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I was driving with Roomie on a city street, finding our way to an airport. As an airplane flies over, I point out a large lump on the top of the fuselage. "That is for the navigation equipment." We arrive at a diner and pull our plane into a large parking space.1 After figuring out how to block the wheels appropriately, my stepfather comes over and admires the plane. "It's a Jenny"2 I say. "What till you see this" say I, and I point out the restored Heinkel scooter.3 He appreciates it. He is wearing a suit.4 I ask if he wants to go for a ride and he says yes. We take off on the scooter and ride through neighborhoods very reminiscent of Palo Alto. We arrive at a corner and it is very city-like. We ride around San Francsico up hills and down, admiring the views. It is a spectacularly gorgeous day. "Your mother and I didn't really appreciate San Francisco until last year. Now we love the city." Shortly afterward, I am cruising to a stop at the bottom of a hill, intending to turn right onto Van Ness. What happens instead is that the bike stalls, or runs out of gas.5 I go into a bathroom and look in the mirror. In the part of my hair are large bumps like pimples but taller and not as painful. I squeeze them, and awaken grateful that they are but figments.
1 Roomie and I recently admired a newspaper image of an airplane taxiing on a Connecticut street.
2 My grandfather said his Jenny was his favorite plane to fly.
3 Back in the day, I had several of these. On a recent ride back from the ice cream shop, Roomie asked me if I would ride "one of these" across the country. "Not this scooter, but the Heinkel." Several months ago, I had been looking into getting another copy of Peter S. Beagle's I See By My Outfit, a cross country on Heinkel travelogue from 1963.
4 He does admire motorcycles, or did once. He is also a businessman.
5 I believe that I have never had a motorcycle that I did not have to push home, at least once.
Posted by Underblog at June 28, 2005 6:45 AM
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I can imagine just what it feels like to ride behind you on the scooter. Wearing a suit.
Posted by: Sherman at June 28, 2005 11:40 AM
This is called second part of dream because there was a first part of the dream you didn't recall? Somehow I conjure up an idea that you might be flying with your head.
Posted by: heather at June 29, 2005 6:41 AM