Bad Dream 221- Where's My Frisbee?

In my dream, I am in a room that might be a hotel room.  I'm here with two of my brothers: Richard (who is deceased) and Warren (who is still with us).

I am an act in a show being presented this evening.  It's a one-time event, and the various parts of the show (performers, music, lighting, etc.) have never had a dress rehearsal.  But nobody I know working on the show is worried about it. It seems that everything is going to be quite simple -- a series of performers doing unrelated stuff: dancing, singing, whatever.  

My act is sort of juggling, but not in the classical sense.  A primary piece of apparatus is a special kind of Frisbee that's battery powered.  As part of my preparation, I have replaced the AA batteries on the Frisbee with fresh ones.  

Things progress a bit (don't recall details, but I do interact a bit briefly with my two brothers), and it's then time to get my props together and head off to the Theatre. It seems my brothers won't be going, and it's not clear to me whether they simply weren't invited or they don't care to go.  

But I can't find my Frisbee!!  I look all around the room, under things, behind things, etc.  And then I re-look in all those places... but no Frisbee do I find.  I ask my brothers if they've seen the Frisbee, but they just kind of shrug.  Why would they know anything about my prop?  And it's painfully clear to me that my act would be really lame if I didn't have my Frisbee tricks.

The dream ends with me getting more and more frantic.

 

Bad Dream 220 -- Playing Pool vs Emilie Barber

In my dream, I am playing pool on the Crosslands table against Emilie.  There are spectators -- none of whom I recognize.

As the dream starts, the balls are scattered at one end of the table and it's my shot.  There are no easy shots available, so I simplly hit the cue ball into the bunch to try to create some opportunities at a later turn.  That sets up a vey easy shot for Emilie.

Her technique is awful and she engages in that blather that drives me nuts.  Despite her lousy form, she manages to pocket a ball, and an onlooker announces that Emilie has taken an early lead.  

When it's my turn, there are no easy shots again and I try a highly unlikely shot simply because there's no alternative.  It fails to sink a ball.  But this sets up another easy shot for Emilie, who pockets another ball.  

After this goes on for a while, I notice that all the balls that had been clustered at one end of the table are now clustered at the other end of the table.  I also realize that the "shelf paper" I had carefully placed in the ball collection area under the playing surface of the table had come loose from the double-sided tape I had used to secure it to the "floor" of the area.  I plan to re-secure the "paper" with pop rivets when I get the chance.  I'm bummered out by the way the game is going (Emilie has taken a 3-ball lead...) and her constant blather, but feel good about having a plan to re-secure the "paper."  

The onlookers are pleased that Emilie is winning, with seemingly no recognition that she's always getting easy shots and I never get one.  

  

Bad Dream 219 -- Two Snippets

 These two snippets happened several days ago, the same night but different dreams.  Each was part of a larger dream, but the only remnants of them are these two snippets.  They have stayed with me ever since, suggesting that they were important.

SNIPPET 1  In my dream, I am driving a car.  The snippet doesn't reveal what make/model of car or where I was coming from or going to. 

As I am cruising along in the car, I look down at the gear shift ane realize that the car has a manual transmission -- with either five or six forward gears.  I am delighted to make this discovery.  I put my hand on the gearshift and mentally prepare my feet for a gear shift.  I plan to shift just because I can and not to accelerate or decelerate.  

SNIPPET 2  In my dream, I am standing up inside a house and looking out the front window.  Looking across the street, I see J. Pat Valentik standing in front of the house that's over there.  He seems to be talking to someone over there.  I get concerned but curious at the same time: if this is the J. Pat from back in those old days, I hope and pray he doesn't know I'm here, so he can continue with his life and I can continue with mine.  But maybe just maybe he's come to realize how manipulative he had been with so many people and that he's become the sensible, mature, and pleasant human being that so many people hoped he would become.    

There's a slight pause in the dream.  When it starts up again, J. Pat is in the house where I am, and his attitude and language show clearly that he hasn't changed.  He looks at me and I can see/hear/feel his mental wheels turning as he begins to talk at me.  I realize that I am vulnerable to his "plans" and that my life has just changed -- not for the better.  I start to consider how I might successfully bail out of anything he plans, asks, or feels entitled to do.

It's an interesting pairing of snippets and just writing this down helps me see how they are related and how they bring wisdom to me:  There's is a future that I can mould to my own health and the support of people aroud me -- me to them and they to me.  But I have to be aware of who I've been and the snares that remain.   

Bad Dream 218 - Don't Worry About Your Hair

In my dream, I am at dinner with my family back at 1209.  Things are going smoothly, and I am standing up beside the dinner table when She comes rushing in and right past everyone. 

"She" is an amalgam of several women I have known: mainly Mary Maguire and Allison Prettyman. 

She is clearly upset about something -- and barely recognizable because of Her hair.  I have always known Her for having lovely long, flowing darfk brown or black hair; but now Her hair is now short, ridiculously poofed up, curly, and a pinkish orange or orangy pink.  She's rushed past all of us clearly because She wants to be there, but doesn't want to be seen because of Her hair.  She's always taken good care of Her hair, and clearly someone has done something dreadful to it -- something that won't be easy or quick to fix. Her attitude is a mixture of anger and panic and embarrassment. 

She comes back into the family dinner area and starts talking very quickly about what happened to Her and Her apologies and her anger.  No one in particular is talking to Her -- or even looking at Her -- but everyone is quiet.  Her just being there seems to be calming Her down, for which I am grateful.  She seems to recognize that She is surrounded by friendly folks that She knows and who know Her, and I am sure that we can calm Her down completely and make Her understand that our feelings for Her haven't changed with Her hairstyle.  

In the midst of all this, my brother David spills his drink (iced tea, I think) over his food and surrounding area.  While this is a bit annoying, I think the diversion from Her hair is a good thing.

Bad Dream 217 -- Trying to Help

 In my dream, I am in a large, old building -- possibly a barn.  I'm here with a considerable number of other people -- all of whom are working hard at what they're doing.  And what they're doing is a lot of different things.

I understand that we're all here to turn the building into a theater: stage, rows of seats, lighting, etc.  Some of us are working on the structure itself, including carpenters and (possibly electricians, plumbers, etc.)  Others are working with potential cast members talking about assignment of roles, costumes, etc.  I'm impressed that everyone around me seems to know her/his job and knows how to do it well.  

Except me.  

I understand that everyone is a volunteer -- bringing his/her talents and skills to this very large project.  But I'm not sure that I have anything to contribute.  People are so tied up to what they're doing that I'm reluctant to interrupt them and ask if I can be of any assistance.  

People walk around me without any sign of recognition.  I feel I want to contribute to this program, and feel I might have a usable skill, but the flow of activity around me is just too intimidating.  

Ah!  There's some trash on the floor in front of me and a broom nearby.  I pick up the broom and start sweeping.  And someone almost immediately tells me to stop and that I'm not sweeping the right way.  He takes the broom out of my hand and starts to sweep.  Yes, it isn't the way I was doing it and his way is fine, but I don't see any particular advantage to his method.

Okay, now I really start to feel bad.  I can't interrupt anyone to ask for help in getting started doing something helpful... and I can't even sweep the floor the right way.  

 

Bad Dream 216 -- A Loan for Zink

 In my dream, I'm sitting with Zink -- a very dear friend -- and maybe one or two other people.  Zink is asking me for a loan, and I understand quickly and easily how hard it must be for him to do this.  He was a very proud and independent soul.  

I look into my wallet, where I've got a number of paper bills,  I know I will need or want some cash for some upcoming events, but feel that I can easily loan him a pair of $20 bills.  I take them out of my wallet and start to hand them to him.  He holds up his hands to indicate that I misunderstood something.  

He says: "Um, actually, I'm going to need roughly $1500."  I'm a bit taken aback, but know I can adjust my resources to loan him that, but it will take a bit of time to secure the cash.  

He is then explaining something about the need for the money -- something about a BMW and a financial arrangement with my younger brother, David.  (For the record, I'm pretty sure that Zink and David had never met in life -- and both of them are now deceased.)  I don't understand what Zink is explaining to me, but am not surprised.  When Zink was not being straightforward, he could get purposely obscure.  

A phone rings.  It's a 20th-century-type land line.  I answer it.  It's a woman who wants to talk to me about this very topic of an outstanding bill and how we hope to pay it.

There are now 6 or 8 other people in the room, and most of them are talking.  Much too loudly to allow me to hear what this lady is saying.  I ask them to be quiet, and they tone it down a bit, but continue to chat.  I move to an adjoining room where it seems to be considerably less noisy.  But then someone in that area begins to vacuum the floor.  

Fortunately, the phone is on a very long line, so that I can move to yet another area, where it is, thankfully, quite quiet.  I continue my conversation with the lady on the line.  

She starts to explain the situation in more or less the same words that Zink had been using and specifically mentions the BMW -- so I'm sure now that we're talking about the same subject.  But the terms she's using are much like the obscurity that Zink was creating.  

I ask her to back up and explain the entire situation from the very beginning, rather that picking up the issue mid-stream.  I assume she's started the conversation the way she had because she assumed that I knew what this was all about.  

She's quiet for a bit, and then asks me essentially the same question: Why don't I explain to her what I understand about the situation?  I think she's talking to someone else in her office, getting instructions as to what to say next.  And then I realize that it's likely she is a representative of a collections agency rather than having anything directly to do with the reason that Zink and/or David got into a financial arrangement with.. whomever they did.

I wake up.

Bad Drean 215 -- Shouold be wearing shoes

 In my dream, I am "assisting" someone on supervising a project.

We are a block or two north of the main business district of West Chester at some heavy-industry site which, of course, never existed in the waking world.   

The person I'm supposed to be assisting is a man in his mid-40's or so, dressed in business attire.  I, on the other hand, amd waring a tee shirt and shorts.  And no shoes.  Barefoot.  I like this guy and admire his work.  And am happy to support him in any way I can.  

He is supervising the mating of two massive pieces of metal -- both round -- with bolt holes to allow the two plates to be bolted together.  I can see the two pieces of metal -- both upright -- facing each other at a distance of several feet.  The ground is marked with lots of loose pieces of metal, dirt clods, etc.  It's not place to be walking around barefoot.

My guy seems to know exactly what he's doing, and really doesn't need me to do anything.  It feels as if I'm there strictly pro forma.  Maybe I could go get coffee for him if he asked...

Since I seemed to be unneeded here, I went back to the main street in West Chester to get a pair of shoes.  My dream took me through several different stores which might have had shoes... but didn't.  Each store took a considerable amount of dreamtime and each store was quite different.  

I returned to the project site and was informed that the mating of the two pieces of metal had to be postponed, as folks couldn't put all the bolts in to finish the job (whether is was a lack of bolts or holes or supporting brackets to line the pieces up wasn't clear to me.)  

Leaving the site (not knowing whether I was properly shod or continues to be barefoot was not clear), I came across Charlie Pelot, a fellow I worked with many years ago.  I think, but am not sure, that he wanted me to play baseball with him and one other person, whom I saw only at a distance.  

I told him thanks for the offer, but I really wasn't interested in doing that.  As I recall, I decided not to point out to him that we only had three people, and you couldn't do much in the way of playing baseball with a crowd that small.

He was clearly disappointed and tried to change my mind.  And as he talked on and on about how important baseball (if that was, in fact the sport he was suggesting) was to our national identity and pride.  And the more he talked, the louder and more angry he became.  Fairly quickly, he was simply yelling at me.  

I woke up.