Bad Dream 133 -- Morning of 12/27/20

In my dream, I am taking a test/exam on a Shakespeare play.  My dream didn't inform me as to which play.  I am in a small classroom at a classical student desk writing out my essay answer(s) to the test.  Or exam.  There are maybe 5 or 8 other students taking the exam.  Or test.

I am cruising through this.  I know the play well.  I enjoy it and feel I understand what the author wanted us to get out of it.  And my insights into the play are being sharpened through the process of writing out my ideas.  I am pleased and excited.  I think I'm writing on lined yellow copy paper (not the dreaded Little Blue Test Book) using green ink.

There's still time left before our essays are collected, and I still have some additional writing to do.  But I feel the need to visit the bathroom for the usual reason.  

When I return, the room is essentially empty.  The other test takers are gone, the instructor or test monitor (that's not clear which it is in the dream) is also gone.  All the desks are empty except for mine, which is where my mostly-finished paper still resides.  

It occurs to me that I can be accused of cheating.  That I might have smuggled a copy of the play into the test room and taken it with me to the bathroom to check on a few things before finishing and submitting my test paper.  Or possibly that I had stashed a copy of the play in the bathroom somewhere for the same purpose.  

I am feeling anxious and angry at myself for not having seen this possibility beforehand.  And I was doing so well!  

I take my test papers down to an office setting where I think the teacher/monitor might be so I can explain the situation and hope my test will be accepted just on my say-so and the good will of the test supervisor.  In the process, I realize that I might have gotten an "okay" to visit the bathroom from the test supervisor -- and maybe had an escort to assure I wasn't cheating.

There are two young women sitting at desks in the office.  They're rather pretty, but look quite different -- one from the other.  They look as if they are both office workers rather than faculty members.  I explain my situation and ask if I can leave my test with them so they can hand it over to the professor with my explanation.  They both seem perfectly happy to do this.  They nod almost in unison.

I wake up.

Bad Dream 132 -- Morning of 12/13/20 or thereabouts

I've been dreaming a lot lately -- but haven't been able to capture most of them.  But I'm sure the dreams are rich with meaning, and I'm sorry I can't recall them.  I think they would have been helpful...  But here's an exception: It happened maybe a week ago, but I still remember most of it, and think that writing it out will help me to remember even more.

In my dream, I am standing near the edge of a lake.  The lake is large enough for folks to launch and ride around in smallish boats, but it's considerably smaller than, say, Marsh Creek.  There's lots of greenery around the lake.  Trees on the far shore, grass at my feet.  

The weather is lovely.  Warm enough but not hot.  A gentle breeze but not windy.  You get the idea.  I see a small sailboat just heading out into the wider lake.  It has a cheerful blue hull with a lot of freeboard.  It's maybe 12 or 15 feet long, and there are a awful lot of people aboard.  I see their faces side-by-side stacked as if they were a pile of photos.  There may be 8 or so people which, of course, for a boat that small, is impossible.  

The boat moves slowly from my left to my right, gradually getting farther from shore.  The boat and all those people are still only maybe 20 or 30 feet from shore when the boat comes to a halt.  It's clear to me that the boat has run aground.  Hit a submerged rock or possibly a sandbar. It stopped slowly and without any sudden lurch.  

The skipper soon realizes what's wrong, but isn't sure what to do about it.  He's not anxious to go overboard to push the boat off the obstruction, so he starts bouncing up and down, holding the sides of the boat -- hoping he can "jiggle" the boat free.  

The scene changes slightly.  The boat is now roughly halfway across the lake, having somehow gotten dislodged off the rock.  The sail shows that the boat has wind enough to move it, but I sense that there's something else wrong with what's happening, and that it would make sense for me to try and get to the boat to help.  

I recall that I have a sailboard that I could use as a paddleboard to get to the boat and offer assistance, and I'm very pleased that I can get involved in a meaningful way to help.  I then recall that I've given away all my boats, so that I can't help the folks in the small blue boat.  

I wake up quickly and sadly.  

Bad Dream 131 -- Morning of 12/13/20

In my dream, I'm walking through a residential neighborhood.  The dream does not inform me as to what is on the other side of the street, but the sidewalk on which I'm walking borders a series of row homes -- brick fronts, maybe four homes connected as a "pod" and a considerable number of such pods.  Pods are maybe 30 feet apart, one from the next with grass and a few plants in between.  

It's getting towards evening and I am nowhere near my home -- or any place where I might stay.  I'm getting really hungry, and this is more important to me than finding a place to stay the night.  There's no sign of a hotel or other commercial enterprise, just this seemingly endless line of brick row homes. 

I look at all the front doors staring back at me and know that there are some people who live in these homes who would be comfortable taking me in and feeding me.  But which ones?  I'm mildly concerned about how hostile some folks might be if I pick the wrong door to knock on...

Finally, my hunger overrides any concern I may have for a negative response to my request.  I pick a door on the left-hand edge of one of these pods.  No particular reason for my initial decision.  Just pick one.

As I walk up the sidewalk towards this door, I see that the yard and steps could use some assistance.  Not that things look seriously broken down, just that things are being treated casually to their detriment.  Maybe I chose the wrong door.  Or maybe the person/people inside will understand someone being down on his luck better than folks who are doing quite well.

I think I knock once or twice on the door, but realize quickly that wasn't necessary.  I see through the window someone walking down a set of stairs in such a manner that I know he's coming to the door.  I chastise myself for choosing this door, but it's too late now.  

The door is opened by a youngish man -- slender, maybe mid-to-late 20's -- dressed casually but neatly -- flowered shirt with 1960's era tight fitting pants, possibly with bell bottoms -- with the most remarkable head of hair.  He's Anglo, but is wearing his coal black tightly curly hair in what needs to be called and "Afro."  It's only maybe an inch or an inch-and-a-half above his scalp, but it's shaped remarkably like a football helmet.  It even comes down the sides of his head -- still tightly curled -- just as a football player's helmet might fit.   

He seems almost glad to see me and understands quite quickly that I really need a good meal.  And is more than ready to provide one.  He talks quite openly and friendly like, to the point where I think he's speaking from his own need to chatter.  I'm a bit concerned about this, and if I weren't so hungry, I would probably just turn around and keep walking.  

Somehow, I know he's going to invite me to stay the evening -- and it is starting to get dark and the warmth of the day is fading with the light and I have no other resources for shelter -- but I sense that staying here would not be a good idea.  I try to figure out if there's some polite way to accept his invitation to dine but decline the invitation to stay.  (An invitation that he hasn't made yet.)  Would he proposition me?  Would he force me to do something I really didn't want to do?  I remind myself that no one knows where I am...

Why is he being so open and friendly with a complete stranger like me?  

Do I pass on the meal offering in order to avoid dealing with an unwelcome invitation?  

I wake up.  

Bad Dream 130 -- Morning of 12/6/20

Finally connected having a coherent dream with having the wherewithal to write it down before it evaporated.  

In my dream, I find myself near a major airport.  I think it's supposed to be Boston, but I'm not sure.  I've come from the airport and have a Specific Job to do -- but the dream doesn't share what that Job is.  I know I have to keep track of where I am because I need to get back to the airport sometime in the not-too-distant future.  (It's interesting to note that the dream does not include anything about airplanes: getting on, getting off, getting your luggage, nothing.

I then find myself inside a large, seemingly single-story building.  Fairly typical business and commercial structure and furnishings.  There are offices left and right off the central corridor -- names on the doors' glass windows, etc.  Some doors open, some shut.  Most if not all of the office spaces are limited in size, so they are probably Field Offices of larger corporations somewhere else.  

I realize that, to accomplish the task I'm here for, I need a pad of paper.  Just a simple A-size pad of lined paper.  And I don't have one.  

I walk up and down the halls of this large building, passing lots of small business offices and the occasional retail store.  But none of the stores are likely to have the pad I need.  There are jewelry shops and (ladies?) clothing stores, but nothing like a business supply store or a simple drugstore that might carry pads of paper.  

I think it odd that, in a building this large with so many businesses obviously busy with office-type work that there wouldn't be a stationery store of somesuch.  But there you are.  It occurs to me that I could probably stop into one of these small business offices and just try to secure a pad of paper from them, but something prohibits me from doing so.  That happens in a dream world, you know...

Occasionally, I find myself outside on a street (a city street, but only single-level buildings), which is houses and small offices and such lining the street.  And every now and then, I see a shop maybe a block away, but once again, it's not a business likely to have a pad of paper.  The good news is that I'm not being channeled through the environment the way I was inside the building.  The bad news is that I may be losing track of where the airport is in regards to my current position.  That would be bad.

As I continue looking for a pad of paper, I suddenly realize I have put Something Important down somewhere -- and didn't pick it up again.  And I have been searching for a pad of paper in so many places, that it's extremely unlikely I'll find it again.  In fact, I'm not totally sure I know what it was, so I couldn't even ask anybody "Have you seen an X around here recently?"  

At that point in the dream, I seem to think I told myself: "Geez, you can't find a pad of paper, you've lost that Something, you don't know what it was, it's possible you won't be able to get back to the airport in time...  You might as well wake up."

Which is what I did.

Bad Dream 129 -- Morning of 12/5/20

I've been having rather complete and complex dreams recently, but haven't reminded myself to REMEMBER THE DREAM the night before.  And I'm sorry about that because my recollection is that the dreams were rife with meaning -- and would have been fun and informative to write up in this collection.  

Last night and this morning were no exception.  The only thing I remember -- and it was vivid enough to wake me up - was this:

At the end of my dream, I am standing outside somewhere.  It feels like someone's great big back yard, with carefully mown grass and a few large shade trees.  It's pleasantly warm with a gentle breeze.  A woman approaches me.  We know each other, but it's not clear in the dream how deep or extensive that relationship is.  But it may be extensive.  

She's talking to me about her plans for the upcoming day and near future.  I stop her gently and ask her to explain to me what these plans mean.  And she gives me an almost "Well, duh" look and says something along the lines of "Yes this means I'm having affairs.  I'm cheating on you."  I think she may have been a bit uncomfortable in telling me these things, but she had no intention of changing her plans.  

And that's when I woke up.  I totally did not expect this woman to say what she did say.  I thought our relationship was strong enough and deep enough that such behavior was unthinkable.  But the attitude of this woman was almost casual in making this announcement.  There was nothing in the dream that lent me to think we were married, but what other arrangement would make sense?   

Now I get this notion that this woman could be interpreted as my Anima.  I buy into this big time.  And from that basis, there are a variety of different interpretations as to what her announcement meant.  Was this cheating something she was just starting to do or had she been cheating on me (whatever that might mean) for some time and was planning on continuing that behavior?  And what would it mean for my Anima to cheat on me?  Would she be looking to attach herself to a different facet of my personality?  Is she just giving up on supporting our existing relationship?  Does she think that the "me" she's been interacting with for all this time is, in fact, simply not the real me -- and she's going to try and find a more real me elsewhere?

As Deb and I move closer to relocating and downsizing, I'm seeing my getting rid of so much and many of the things I've identified with as being a paring down of my self identity to a more valid and clarified person.  (That being getting rid of my boats, my juggling supplies, etc.)  And in that context, maybe my Anima's announcement simply means she's testing out who these other, possibly more valid, versions of me are...  

(I need to start remembering to REMEMBER YOUR DREAM again...) 

Bad Dream 128 -- Morning of 11/2/20

I didn't write up this dream until 11/4, being caught up in "Open Doors" related stuff.  But as I was re-reading what I wrote, I realized it would be important to document what I've got written down here.

In my dream, I am writing an essay for some sort of exam.  I don't think there's anything to the exam except the essay.  I'm allowed to write it on any topic I choose.  And I understand that my success in writing the essay is important to me, both now and in my future.  

I am in a room sitting at one of those awful student desks.  And I am the only person taking the exam -- that is, writing an essay.  However, I am far from alone.

There are people constantly entering and leaving the room.  And it seems like most if not all of them are talking loudly, although none of them are paying any attention to me or what I'm doing.  Their constant chatter is causing me to lose concentration on trying to find the right topic.  I come up with topic after topic I might use, but realize that none of the ones I've though of would allow me to express my deeper feelings about the subject -- and that I need to find a subject that will allow this if I am to pass the exam.  

I know that if I find the right topic, I will get the traction I need to write an excellent essay, but the chatter around me just won't allow me to think clearly and deeply enough to proceed with writing the essay.  

I've written a few "starts and stops" in that ubiquitous little blue exam book, and I know that the person reading and grading the paper will understand that.  But when I turn the next page in the book, I see that I only have one half of a page left in the book.  Which is nowhere near enough space to write the essay I want/need to write...

WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN   

I didn't see this when I wrote up the dream the morning I had the dream, but it seems perfectly obvious now: it's all about me and my life.

The room I'm sitting in is the environs of my life -- and the essay is, of course, the story of my life.  I think about the various careers I've had, and about some of them were tough and unfortunate and others were a true gift and an absolute pleasure -- but none of them was really all about me.  So that explains all these people coming through my space, talking loudly, but not paying any attention to the real me.  

Not the full me.  So each of those people might have been one of the false starts on my essay. 

And coming to the end of the book -- with room for just a paragraph or two?  With no chance to write the essay that I might have written?  Yup.  Being 73 years old, that's how it feels.  

Bad Dream 127 -- Morning of 9/28/20

In my dream, I am at some kind of camp for grown-ups.  There are maybe 50 to 100 people here -- it's hard to tell.  All grown-ups.  The people here kind of know each other.  We're not total strangers, but we're not close friends either.  So I'm guessing it's a company-sponsored get-together.

As the dream starts, I am in a lecture hall with a bunch of other people.  Seating is somewhat haphazard -- not theatre type seating arrangement, but long tables perpendicular to the speaker.  Someone at the front of the room is giving a lecture.  The words are perfectly clear and the speaker is presenting with considerable energy.  And I can tell that some of the people in the audience are listening very carefully -- the information being provide affects what they do in an important way.  A number of us, however, are sitting through this lecture simply because we don't have any choice.  But the dream does not allow me to know the subject of the lecture.  I understand that the lecture material is tangential to me and my interests.  I sit and try gently to pay attention, but if I don't remember anything about the material, that's okay.  

It's a two-day program here at the camp.  That much I understand.  And the lecture -- which seems to have been one of several on related topics -- took place on the first evening.  The scene shifts now to mid-day on the second and last day of the get-together.  

We're outside.  And I can see that the facility is located at the top of a considerable hill surrounded by woods.  The air is pleasantly warm with a very gentle breeze.  The sunshine is quite bright.  

Most of us are sitting on benches but some of us are walking around pretty aimlessly.  

The Point of All This seems to be (and I think I understood this in the dream as well as afterwards) that the first day of the event was packed with information that the sponsoring organization (whatever it was) really wanted us to absorb.  But no one in the organization seems to have done any planning for what takes place in the second day.  

MY TAKE ON WHAT ALL THIS MEANS

As I woke up from the dream, there was a strong feeling that the dream was a reflection of the Cadence of My Life.  

For decades, I felt driven to keep a good job, accumulate a financially solid base, and work as hard as I felt I needed to -- and I felt I needed to work hard indeed. But now, while I have a pleasant variety of things I might do, none of them really matter much to the world around me -- and maybe therefore not to me as well.

If I do stuff (Quaker Meeting, Photography, Staying in Shape, Reading), that's okay.  No one will mind.  But if I don't do those things, there's no consequence.  

Bad Dream 126 -- Morning of 7/6/20

In my dream, I have recently checked into a hotel along with a co-worker (male) who checked into separate room.  We are on a business trip of some sort.  

I am at the jobsite -- which is an office setting.  There is a desk where I can do some work, although it's somewhat crowded by employees of our customer.  My co-worker has seen me to this desk and informed me that he has other business-related activities to perform elsewhere.  So he leaves.

After he's gone, several workers encourage me to change my location from where I've been working to a desk at the far end of the room.  There is a half wall with bulletin board space between this new desk and the rest of the office space, which feels like a help to me.  The partial isolation.  I can concentrate better.      

Time passes and my co-worker does not return.  The day is getting on, and folks are starting to wind up their activities.  No one's headed for the door just yet, but there's that feeling of wind-up that you get in an office late in the day.  

Still no co-worker.  

I begin to get concerned because:
  -- my co-worker and I drove to this place -- and he took the car to drive to his other destination.  I really have no idea where I am in regards to the hotel.
  -- I don't know what my co-worker's "other destination" is.
  -- I can't recall my co-worker's name or his telephone number.
  -- I also can't remember the name of the company I work for.  So I can't check in with headquarters to start up a string of information that will get me oriented again.  
  -- I don't recall the name or location of the hotel where all my stuff is.
  -- If my co-worker had already stopped by, he would have seen that I was no longer at the desk where I started out.  And he wouldn't see me at the back end of the office behind this half wall.  So he might well have assumed that I got a lift back to the hotel with someone from the customer's employ.  

I think I can re-establish contact with my co-worker and the rest of my life if I can only get a copy of the Yellow Pages phone book.  I think I would recognize the name of my hotel if I saw it in print.  I ask one of the office workers for a copy of the Yellow Pages and he tells me they don't keep copies of that book any more.  He suggests that I look on-line.  For some reason, I know that won't work. 

I think about just abandoning the whole enterprise -- start over from scratch but recall that I have valuable stuff stored in my room at the hotel.  I could simply walk away from this whole episode except I can't leave my stuff.  

I wake up.  
  

Bad Dream 125 -- Morning of 6/15/20

Another dream that showed up relatively late.  Rather than 2:00 or thereabouts, this showed up around 4:40 or 5:00 this morning.  I was so delighted with the dream that I posted the following on Facebook:

Some of you already know that I've been studying Dream Analysis for the last several years. I'm now keeping a Dream Diary with over 120 entries and counting.

I'd like to share a dream I had this morning -- not because it is loaded with Important Content (some of them are!), but because it's lighthearted and pleasant:
____________________________________

In my dream, I am standing near a tall tree. I have a fairly large white metal sign with writing on it that I wish to hang from the tree so that others can read the writing. (The words on the sign are multi-colored, but the dream does not include information about what the writing says. Dreams are like that.)

I see a pair of branches overhead -- almost parallel to the ground -- that are a good height from which to hang the sign. And the sign has holes at all four corners so that it can be properly tied up and suspended between the two branches. Unfortunately, the branches are just a little bit too far apart for proper alignment of the sign.

So I convince an octopus to climb up into the tree, grab the upper branch with two tentacles and the lower branch with another pair of tentacles. And pull them together a bit so that I can tie up the sign. The octopus doesn't require much convincing and seems genuinely pleased to help.

The octopus performs his/her task beautifully and it becomes an easy job for me to secure all four corners of the sign in place. End of dream.
____________________________________

Now you see, this is why I place so much confidence in Dream Analysis as being a pathway for my Unconscious Self to communicate with the rest of me. I consider myself to be a reasonably clever person, but there's no way the Conscious Me would ever come up with such a delightful, inventive story. And this is something I feel about most of the dreams that I've been documenting: I'm just not that clever, that inventive.

BTW, if you'd like to discuss Dream Analysis in any context, please let me know. Dreams are often best handled by small groups of interested people.

Bad Dream 124 -- Morning of 6/14/20

It should be noted that this dream showed up after I had been awake for a while and gone back to sleep -- I think twice.  I spent much mental "time and energy" this morning worrying about the future.  Will our country manage to hold itself together in the face of all these challenges showing up at once?  It feels like this anxiety was an important part of the dream, but I don't know how.  Just yet...  Also, I didn't write up the dream until late Sunday afternoon and early evening.

In my dream, I am standing in an old, large garage.  It feels just too large to be a single person's -- or family's -- garage but the stuff that's in it feels like personal property. Much of the detail of what's in the garage remain just a sideline to the "gist" of the dream, but I seem to recall some gardening equipment, a gas can or two -- that sort of stuff -- placed around the walls of the garage.  All of it casually placed and somewhat dusty/grimy/dirty.  

In retrospect, I find it a bit odd that I didn't have a car or even a thought about a car.  Great big garage.  No vehicle to put in it. 

But I do remember a motorcycle.  A black Honda twin from the 1960's.  In the dream, I recall thinking it was a 305cc engine -- and looking closely to confirm that.  Yes it is.  I feel somewhat smug for knowing that.  

But I know it isn't my bike and I am getting tired of it taking up room in the garage.  And the fuel tank is dusty, so it hadn't been used in quite some time.  So I lift the side kickstand and wheel it out to the street curb.  I think the owner will get a bit shirty about this, but I think he has it coming to him.  

(I don't remember the order of the next two phases of the dream.  They may have happened in the reverse order of my writeup.)  

I am back inside the garage.  I notice a door on the side of the garage.  The wall is made of brick, and the door is nicely made -- if a bit tired -- with a rounded top.  Then I notice that the brick pattern around the door indicates pretty clearly that this wasn't the original door.  The original door was much wider and taller, and the space between that original brick door frame and the newer round-top door is filled in with a well-done pattern of bricks.  I wonder what that original door was meant to be used for.  It's much too large for people but too small for a vehicle entryway.  The "new" door is properly sized for people, but maybe two feet above the floor.

The owner of the Honda shows up but is not surprised to see his machine at the curb rather than inside the garage.  He's a short round nebbishy looking fellow.  His concern, which he voices loudly is "Where's my helmet?"  I look down at my feet and see a bright red half helmet.  Stupid looking, but befitting the bike and its owner.  I tell him "It's in here, sitting right next to your helmet."  The owner grumbles something and starts walking in.  

(My notes from this morning next say "I want crying uncontrollably."  I think my dream self is doing just that.  Crying uncontrollably.  And feeling that if he/I keep at it, the crying will drain off the anxiety that I'm feeling.)

The next part of my dream involves my Mother.  It's very unusual for my dreams to include her, but it's good in this case to be close to her.  (There's something in my notes about " something something, but the flows are not the same.  This could be water or energy, but it's important to know that there are two separate systems of the flow.  There's also something about Eddystone, which refers to a power plant where I taught several courses ever so long ago.)

I see that my Mother is seated and has her hand wafting slowly over a used  electronic panel.  It looks very much like the horizontal mother board of an old-fashioned TV set.  I'm concerned because I recall that there are big whacking capacitors on some of these modules, and that touching one of them if it's charged could release a considerable amount of electrical power.  I don't want my Mother to get hurt.

I wake up -- more because this is my third wake up of the morning rather than that my dream is complete.  

Bad Dream 123 -- Morning of 6/4/20

(I didn't get around to writing up this dream until about 30 hours after it took place.  So some of the details are a bit fuzzy and possibly inaccurate...)

In my dream, I am taking an exam.  It's a math exam -- and back at college, I struggled with math considerably -- taught by a woman teacher.  (I had a woman teacher -- PhD in math -- and did particularly miserable in her classes.)  But the teacher is not in evidence for the exam.  

Knowing that I'm up against a serious challenge in the exam, I get to the classroom early to  get situated and properly prepared.  There are two other people in the classroom when I arrive: Ricky Coburn and an unidentifiable.  (Ricky lived quite close to me and we did, in fact, share some classes back in High School.  We didn't get along at all, but I don't think there was any antagonism there.  Just different circles of people.  But I did beat Ricky in our elementary school's spelling bee.  He and I were the last two contestants and he blew a word that I knew how to spell.  I think he left the stage in tears.  I felt sorry for him -- watching him go offstage -- and wished that maybe the end result had gone the other way.  Ricky had an older brother -- Rusty -- and he was the same age as my older brother -- Richard -- and I think there was some serious animosity there, but I never knew why...)  

As suggested, I was expecting an exam with some very difficult questions and exercises on it -- and the two other people in the room seem to be working quite hard.  And now the room has a number of other students in it -- all of whom seem to be working hard.  When I look at my test paper, however, the questions look to be rather easy.  I wonder if something is going on that I should feel so  comfortable while everyone else seems to be struggling.  Do I not have the same test paper as everyone else?  

As I settle in to working on the test, there is some chatter starting up between various members of the class.  I don't think they're talking about the test -- giving each other answers or suggestions about how to approach any particular question -- they're just chatting.  

The chatter gets a bit louder, and I find I can't concentrate with all this talking going on.  (I think) I call out and ask for some quiet -- this is, after all, a test we're taking.  There is some agreement with my concern and the chatter decreases.

But one guy, a heavy set fellow, who starts loudly complaining that there's been too much noise.  That he can't concentrate on the test and it wasn't fair and on and on.  He doesn't seem to recognize that, at this point, almost all the noise in the room is his own talking, and he is now interfering with everyone's taking the test.  

I'm pretty fed up with how this is going -- especially since I feel my chances of doing okay on the test were improving until all this noise -- and I yell at this one guy talking and tell him, "Shut Up!!"  He looks surprised and offended.  I start getting concerned because he looks like he could be dangerous -- and certainly that he may continue talking, but start complaining about me calling him out.  And all of this interferes with all of us working on the exam!  

Bad Dream 122 -- Morning of 5/31

(It should be noted that I had this dream on a Sunday morning.  The next day, a small group of us from Meeting are to visit John Rudibaugh's house to see work performed by one of the two contractors left in the running for work on the Meetinghouse.)

In my dream, I am scheduled to play golf with John Rudibaugh at his club.  When I get to the club, I find I need to park my car on the grass on the wrong side of the road at a spot a considerable distance from the clubhouse.  It's not that the normal parking lot is crammed with cars, it's just that their parking lot is pretty small.  I find all of this a bit puzzling.  I don't mind the walk, but I would have thought that John's club would be a great deal more "pinkies up" than this.  

The scene changes to being out on the course.  It's my turn to hit, and I'm only a couple of feet away from the hole and just off the putting surface.  There's a rather gaping hole in the turf between my ball and the "safe" putting surface.  The ground is depressed, hardened clay, marked by holes, and there's a large rock directly in my "line of fire."  

I can see my ball easily enough, but I can't see the hole.  Someone (possibly John) pulls back some grass and shows me a brown/purplish cover on top of what I imagine is the hole.  I'm not at all clear how I'm supposed to hit my ball so that it falls into this covered hole, but at the moment, that's a secondary issue.  The primary issue is that I need to loft the ball enough to carry it over this gaping hole -- which is maybe 18 to 24 inches across -- and then have the ball stop close to the hole.  Lots of backspin needed to get this done. 

By this time, the ball is no longer beside this gaping hole, it's in it.  And not too far from the large rock. So the shot will require even more loft and spin.  I place the face of my wedge close to the ball and start to figure out how I need to hit the ball to accomplish this really tricky shot.  As the clubface touches the hardened clay, the clay collapses, causing my ball to roll away a bit and then fall down into one of the several deep holes.  It rolls out of sight.  Clearly, there's no way in the world I can find the ball much less hit it with a golf club.

I reach into my pocket to retrieve another golf ball and discover that neither of the two remaining balls I have is playable.  One is round, but less than half the size of a regulation golf ball.  The other is roughly the right size but seriously oblong.  

I know that I brought a bunch of golf balls with me, but the rest of them are all back in my car.  I apologize to John and whomever else is nearby and go running back to my car.  

I am now returning to the golf course, and am surprised that the course seems to be closed.  No one is out there playing golf.  I walk into the clubhouse and over to the dining room area.  There are tables, but most of them are unoccupied.  But there's a crowd back by what looks like a lunch counter: all the front stools are occupied and there are many folks (all men) fanned out behind them.  At the center of all this activity is John Rudibaugh.  Food is being brought out from the kitchen and dispensed to several folks.  

I know it would be a mistake to try to get John's attention.  He seems to be enjoying being the center of attention, and I would be an unwelcome distraction.  And I can't think of any reason why I should bother trying to get his attention.  

I wake up.  

Bad Dream 121 -- Morning of 5/16/20

In my dream, I am driving my car down a 4-lane busy highway that has been pretty much fully developed.  It's one strip mall after another.  

I am looking for a particular shop or office or other facility, which should be on the right side of the road.  I've visited this place on previous occasions, but have difficulty recognizing it quickly enough as I drive that I don't pass it by.  So I'm paying attention to my driving as I look off to the right as the strip malls go by.  There are a few "waypoints" that I recognize, assuring me that I'm going in the right direction on the right road.

As I approach the top of a rise in the road, I see a large sign -- basically yellow -- that I recall having seen on previous trips to this facility.  So I set myself up for turning off the road sometime soon.  I realize too late that I should have turned off at the collection of stores and offices where the yellow sign was.  I realize this because the road in front of me has changed drastically.  It's now a large expanse of carefully kept grass -- possibly a golf course.   

The scene changes again as I realize I need to find a restroom sometime soon -- and this is more important than getting to the facility I was trying to get to.  I find myself in what may be a large old house that's fairly bare of furniture, etc. and I'm walking into the bathroom.  I am then walking out of a bathroom and towards a door that I know will lead me outside.  There's a woman sitting on a high stool near the door, and she clearly hopes/expects me to pay a fee.  I decide not to pay her.  She smiles at me as I walk past and out the door.  

I am now outside and looking at a gravel-paved parking lot.  It's nearly empty.  I am now inside my car and need to park it somewhere in this large nearly empty parking lot.  I consider one space but think it's too close to a large piece of machinery which might be farm equipment or something used for road repair.  

I finally decide on a place to park my car, but I'm not sure it won't be damaged if someone gets too close to it.  But it's safe enough...

I am now out of my car and am engaged in some light conversation with two boys, roughly 12 and 14 years old.  There is a granite mile marker shaped as an obelisk roughly 4 or 5 feet tall that, for reasons unknown, needs to be moved.  The two boys are bragging that they are related to can lift and carry this large heavy stone all by himself.  I find that I can do the same thing, although the dirt that clung to the bottom of the stone is getting my clothes and my shoes dirty. 

Bad Dream 120 -- Morning of 5/6/20

In my dream, I am standing rather high above a river valley -- looking pretty much straight upriver or downriver.  Can't tell which.  It's a beautiful scene with the wide river nestled between to gentle grassy slopes with an occasional stand of trees.  There may have been a few houses, but not many.

Into this lovely image, I see a large passenger airplane flying breathtakingly low.  It's maybe a quarter mile away in front of me.  Its path is directly over the water and following the path of the river as well.  It's maybe 5 or 10 feet above the water as it flies.  I can't hear any sound from the plane, so I imagine that the engines are off and the plane is simply flying "deadstick."

As I watch in both admiration and trepidation, the plane gently drops a little lower until it skims the surface of the water.  I can tell exactly where the plane has touched down, then rises off the surface again by the wake it leaves on the surface of the water. 

It touches down a second time -- much like the first -- and then a third time, where it stays on the surface of the water.  It occurs to me that the pilot has done these "touchdowns" in an effort to lose speed, so that it will come to rest at the slowest possible velocity.  

The pilot is wonderfully successful: not only has the plane avoided capsizing or pitchpoling into the water, but it has skidded to a stop up against one of the banks of the river.  Everyone on board should be perfectly safe.  

Change of scene: I am now standing in a crowd of people who are either passengers just off the plane or passers-by that want to know what's going on or who knows what all else.  There's mild chatter among all these people as they mill around.  No one seems to know what's happening or what to do next.  I simply want to know what happened to cause the plane to make this forced landing and congratulate the captain if I can, but at this point, rumors and made-up stories are likely to abound.  So getting valid information seems unlikely.

I then realize that I'm on the opposite side of the river from where I started. And there are no apparent bridges that will allow me to get back to where I belong.  And swimming across the river is not an option.

I find myself inside a small concrete structure without windows or doors.  A structure that seems to be at the edge of the crowd.  Openings for both windows and doors, but they are wide open to the air.  There are a few people milling around nearby, but nothing like the crowd outside.  

On the concrete floor, there is a channel cut into the floor.  There is water running quietly through the channel.  I know this is river water I'm looking at -- flowing with the current of the entire river.  I realize that if I can get to the other side of this channel, I can easily return to where I belong, but the channel is something like 2 feet across, and if I misstep, I could be swept away.  As I ponder what to do, a man standing nearby approaches the channel and easily steps to the other side.  Easy peasy.  

So I step across the channel.  More easy peasy.  

I wake up.  

Bad Dream 119 -- Morning of 5/2/20

To understand this dream, it's probably important to know two things:

 -- I stopped doing any repair work on my car many years ago.  I just wasn't very good at it -- and the newer the car, the more it needs to be done at a competent garage.

 -- The camera that shows up in the dream is my most recent one: a Canon EOS 5D Mk IV.  People shoot magazine covers and award-winning photos with this camera.  It's a much better camera than I am a photographer.  

Having said that:

In my dream, I am working to repair my car.  I am on the grass-covered ground and working in driver's side front wheel well.  There is a rusty nut holding a rusty bolt into place, and that assembly needs to be taken apart.  I have the appropriate socket on a ratchet wrench, but just enough clearance to get a couple of clicks with the handle before I need to reposition it.  I'm surprised that the nut is coming loose so easily -- I thought I would have to soak the two pieces with a lubricant and let them sit for an hour, so I'm pleased.  I continue moving the ratchet handle back and forth and watching the nut move towards coming off.  

But then, something changes and the nut no longer moves towards coming off the bolt.  And as I turn it more with the wrench, it seems to be counterproductive.  I start trying to figure out what's going on.  

(Major shift in dream images.)

I turn around and sit up on the ground still trying to figure out what the problem with the bolt and nut might be.  I see a pair of young men somewhere in their late teens walking past my work area.  They look at me with a bit of amusement in their faces.  One of them picks up a piece of paper -- clearly litter -- off the ground and looks to do something worthwhile like put it in a trash can when he finds one.  

The guys are walking between me and a table which I have used to hold stuff while working in this area (probably my back yard, but this isn't perfectly clear).  I look over at the table top and realize to my great distress that my camera isn't on the table any more. I chastise myself for leaving the camera unattended.  It's something I simply don't do.  

I don't recall anybody else passing by while I was working, but it might be the case that someone did, helped himself/herself to my camera and continued walking away.  But since I'd probably never have a chance to retrieve it if that's what happened, I confront the two fellows in front of me.  

At first they both absolutely deny having taken my camera.  But I do something (look angry? make a threat?  I don't recall...) which causes them to change their story.  Yes, they did take the camera and they promise to bring it back that evening.

So I'm in a quandary.  I'm upset because I've lost my camera, but I'm hopeful that the two young men in front of me are serious that I will get it back later that day.  But if I do get it back, what will folks have done with it during the day?  Will it even work when I see it again? In fact, will I ever see it (or these two young men) ever again?

I wake up.        

Bad Dream 118 -- Morning of 4/7/20

In my dream, I am in a building that feels like a school-type structure.  I am employed by Leeds & Northrup again.  

I belong to a committee that is somehow associated with L&N.  That relationship is not well disclosed.  There are a total of 3 people on the committee.  And I know that the committee has been pretty disfunctional for some time.  

I have a piece of paper in my hand.  It's that shiny paper that people use for advertising handouts.  It's all printed up nicely, but the contents of the writing are not what holds my interest.  At the bottom of the note, written in red ink -- possibly a Sharpie -- is a message concerning the work of the committee.  It's a short note that winds up something like "Call Joan."  (I think the name was Joan, but I might be mistaken.)  It's not given to me to know whether "Joan" is part of the committee or not.  But either way, she might well furnish what's needed to get the committee's work back on track.

So I realize that getting in touch with "Joan" would be an excellent idea.  And I ask an associate -- who also may or may not be a member of the committee -- for Joan's phone number or other means of contact.  This other person -- who reminds me a bit of Matt Bradley -- talks a great deal describing the situation and other bits that sound salient, but doesn't disclose any information about how to get in touch with her.  

My dream person talks to other people after this conversation, but none of them will give me information about how to get in touch with Joan.  It's not clear to me whether they simply don't know how or whether they're holding back that information.  

I made a few more notes, but they're unfortunately illegible.

After the frustration about getting in touch with Joan, I walk out a side or back door (i.e., not the front door) to the school building and find myself at the top of a fairly steep grassy hill.  It's beautiful outside and feels wonderful to stop thinking and worrying about getting in touch with Joan.  There are steps built into the grass-covered grounds -- each one separate from the others.  They're rather rounded on the front edge, which fits in so nicely with the surrounding area.  

Bad Dream 117 -- Morning of 4/2/20

A couple of things affecting this report:

 -- it happened two mornings ago, so details will have evaporated, and
 -- at this point in time, we're still flailing away at understanding what the novel Coronavirus is all about.  As the infection and death rates start to climb alarmingly.  We get conflicting reports from reputable sources and absolute blather from the Lizard King.   But here goes.

In my dream, I am in a room which functions both as a classroom and as a laboratory.  I am here as an adult student along with maybe a dozen other adult students.  My dream tells me I know them, but I don't think that "knowing" extended back into my waking life.  That is, I don't remember seeing Tommy or Kurt or Ron from my waking life.   

The class has been regrettably extended into a "double period," which means that this session is twice as long as usual.  We're almost through with the first half of this doubled session, but it feels like there's not a lot of material left for the teacher to elaborate on or teach about.

The teacher is explaining something about a small paint sprayer -- it may be like a typical spray can of Rustoleum or somesuch.  As a demonstration, she sprays a number of lines of paint on a sample piece of flat plastic or metal -- maybe four inches wide and ten or twelve inches long.  The material is an off-white, grayish color and the paint is a medium-darkish green.  The paint sprays on in lines and the lines of paint leave a goodly amount of unpainted surface between them.  She is talking about what a smooth finished surface this will look like -- and I don't see any way that will happen, given the extensive unpainted surfaces between the lines of paint.  I am astonished somewhat later to see that the dried painted surface is in fact perfectly covered with the green paint.  A masterful job.  

Since there isn't anything assigned by the teacher and she isn't doing any more presentations, the other students pick up newspapers or magazines and start reading.  They are clearly bored.  

I, on the other hand, try to keep looking busy on classroom stuff, but I'm just making stuff up and don't really have a plan other than looking busy. As I do this, I realize -- not for the first time -- that I don't really belong in this class.  I don't fit.  But I really wish I did.  If I don't fit here, is there any place any where that I might fit?

I walk over to a very utilitarian-looking table which is just four legs, a top surface of unfinished plywood and a second level of the same material underneath -- maybe halfway between the top surface (which has a few unidentifiable things on it) and the floor.  On this second level is an aluminum tray maybe fourteen inches by eighteen inches with sides maybe an inch or so all the way around.  On this tray is the face of a gorilla.  I can't tell whether it is a carved piece of wood or a mask or actually the face of a gorilla which somehow has been removed and placed on the tray.  As I look at it, the tray seems to rotate slowly, spinning on the plywood surface, and/or moving slightly from side to side.  I'm amazed and wondering what this thing is.  I think I wouldn't be surprised if it started moving its eyes and mouth...

I had been bent over somewhat to get a closer look at the gorilla face, but now I stand up straight and start looking around for someone to explain what this thing on the tray truly is.  As I turn around, I see Henry Kissinger standing behind me.  He's been watching me and seems to understand my curiosity about the face.  I don't have to say much or anything before he launches into an explanation.  I can tell by the way he's getting into his "speech" that what he says will be somewhat lengthy and unarguably correct -- but it won't help in the least in understanding what that face really is.  

I look back at the lower level of the table, but the face has disappeared.  

I wake up.  

Bad Dream 116 -- Morning of 3/30/20

In my dream, I am standing in a room -- it feels like a room in an apartment.  There are two other people with me: one switches back and forth from being my sister Martha to being my wife Deb.  The other person is a male Unidentifiable.  

Looking around I see a huge beetle sitting on the side of what looks like a large audio speaker.  It's just sitting there.  It's a shiny black -- and it's the size of the palm of your hand.  It has a pair of large black pincers on the front.  It may be moving back and forth ever so slightly...

I find it charming, but know that the other two people in the room probably won't.  I'm not sure how I can get this critter outdoors, but I know that would be the best thing for the three people and the one arthropod. 

Deb/Martha is moving around in the room and I don't want her to get spooked when she sees this.  So I decide it's best if I tell her about it and show her where it's located at the moment.  Bad decision.  She freaks out and moves away from it.  

(I may at this point in the dream consider how to get my camera ready to take a shot or two before I escort the animal outside.  Not sure -- but it is something I probably would do!)

Between Martha/Deb's rapid movement and maybe some movement on my part, the bug takes off.  Across the floor (I think) and up the far wall.  It stops roughly in the middle of the wall -- which almost feels like an invitation to stop over and trap it for escort outside.

(The way we normally trap a bug to get it out of the house is to take an appropriate sized glass or cup and gently place it over the animal, then slide a card or stiff piece of paper underneath to form a closed container.  And then simply take the container outside and leave it there for a while.  But this bug is so large that it wouldn't fit inside a full-size water glass, much less anything smaller.)

I walk slowly over to the animal and call for Deb/Martha to find a jar that would be large enough.  I have to repeat this request several times, getting more impatient every time I do so.  Martha/Deb finally understands what I need and starts looking around for an appropriate vessel.  She says she's found something that should work, but brings over a plastic bag -- a flimsy piece of plastic like a trash can liner.  

I'm concerned that, even if we were successful in getting the animal into the bag that we would likely damage it as we carried it outside.  But I didn't have any better ideas.  So Deb/Martha stands a bit behind the animal but close to the wall and spreads the bag open and places the edge of the opening tight against the wall.  Hey, maybe this will actually work!  

But we move too fast or something, and the bug takes off again.  We see it scuttle along the wall (a remarkable feat for a bug that big!) and disappear.   

Bad Dream 115 -- Morning of 3/15/20

My dream involves only two people: myself and my younger brother Warren.  I don't recall any unrecognizables or other people, but read on...

In my dream, Warren and I are in a room of some kind.  I don't recall any details about walls, size of room, etc.  Except that I don't think we are in some kind of oversize hall.  There are walls not that far away.  

Warren is telling me about a creature he has experienced.  The creature -- which is bipedal like humans -- comes out of the shadows, does or says something, and then disappears.  (It's not clear to me now whether this creature needs to move back into shadow or whether it just evaporates -- to reappear at some other time and place.  Maybe both.  So it can travel undetected from one shadowed place to another.)  My notes describe this as a "mythical creature."

According to Warren (and my notes), the creature represents an "existential threat" to him and maybe to me as well.  This isn't clear.  

So Warren knows some stuff about this creature, but doesn't know how to destroy it or just make it go away and stop bothering/threatening him.  It seems to be important to Warren that I understand what's going on with regard to this creature.  

My notes indicate that "Warren takes the lead" in this understanding and whatever we need to do about this.  

There then are a few fleeting recollections of being somewhere without Warren and having the creature emerge out of a fold in some full-length curtains or the darkened corner of the room.  It comes at me snarling, but while this is disturbing, I know that it can't hurt me in this setting.  But maybe it could in a different setting.  This feels like it's being presented to me (the real me) as proof that this creature really exists and isn't just a figment of Warren's imagination.  

The scene changes.  Warren and I are now located at a busy highway.  We are standing on the triangle created by an on-ramp merging with the rest of the highway.  Warren continues to be wary about his surroundings and the possible appearance of the creature.  I'm anxious about where we're standing in regards to the traffic.  Both off the entrance ramp and traffic driving on the highway, it doesn't miss us by very much.  And Warren and I are moving around slightly -- and might possibly accidentally get into the way of the traffic.  Warren continues to tell me things about the creature.

(Reading over my notes about this dream, I see the terms "Mythical Creature" and "Existential Threat.")     

Bad Dream 114 -- Morning of 3/5/20

This was an intense but broken up dream I had this morning shortly before waking up.  It has several scenes.

Scene 1: I don't remember much from this part, except just being in a place that nourished me deeply.  And I felt it important to "drink it in" as much as I could, since things were likely to change.

Scene 2: In this part of my dream, I am standing in a compartment of a railroad train, which is moving.  The car swings gently a bit from side to side but doesn't cause me to concern myself about my balance.  I am changing clothes -- I'm sure I'm changing pants and shirt, but not sure it goes to skivvies or sox.  There is a chance that someone may come through the door that connects this car to the next one and my activities would certainly surprise them.  It might be a bit embarrassing -- depending on how far I was into the process of changing clothes -- but nothing worse than that.  

I'm not pleased or happy to be changing clothes, but not that upset.  My first set of clothes are not necessarily dirty or smelly -- it's just that I am required somehow to change clothes.

I think this clothes changing is related to Scene 3.

Scene 3: In this scene I am in this space mentioned in Scene 1.  I am outside, near a large body of water.  The air is warm and pleasant.  The sun is shining, but not unpleasantly bright.  There is/are a few boats out on the water -- fairly  far out so I can't make out any details about them.  There are a few people also enjoying the space and time -- but none of them are close enough to me that I might interact with or overhear them.

I have this growing sense of sadness as I walk slowly around this area that I love so much.  I keep saying in my mind: "I don't want to leave.  I don't want to leave."  But I know that leaving is inevitable.  As in the first scene, I do everything I can to drink in and hold memories, details of this wonderful place...

...knowing that once I go it will be unlikely or impossible to return.


Meaning?  I am on the verge of changing several important parts in my life -- none of which I look forward to, but all of which seem to be inevitable.  I can't tell if this dream is a reflection of one of these partings or several or all of them combined.

This includes my relationship to my Quaker Meeting, the Turks Head Jugglers, performing my juggling and/or my dinosaur talks, relocating from 419 W. Union, my gradual decline in physical health and strength, realizing that I am in the crosshairs of this COVID-19 virus given my age and medical history.

Bad Dream 113 -- Morning of 2/29/20

This dream was unusual(?) in that it had two definite "scenes" with a common story:

In my dream, I am in a small room with someone remindful of Teacher Brian Fahey, a woman who is a Holocaust survivor, and several unrecognizables.  We are planning a trap.  

The woman, who is small and frail, feels that there is a student in a class being taught nearby who took part in perpetrating the Holocaust -- and needs to be called out.  She is ready to take part in springing the trap and, somewhere between Brian and myself, we're supposed to set up the trap.  

The trap consists of starting a conversation about WWII and then bringing the subject around to the Holocaust, concentration camps and related issues.  If we create and execute the trap correctly, the student will identify himself as having been a participant.  (It's not clear to me what happens after that.  Will the culprit be arrested?)

So the details of the trap are not clear to me, but I have faith in the woman and Brian that they understand what's going on and that they will lay and then spring the trap.  So it's not clear at this point in the dream exactly what it is they expect me to do -- to play my part. 

The scene now shifts to the classroom where the action is supposed to take place.  The students -- there are somewhere between 15 and 30 of them -- are in their seats.  Somehow, I know the target of the trap.  He's larger than the other students -- and looks like he's physically powerful.  His clothes are a bit rough and he could use a haircut.  (His hair is black and wavy-to-curly.)  He's wearing a flannel shirt (I think) with the sleeves rolled up.  He's also wearing a look of casual disdain.  

I am standing in front of the class and the woman is seated up front with her chair looking out at the students.  She looks implacable.  

Brian is nowhere to be seen.  

Everyone is expecting me to conduct the class -- maybe just until Brian shows up, I don't know.  I was fully expecting Brian to take the lead in setting up this trap and I'm struggling to figure out how to begin.  Whatever I say or do may initiate the plan or screw it up entirely.  I understand we only have one chance to make this work.  

I pause for a few moments, hoping Brian is planning on making a dramatic entrance -- and taking over the presentation and the trap.  No such luck...

The students -- including our target -- are staring at me rather impassively, as if to say, "We're okay with not doing anything if you're simply planning on not doing anything."  Time is moving along and the success of our planned trap seems to be in jeopardy.  (Did I miss something in our earlier discussions?  Will Brian make any kind of appearance at all?  Will the Holocaust survivor say or do anything?  Is she just waiting for me to start the plan?)

I start to ask the class something like, "What are your recollections of WWII?" but stop when I remember that students this age weren't even alive back then.  So I change the sentence to something like, "What do you remember being told about WWII?"  No response from the students.  

I look at our target.  He doesn't give any impression of being aware of our plan.  So if we/I can figure out how to start, we still might have a successful outcome to our planned trap.

I look off to the sides to see if there's any sign of Brian.

There isn't. 

Bad Dream 112 -- Morning of 1/22/20

This dream came to me several mornings ago, so it's a little short on details:

In my dream, I am in a teaching position -- not well defined.  And I'm standing in an open area -- also not well defined.  

I have two people standing near me, who seem to be students of mine, but that too is not well defined.  One of these two people is Ricky Coburn and the other is an Unidentifiable.

In any case, I am teaching something as a conduit from some other source.  The material is not mine but I seem to be pretty comfortable teaching what I've been told -- somehow -- to teach.  

The two students seem to be paying close attention to what I've been saying, and it is time to change the subject.  I tell them that the next thing I want them to do is to cut open a finger and slice it almost all the way through.  

The cut I'm imagining would be on the left index finger and take place on the first joint with the cut running parallel to the bone.  The objective is to cut through the skin and muscle without cutting through the skin on the other side.  This would show the skill of the person doing the cutting, as he/she knew exactly how deep to cut.  

My students didn't respond negatively to this suggestion.  It's just something else the "teacher" is recommending that they do.  

I guess that I was returning to conscious life around this time, because I began to doubt seriously the wisdom of doing this.  That, even if the incision were performed extremely well, the recovery time would be quite lengthy -- and if the incision were not well done, it could result in permanent damage to the finger.  I recall being surprised -- at this point in the dream -- that my two students didn't recoil quickly from the idea.  I wondered why...

(NOTE:  Ricky Coburn and his family lived quite close to us when I was growing up on Wilson Point.  [Interesting also that this dream took place not far in time to the dream about the young boy crushed by the weird elevator.  That dream also had a reference to Wilson Point.]  We were the same age and were usually in the same class through high school.  We were never friends.  He was pretty smart but not, I think, as smart as I was.  I celebrated the cerebral in life while he wanted to be an important part of our High School's social scene.  Ricky had an older brother [Rusty] who was the same age as my older brother [Richard].  I recall that their relationship was downright antagonistic.)

Bad Dream 111 -- Morning of 1/5/20

In my dream, I'm sitting in a car with my brother Richard.  We're at a stoplight or a stop sign or just pulled off onto the side of the road.  Can't tell which.  But the point is that the car is not moving and I don't think the engine is running.  I am on the left side of the car, which I guess means that I was driving.  We're just sitting here chilling...

I see a small motorcycle pull up beside us.  The design of the bike and its paint job is similar, but it's clearly a smaller displacement engine.  The driver is obviously having considerable difficulties handling the bike.  It comes wobbling to a stop.  The rider is a young man -- and he's clearly frustrated with his efforts to drive the bike smoothly and safely.  

The immediate concern here is that the crossroad at this intersection is quite busy with fairly high-speed traffic.  It's perfectly safe if you have your vehicle under control, which is clearly not the case for the young man.

He looks at the traffic crossing in front of us -- and recognizes the danger of trying to cross the road riding the bike.  He looks at us and says "Help me!"

Richard looks at me as if to say "Okay, you're up!"  

I find myself sitting on the bike looking over the controls.  Now, there is (I'm fairly sure) a standard arrangement of controls: right hand--throttle and front brake + left hand--clutch + left foot--gear shift + right foot--rear brake.  I start to manipulate these controls for familiarity's sake, and the young man tells me I'm doing it all wrong.  That the controls on this bike are located in different places.  He suggests he should just take the bike back from me, but I stare him down and make the appropriate changes in my thinking about which control is located where.  The young man settles down.

The scene shifts to a totally different place.  It feels like the porch to some building or other, but I'm still sitting on the motorcycle, which is pointed towards the open area in front of the porch.  Which is a grassy field.

There is an Unidentifiable sitting on a bike next to me, and the young man is somewhere nearby.  I hear myself saying "Want to see a wheelie?" -- which wouldn't be a good thing to do with the young man standing nearby.  Doing a wheelie is the worst thing I could do, as I want him to learn how to ride a motorcycle safely.  

But I disregard that concern and take off.  I'm not totally certain I know how to handle a wheelstand on this particular machine, but it turns out I have good control of the bike as it scoots along on its rear wheel.  I'm enjoying myself immensely and don't care at the moment for the bad lesson I'm teaching him.  

The dream ends with me riding along on the kid's bike.  On its rear wheel.  

Bad Dream 110 -- Morning of 1/1/20

In my dream, I am in a room of indiscernible size with several other people.  Unidentifiables but male, I'm pretty sure.  We have been working together on a project (no information available here) and it's coming along pretty well.   We seem to be breaking up from a meeting and going our separate ways.  

As people are leaving, a woman stops over to chat with me.  I am sitting down but she is standing.  As we talk, she moves around -- left and right, closer and a little farther away.  She is saying supportive things about the project and the work I've been doing on it.  It occurs to me that she is likely flirting with me.  

As she's talking, the subject gently changes from the project to me.  Given the social ineptitude I've carried with me since I was a child, I'm not really sure how to respond.  But I realize that she is a handsome woman with an attractive figure.  And I'm flattered that she would be paying attention to me.  If, in fact, that's what she's doing.  

As she brings the conversation to a close (as in "Well, I must be going"), she sweeps past me and drops a small piece of paper on the desk/table in front of me.  She may or may not give me an over-the-shoulder backward glance as she heads for the door.  Not sure about this.

The paper is torn from a larger sheet and is somewhat wrinkled.  It has her name on it and what I initially thought would be her phone number.  Now I'm definitely flattered.  And pleased.  

But rather than a phone number, it's a cryptic collection of numbers and/or letters (I forget which) that would require considerable time and concentration to decode.  

I wake up -- fully understanding that I've just had a one-on-one conversation with my Anima.  And it was fun.