress was being made, I got into the truck with my wife and the other two women and drove them to their destination.

Lot of women in this dream. I see all sorts of things percolating through my mind in this dream, and it’s very positive. It makes me smile.

The Lion Dream

My wife and I were living in a pale stucco house that was part of a housing plan. It reminded me of the Kadena Air Base or Randolph AFB housing we lived in.

It was a sunny and pleasant day outside. I opened the front door, looked out, and saw an adult male lion, mane and all, about forty feet away. I said to my wife, “Look, honey, want to see a lion?” She wasn’t much interested, and I kept telling here, “There’s a lion out here.”

The lion became interested in me and the door, so I closed it. My wife looked out the window and saw the lion, but wasn’t impressed. I continued intermittently watching it. Doing that, I discovered it was moving around outside our house, and more focused on it.

Not seeing it out the front window after a while, I opened a side door. Yes, the lion was just outside. As soon as the door opened, it turned my way and approached at a brisk trot. I shut the door fast. Looking through another window, I saw the lion prowling along the house and knew that he was looking for a way in.

We had cats, and the cats were suddenly interested in going outside to see what was going on. I grabbed one as they started out the pet door and pulled them back in. When I did, the lion shoved its huge paw through the pet door and tried clawing the cat out of my grasp, but I kept the cat away. As the other cats ran toward the door to see what was happening, I managed to kick the lion’s paw. Roaring it withdrew the paw and I put the pet door cover on.

I heard the lion scratching at that door. I was a little alarmed but knew the lion couldn’t get in that way. But I was concerned that something else had been left open. As I thought fast about what could be open and hurried around, checking windows and doors, I heard the front door open. Shouting, “No,” I ran that way.

I arrived at the living room to discover my wife had opened the front door. She was stepping out. Running forward and shouting, I grabbed her and slammed the door shut just as the lion arrived.

The dream ended.


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