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May 21, 2005
Dream Fragment: Tinkering
I was working on a Model T in a little shed which contained a surprisingly nice little workshop.1 The shed was located within a dusty camp: there were a bunch of small buildings on kind of a circular trail, with pine trees in between them. I stepped out of the shed / garage several times to admire it. 2 Lightbulbs kept needing to be replaced.3 I had to choose between two 25 watt bulbs, (one normal and one old-timey, with thicker glass and a flat end). I choose the normal bulb because the old-timey bulb deserved more prominent placement.
While walking around the compound stretching my legs, I see Tom Waits and my old boss from the Raven Theater 4 duck in to the men's room. They have a juvenile and conspiratorial expression, as if they were up to no good. I return to the shed, and when Tom and my old boss walk by, I instruct them to look inside the shed. They wonder what I am up to, but then they admire the nice workshop inside and the Model T.
We look at the Model T together. It is pretty much just a chassis and bodywork, but significant upgrades have been made to the chassis.5 It has been strengthened and lightened by the addition of an aluminum box channel running its length. We discuss what kinds of seats would be appropriate for this year and model of automobile. Six seats or four? Diamond-stitched?
1 I recently purchased new coveralls.
2 I have spent an unholy amount of time admiring our garage, and will miss it perhaps most of all house features when we move.
3 I have recently replaced most of the lightbulbs in our house.
4 They are friends in real life.
5 Roomie has often mentioned that she would like to have a car that looked and operated like an old one, yet runs and with the safety features of a new one.
Posted by Underblog at 6:13 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 12, 2005
Subbing Again: Another Weird Dream Fragment
5.12.04
Update, sort of: New Order of "Oddball Rodent" Discovered Being Sold as Food in Lao markets. And Stylish Savannah Cats may be banned in New York. Kitty porn for the rest of us.
So here is the dream du jour, fresh from the pillow at 5:41am. My sister, stepsister, and her son were all staying at my folks' house.* Except the house wasn't really their house, because there was a glassed-in porch, which held my step-sister's bed. Also, the house was much closer—right around the corner in fact—from the small set of stores near my folks' house. When I asked my step-sister if she was comfortable sleeping on the porch she said she slept better than ever. The three of us begin walking to the local ice cream store† (or so I thought), when I ask where my nephew is. I am reminded that he had already been put to bed.** I think that because it is ten minutes to eleven pm, it is unlikely that the local ice cream store would be open.†† Instead, we are walking to the local 7-11 store, which is not where the local 7-11 store really is. My sister and step-sister talk with the proprietors, who appear to me to be brothers and of middle-eastern heritage. They have an excellent ice cream selection, including unmarked hand-packed cartons. My sister orders a carton and chats with the owners. We discuss how "crack" has entered the lexicon as an ironic euphemism for anything that people desire strongly. I order my carton of ice cream, and I hand over a ten-dollar bill, the last currency in my wallet. I receive change for a five. I tell the dude, "Uh, that was a ten." "No it wasn't" he replies. We both insist on our rightness, and I seethe at the insinuation that I am either mistaken or lying when I know that I am right. I tell the dudes what idiots they are to insist on withholding my rightful change when I live just across the street (when in fact I am there only for a visit), and I threaten them with telling my friends, writing letters to the editor, etc. All to no avail. I leave the store fuming; my sister and step-sister remain behind.
I awake thinking about how difficult it is for people like me to break out of the molds made for us by the circumstances of our upbringing.
*I had been thinking about how ridiculous that I considered staying in graduate school based on how disappointed my parents will be that I did not finish.
†I am on something of an ice-cream kick, having twice made special trips for it in the past month. I may have also been inspired by the article below. Finally, Generation Bob and I have recently discussed our respective sweets intake.
**He is in fact in high school now and quite grown up. It is unlikely that he would not be accompanying us.
††We have been foiled by early ice cream store closings in the past.
Conclusion: House not where it is supposed to be? Store not where it really is? Me on the brink of pulling up stakes here on the prairie? Coincidence? Perhaps not.
Whew. Now something to cheer us back up: Our correspondents respond! Featured at right, "A litter of groundhogs emerges from the underside of a propane tank on a farm in Mason County, Ky." care of RT. Also from RT, Ice Cream Vendor Punches Complaining Little Boy. At least the friendly ice cream vendor in my dream wasn't like this guy. Also: What Do You Think? Texas Cheerleader Crackdown from the Onion.
Posted by Underblog at 5:59 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
May 3, 2005
Boring Dream Fragment
<dream>
Even my dreams are boring lately. I recall that I was talking with two other Yanks about the time they spent in Berlin. One was describing that he lived close to the Wall in the French sector (which I supposed to be near Wedding). The other claimed that he too was near the Wall, but that the streets were named after American states. [I don't recall any streets named after American states in Berlin].
</dream>
There are three possible bases for this dream, at least on the dimension that I can perceive.
- earlier in the day I had been thinking about how nice it would be to visit my sister in Italy again. The unintended consequence of establishing the principle that your kids leave the house after high school is that they make lives for themselves far away from their parents. The result of this in turn is that we children visit our parents California and Maryland, but not nearly as often the other siblings in their native environment. This is a shame.
- I did stay in the French sector of Berlin. Freienwalderstraße to be precise. On my way to the apartment for the first time, I rode my Laverda on the Stadtring and overshot Freienwalderstr. and began to cross a bridge, where a guard armed with a submachine stepped out beneath a huge sign "YOU ARE LEAVING THE FRENCH SECTOR." Welcome to Berlin.
- I had too many sweets yesterday: a Dr. Pepper at lunch, a Kit-Kat at the office, a Capri-Sun at home, and ice cream for dessert. This may also explain why I awoke at 4:41 am.
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