Friday, December 5th, 2014

There were about thirty people eating dinner in the pub, and they were all sitting at the tables by the front door. One of them had the only loaf of bread in the whole place, but he wasn’t doing anything with it. The loaf was on the floor next to his chair, and one of the legs was standing on the wrapper. I asked him if he’d move so I could have the loaf. He looked at me but didn’t say anything. I asked him again but he just went back to eating his dinner.

I went to the kitchen where Neil Patrick Harris asked if he could help me with anything. I said I wanted the loaf of bread but the guy out front wouldn’t give it to me. Neil asked me to wait a second, went into the back and came out with a pair of loaves, one roughly the size of a sofa cushion. The other one was ten feet long and looked like it had been extruded from one of those Pla-Doh toys with the L-shaped form. I said I’d take the big one, thanks, and asked him for a bread knife. He said they didn’t have one, tore off a chunk and said I could have more if I wanted as he handed it to me.

bread | 6:27 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Friday, November 28th, 2014

In my dream, I was driving my triple-decker bus onto a military base and had to stop at the front gate, where the gate guards didn’t so much check it for explosives as much as they pointed and asked a lot of questions about where I got it and how I fixed it up with bunk beds and a galley kitchen and a home theater system with quadrophonic sound.

While they were looking it over, inside and out, I grabbed one of the little mirrors on a stick and checked the undercarriage for bombs, then I went inside the gate to the garage and got something, but I can’t remember what.

When I went back to the bus the guards were done and there was a line of impatient people behind the bus waiting to get on base, so I climbed back up to the top floor of the bus where the driver’s seat was, fired up the engine and drove away.

FYI, there really have been triple-decker buses, but not many.

triple-decker | 7:30 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Wednesday, November 12th, 2014

I made an important discovery last night as I put my hands under the kitchen faucet to wash them: When the water touched my skin, a thin whisp of steam came wafting up from the webbing between my fingers.

“What’s so important about that?” My Darling B asked, when I showed her.

“Just watch this,” I said and, by way of explanation, I put my head under the faucet and turned the water all the way on, then stood up, drenched. My head was smoking like a blown-out match. More important than that, though, was that it restored my memory.

I ran out the front door and down to the lake, which was somehow at the edge of our front lawn instead of three blocks to the west, and stripped to my skivvies because, even when you’re doing something outrageously nuts, you’ve got to maintain some kind of decorum. “Sorry,” I turned and shouted to B, who was standing on the front stoop now, “I love you, but I gotta go now! You’ll understand in a minute!” And I jumped into the lake.

Completely submerged now, my entire body began to restructure itself, using the water as a catalyst, until I was about the size of a gnat. Well, the part of me that existed in three dimensions, anyway. The rest of me was so diffuse and existed through so many other universes that it was perceptible only as a rainbow stream of pastel colors that filled visible space and dazzled everyone around me into cataleptic shock. Oops. Well, guess I’d better get back to the mothership toot sweet, then. Toodles, all!

toodles | 5:47 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Friday, November 7th, 2014

Ugh, I’ve been up half the night because of a recurring dream in which I’m interviewing witnesses for a court case, which wouldn’t be so bad if it was an interesting case, but it was about something so boring and stupid that I don’t even remember what it was. Every time I woke up I would think, Jesus Christ, that was like a bad day at work, and then I’d lie awake obsessing over every detail, just like when my mind gets spinning about something at work, until I dozed off and had the dream again, except this time with another witness in another place, usually pretty weird. I interviewed one of them while I was sitting on a chair just outside their barely-opened bathroom door while they were having a squat. Even that was dull. If being a paralegal is anything like that, I’m glad I’m not one of them, that’s all I’ve got to say.

witness for the boredom | 4:32 am CDT
Category: daily drivel, dreams, sleeplessness
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Wednesday, August 20th, 2014

I was in a big hurry to get across town, but the traffic was horrendous and it seemed to be the day for every obnoxious driver to practice his particular brand of antagonism, like the guy behind me who cut me off when I tried to merge right. That pissed me off so much that I wasn’t paying attention to the light at the intersection we were approaching. I didn’t see it turn red and that didn’t leave me enough time to stop when the guy in the pickup truck in front of me stopped. I hit the brakes as soon as I saw what was happening but I still ended up tapping him. Not hard. Not much more than a nudge, really. Certainly not hard enough to leave a mark on the solid steel bumper of a big damn pickup truck.

He didn’t care how hard it was. All that mattered to him was that I tapped his truck. To show me how much he disliked that, he shifted into reverse, gunned his engine and began to push me backwards up the street. I stood on the brake pedal but it didn’t matter. He was in a really big truck with a really big diesel engine. He probably could have pushed a school house uphill in knee-deep snow. My wheels were locked up, rubber was burning off my tires and he was still pushing me backwards so fast that I couldn’t safely jump out of my car, although I was still thinking of doing it …

… and then I woke up, heart pounding. Man, I hate dreams like that.

smokin | 6:10 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Monday, March 31st, 2014

I had just finished tuning up the engine on my Datsun 4-wheel-drive pickup truck and wanted to see how it sounded, so I hit the button on the garage door opener, then grabbed a rag to wipe the grease off my hands while I waited for the door to open.

The truck, however, did not want to wait. It backed out of the garage almost before it had enough room to get under the opening door, and because the doorway was so narrow, I couldn’t chase it until it was out the door and backing down the driveway. It made it practically all the way to the street before I had a chance to go after it.

After it crossed the street, it went straight up the neighbors’ driveway and into their garage, shoving their old Ford pickup against one of the family cars. Then all three vehicles kept going on through the back door of their garage into the yard where they just missed the chicken coop.

Right about then was when I finally caught up with my truck, opened the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, mashing the brake pedal to the floor. That’s when I realized the engine wasn’t even running. It had backed across the street and shoved two cars out of the way using only the starter. Now that’s some pretty awesome engineering. I only hoped the neighbors would be as impressed as I was.

getting started | 6:19 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Tuesday, February 11th, 2014

In last night’s dream it was the first day of class. All the seats were assigned, our names written on note cards laid on the seats of the hundreds of chairs packed into the classroom, all written in an alphabet I’d never seen before. The teacher wouldn’t allow anyone to talk, so I couldn’t ask if anybody saw my name on the chair next to them and even if I could, they couldn’t tell me. I had to start at the front of the room and pretend to read each and every one of the cards on the empty chairs while I tried to figure out how I was going to recognize my name when I came to it. I’ve never been so relieved to hear my alarm clock.

seats | 6:08 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Monday, February 3rd, 2014

I dreamed we were living in the garage of our house, for reasons that never became clear. It was a huge garage, big enough to park a couple of fire trucks in and have room left over for us to mill around. There weren’t any fire trucks in it, though, just shelves all around the walls and lots and lots of empty space in the middle. All our stuff was piled up on the shelves and I walked through the dream picking through the stuff on the shelves for the pots and hoses I used to brew beer, but couldn’t find any of it. “Where could they be?” I kept asking nobody in particular. “It’s not like they’re small pots.”

garaged | 5:59 am CDT
Category: daily drivel, dreams
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Saturday, January 25th, 2014

I have this recurring dream that I live in an enormous house and I’m walking through room after room to get something from one particular room that seems to be somewhere on the other side of the county line. Sometimes the house is almost completely empty of people and sometimes there isn’t so much as a stick of furniture in any of the rooms, but sometimes, like last night, the rooms were sumptuously furnished with post-modern sofas, wingback chairs, pianos and so on, and the many people gathered in every room said hi to me or just waved so as not to interrupt the conversation that was going on as I passed by.

When I finally got to the room I was looking for, it was filled shoulder-to-shoulder with the kind of badly-painted plaster mannequins you’d find in a forgotten five-and-ten store, and one whole wall was a plate-glass window that faced on to a busy downtown street. The book I wanted was on the arm of a recliner by the window. Nobody walking by along the sidewalk seemed to notice me as I picked up the book, sat down and began to read.

picture this | 8:06 am CDT
Category: daily drivel, dreams
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Thursday, January 23rd, 2014

I had a really cool dream to tell you about. It was so cool that I laid awake for a while thinking about how I was going to describe it, and after I’d come up with a catchy phrase or two I drifted back to sleep, thinking I’d be able to get it all down in words later.

Well, it’s later and I can’t remember a damned thing except that there was a tennis court on the front lawn of our house with a cyclone fence around it and around our house. I was stuck on the outside of the fence until I could find the phone that was supposed to be hanging next to the gate. There aren’t a lot of places on a cyclone fence to hide a phone, though, so I wasn’t having much luck looking around outside until I noticed that the phone line had been pulled back inside the tennis court. I thought, How am I going to get into the court? when the wind blew the gate open. Very secure. Good thing we got that fence.

security | 5:48 am CDT
Category: daily drivel, dreams
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Friday, October 11th, 2013

“Did the goat who was a man turn into a goat in your house?” my mother asked me just before the alarm clock woke me up. It was such a lucid dream that the sound of the alarm zapped me out of sleep like an electric shock.

The rest of the dream slowly came back to me as I stood under a hot shower.

Right before I sat down at the breakfast table with Mom, where she asked me about the goat man, I was in my bedroom peeing into my shoe because my baby brother was using the bathroom. In real life, my brother’s just three years younger than I am, but in the dream he was a baby, not more than a year old, and he was trying to get the lid of the toilet open. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’ve really got to go. You’ll have to find another place to go.” So I went into my bedroom and, since there wasn’t anything else to use, I took off my shoe and peed in that.

Just before the shoe peeing, my brother and I were in a big red truck that we were trying to drive down a short flight of steps and around a tight corner in a farmyard. The corner was too tight and there was a low brick wall right at the corner, so we got out of the truck and were discussing how we might demolish it when the farmer came into the yard, grabbed a corner of the wall and pulled it back like a blanket. It was a blanket. And the heap of manure behind it was a bed. And the farmyard was a big, dark room with a high ceiling where he was apparently going to milk some cows because he brought a milking machine into the room after pulling all the blankets of manure off the floor. My brother turned into Tim and we sat on the blankets and waited for the milking to begin. It never did. Then I had to pee, and that’s when I peed in my shoe.

And just before that, I was on a beach, freezing my butt off. Everyone else on the beach seemed to think it was a beautiful day, but it wasn’t. It was cloudy and dark and cold and slightly rainy. They all wanted to frolic in the sand and waves and for a while I played along, but when I thought I’d put up with that long enough I took a long, hot shower in the beach house, then got in the big red truck and got the hell out of there. And drove to England. That’s where the farm was. The roads were very narrow and the truck was very big and I was having trouble getting to the farm until my brother appeared in the truck and told me how to get to the farm.

What happened before the beach? That never came back to me.

goat man | 6:00 am CDT
Category: dreams
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Sunday, September 1st, 2013

George ClooneyGeorge Clooney offered me a job last night. I think.

I was on vacation on a canal barge with a big family. They let me come along for free because I knew how to pilot the canal barge. I was in the pilot house with the father of the family and the owner of the barge, and the owner was giving us hell because we did something to the roof of the barge that made him very unhappy. He was going on and on about it for so long that I lost interest, turned to look around and there was George Clooney with an assistant, patiently waiting for a break in the conversation.

I was so astounded to see George Clooney that I couldn’t think of anything to say, not even “Hi,” so I smiled weakly and raised my hand in a sort of wave. He smiled in that jaunty way that only George Clooney can, shook my hand and said something I didn’t understand at all, but he turned and left before I could ask him what he meant. His assistant, however, remained behind, so I asked her, “Did he just offer me a job?”

“Yep,” she said.

“Well, what is the job?”

She didn’t know.

“How can I find out?”

She said she would ask, and she dug around in her tiny little purse until she found a slip of paper with George Clooney’s number on it, punched it up on her cell phone, and exchanged a few words with George. “He said he didn’t want to talk about it on the phone. He wants to meet you again.”

She led me to a children’s museum, then said she had to go but, before she left, gave me directions to the room where George Clooney would meet me. It was one of those children’s museums where I had to climb ladders, crawl through tunnels and feel my way through darkened rooms to get from one side of the museum to the other. At one point, I had to get down on my hands and knees to shuffle through a hobbit-like home. One of the kids ahead of me had puked on the floor and I thought, as I was trying to figure out how to get through without getting vomit all over me, This had better be one really awesome job.

And that’s when I woke up.

new job? | 8:17 am CDT
Category: daily drivel, dreams
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