Bad Dream 160 -- Fixing a Door with Jackie Gleason

 In my dream, I am in the Social Room of our Quaker Meetinghouse.  There is some repair work being done on the door leading out to the porch -- a problem with the lock.  

The person leading the work is Jackie Gleason.  He's being pleasantly garrulous as he's working.  The door's locking mechanism has been removed, uncovering the hole that allows key access from the outside.  It's a rather large hole, given its purpose -- and very roughly cut out.  Not a great surprise for a door that's probably been "repaired" a dozen times or more over the last 200 years.  

Jackie brings a sabre saw over to the door and tells me to watch carefully and learn something about saws and door locks, etc.  I'm a little surprised that he would want to make this seemingly large hole even larger, but decide not to bring up the subject.  He cuts a line straight up from the hole -- maybe 2 inches long.  Then cuts another one parallel to the first one roughly the same length and moving in the same direction.  

Quickly, there is now a piece of wood almost the size of an open hand removed from the door.  I'm amazed at the skill Jackie has shown and curious as to why he had to do this.  I take the piece of wood over to Deb, who is standing nearby, and show her how neatly it's been cut.  She seems to understand that it's done okay but no recognition from her as to why it's been removed from the door.  

I look at the enlarged hole in the door and realize that it's big enough that the entire lock mechanism would simply fall through the hole.  There's wasn't nearly enough wood to hold the lock in place.   

Bad Dream 159 -- Getting Back with Mary?

 In my dream, I am talking with a friend.  Guy friend.  It's not given where we are.  

He's trying to get better acquainted with a girl I kind of know, but not that well.  But she is a good friend of Mary Maguire -- and he's suggesting we set up a double date: he and the young lady he wishes to know better and I get back in touch with Mary.  I try to explain to him that our relationship was usually stormy.  That while we had, I think, a strong mutual respect, our lives were aimed at considerably different trajectories.  And that this was occasionally painful to me and possibly to her as well.  And so I didn't think an overture to start seeing each other again would not be looked at positively.  So I'm sorry, but I can't help.  Best of luck.  

Well, it turns out that a number of minor characters in the dream also think it would be a good idea for me to make an overture to Mary.  Mainly because it would help my friend and his intended date, but also a good idea overall.  I overhear bits of conversation to that effect: "Do you think Randy's going to do this?  Is he going to cooperate with [friend's name]?  He could really use that help from Randy..."  That kind of stuff.  

After some time of this -- and trying to explain to my friend that he's asking too much of me, but getting counter arguments all the way -- my dream switches to me running down a long hallway.  It is remindful of the major hallway at Leeds & Northrup's main building.  I am enjoying the speed and feeling the breeze on my face immensely.  I come to an intersection and nearly collide with someone walking on the crossing hallway, but deftly maneuver around her at high speed.  This feels great.  

Then I find myself standing still -- I think still in the same hallway -- and I notice Brian Fahey doing some repair/renovation work on a room beside the hallway.  He looks up and smiles a bit and with his demeanor as much as his words, he asks me if I'm going to get in touch with Mary.  This would seem to be important to him, although I can't imagine why.  And once again, I overhear conversations about whether I'm going to get in touch with Mary or not.  This is clearly a big deal for most everyone in the building!

I reiterate aloud  that I have no idea whether Mary would have the slightest interest in getting together again.  And that doing so could simply invite more heartache.  There's nothing to suggest the her trajectory and mine were getting anywhere close.  Not then, not now.

It then occurs to me that it's possible that Mary has cooked up this whole plot.  That she wants to see me again, but doesn't want to come right out and ask.  From what I remember of her, she is perfectly capable of being this clever.  And devious.  I'm flattered to think this is a possibility, but somewhat doubtful that it explains what's going on.  And I start to develop a hope that maybe it is true... and if it is and I let the chance go by without grabbing it...  

When I wake up, what comes to mind fairly quickly is the Grateful Dead's song "Shakedown Street."  I always enjoyed the tune, but the only words I remember are "...used to be the heart of town."

Bad Dream 158 -- Travels with Scott Sampson, etc.

In my dream, I am in a variety of places with a variety of persons.  Very chapteresque.  And a great deal of detail that I'm afraid has evaporated.  

The other "person" in this dream is Scott Sampson, the Architect on our recently completed Meetinghouse renovation project, with a smattering of Zinc, one of my dearest friends and recently departed.

Scott and I have had some kind of falling out recently, but we find ourselves together in a car trip of some considerable distance.  We've kind of patched up whatever the issue(s) was/were in the past, but still a bit wary of each other.  

One stop on our trip is at a small corner restaurant.  Wooden floor, it feels quite homey and inviting.  There is a family standing in front of us to get inside, nice-looking Mom and Dad and one or two kids... and a Canada Goose.  The goose is standing quietly near the kids and it seems to feel it's simply one of the kids -- and the family is perfectly fine with that.  They enter the restaurant, with Scott and me closely behind.  The family is met by a guy who's probably the owner or at least the manager.  He greets the family warmly -- clearly the family are regular customers -- and they stand in the entrance to the dining area chatting amiably.

The owner/manager reaches into one of his pants pockets and takes out a morsel of food and holds it out for the Goose.  The Goose is obviously well practiced in this, as it holds its head straight up and lets the food fall into its mouth.  This happens several times.  Everyone looks pleased about this, including Scott and me.  The owner then moves over to Deb (who just showed up in the dream) and hands her a couple of morsels of food.  The Goose "gets this" and moves over to Deb and stretches its head and neck up to receive the food.  This pleases everybody as well.  Then it is Scott's turn, and that works out well.  Then the Goose looks at me and walks over to stand in front of me.  I haven't been given any morsels of food, so I reach down and gently embrace the Goose -- who doesn't seem to mind, thank goodness!  I am amazed how soft and pleasant the birds feathers are.  It seems to be a pleasure for both me and the Goose.  

The scene shifts now to an old apartment building.  I am standing inside talking with an old lady about (something I forget!).  I seem to have lost contact with Scott, and I think my conversation with this lady include trying to reconnect with him.  As I go to leave and am now back on the sidewalk, the old lady tells me to tell (somebody) that the small park? parking lot? simply isn't going to work and they should stop trying to make it work.  This is obviously an issue for her, although it didn't have anything to do with our previous conversation.  Our car is parked near a corner of two busy streets, and I'm concerned that neither Scott not I can leave via the car separately and abandon the other.  We're a long way from home and would have no other way of getting there.  

I'm also a bit concerned that the car is parked near the corner and is vulnerable to getting sideswiped by another vehicle making a turn at the intersection.  This does not happen.

The scene shifts again and I am in another restaurant, but one with the same homey feel of the previous one.  Scott is there with someone else -- who turns out to be an old friend of his, and he had left me to track down this other guy and spend time with him as the old friends they were.  I am standing, but the two of them are sitting down and eating.  The meal for each consists of a large, very appetizing looking sandwich.  I want to voice my opinion that Scott shouldn't have just walked away without explaining what he was doing, but he holds out a third sandwich to me -- clearly one that he bought for me.  It looks equally appetizing, and I accept that things have turned out okay and I should set aside any grudges or hard feelings.  The sandwich is tuna fish salad, and it smells wonderful!

Bad Dream 157 -- Saving Ken Taran

I should note that, like so many dreams I've had here at Crosslands, this one was rich in detail and quite vivid -- and I can only remember the "bare bones" of the dream.  That said, here we go:

In my dream, I am in a rather nondescript building and, I think, in the lobby section.  In any case, I'm in an fairly open area with a terrazzo-type floor.  And sitting on that floor is Ken Taran -- and he looks to be in pretty bad shape.

Now I think the important thing about it being Ken is that he gave me my first big break in getting a serious technical job -- doing things I truly enjoyed and that I was good at.  He was interviewing me for a technical trainer position, for which my credentials didn't match up at all well.  I could tell he was about to say: "Thanks a lot for coming in, but we were really looking for someone..." so I took a chance at saying something that showed clearly that I understood what he wanted and that I could supply that.  He frowned at me, then slowly said: "Yeaaaah, that's right.  That's exactly right."  As if it was a conceptual notion he had never considered -- but was spot on,  And he gave me the job -- which I kept for over 15 years.  

So the point being, seeing Ken in such an unhappy situation gets me quite distressed.  I ask the few people around me: "What can we do?  What should we do?" and get no answer.  Clearly, if anyone was going to help poor Ken, it was me.  

(Here's where the dream recollection gets fuzzy.)

I pick Ken up -- which is remarkable in and of itself, because the real Ken Taran is tall and well built.  In "real life" I could never pick him up and hold him in my arms the way I do in this dream.  And I carry him to a place where I think he will at least be more comfortable.  How I can address whatever it is that has made him so weak and depleted is something I simply don't know.  

Somehow in this dream, a doctor shows up, He is young and quite handsome and beams with self confidence.  He looks at Ken and me and tells me that he knows what to do -- not just to make Ken better but to save his life.  (I have been noticing that Ken seems to be getting weaker as I carry him from place to place.) 

Saving him requires getting him to a large boat or small ship moored some distance from the land where we are.  I carry Ken to a concrete dock/pier/wharf while the doctor retrieves a small boat that he will use to carry Ken to the boat moored in the harbor.  

The doctor's dinghy is ridiculously small and the doc is paddling or rowing it over to where I'm standing.  Miraculously, we transfer Ken from my arms to the small dinghy and the doc starts moving towards the larger boat.  

I'm not convinced that the doctor's plan will save Ken, but I know that giving Ken to the doc was the best -- and in fact, only -- possible plan to save him.  

Bad Dream 156 -- Eagles at the Old Homestead

In my dream, I am standing in the front yard of 1209 Tupelo Place -- the house where I was brought up from the age of five until I left for college.  

Much to my amazement, there is a Bald Eagle in a small tree close to the street.  It's a beautiful bird -- all turned out in its white-and-black best plumage.  He/she is standing next to a pile of leaves in the tree and pulling/resorting the leaves in what seems to be a purposeful series of motions.  Is it working to start a nest?  Is it looking for something inside?  Can't tell.

I start towards the house to tell my folks about the wonderful sight.  On my way, I look slightly off to my left and realize there is a huge nest there, maybe five feet across.  It's not made of sticks, the way you would expect to see on a typical birds nest.  Instead, it seems to be possibly hardened mud or other something like it.  I know, however, that this is an Eagle's nest and probably the nest of the birds I have just seen.  

I'm a little fuzzy on whether or not I actually point these birds and nest things out to my dad.  If I did, he didn't give much of a reaction.  Like he already knew this.

Bad Dream 155 -- In Cuba with Deb

In my dream, Deb and I are visiting Cuba.  We are standing on a wide concrete jetty or pier looking out towards the water.  

There are maybe 50 or 100 people in front of us, standing in our sight line to the water,  Everyone is standing quite still -- and the scene makes us curious.

We worm our way between people until we can see the water clearly -- and understand why everyone is standing so still.  They are in awe of what they see.  The water is a breathtaking crystal blue, just a bit short of iridescence.  A bit brighter than Robin's Egg blue.

People are standing roughly 8 or 10 feet from the water, and there are a couple of uniformed personnel off to the left who, it would seem, are responsible for keeping people away from the edge of the water.  I don't realize that yet and so approach the edge of the jetty/pier to get the closest look I can.  

I realize that the water is not very deep but running extremely fast.  The stream is quite wide -- maybe 75 feet or so.  It's clear to me that, if you should fall into the water, you would be swept away, and that's why the constabulary are there.  Realizing this, I walk back from the edge to the line that everyone else has formed -- at a respectable distance from the water.  

Shortly after I go back in line, a young boy goes forward to the edge of the water.  I'm a bit concerned that he's simply following my example.  The gendarmes don't try to get the boy to get back away from the edge, which surprises and puzzles me.  After, it would seem, satisfying his curiosity about the water, the boy returns safely to the crowd.

The scene changes a bit, and the crowd seems to be dispersing.  I don't know why.  I see a young boy -- quite possibly the one who had approached the water -- standing next to an elderly many who is probably the child's grandfather.  I go over to the boy and explain to him how dangerous it was to stand that close to water moving that rapidly, but he doesn't react to what I'm saying.  And grandfather doesn't react either.  

Maybe I'm lecturing the wrong kid.  Maybe neither one of them speak English.  Maybe they think I should mind my own business.  

The dream leaves me with a vivid image of the rushing, sparkling-blue water.   

Bad Dream 154 -- Window Fans: Where and Why

When we lived at 419 W. Union Street, our hot summer days were made much more bearable by the strategic placement of large window fans.  The brackets for the fans covered the entire window opening so that there was minimal "backflow" around the fan.  It was fun figuring out the best path for the air -- coming in on the ground floor windows, curving around the stairs to go up and being exhausted out the upstairs windows.  Meaning the fan downstairs blew air in and the one upstairs pulled the air out.  Opening and closing rarely used room doors increased the effectiveness of the system.  

In my dream, I am back at 1209 Tupelo Place with my Mom and Dad.  (1209 was also a two-story dwelling, so my fan approach should be equally effective.  In fact, my Dad had place a similar fan in the upstairs window which looked directly down the staircase.  This was probably my inspiration for my setup at 419.)

My dream probably "takes place" in the summer because I'm concerned that 1209 only has a fan upstairs -- and not one on the ground floor to help push the cool morning air in.  

I ask Mom, "Where's the downstairs fan?  What happened to it?" and she tells me, "Oh, we got rid of it.  We didn't need it."  I start to explain the air path we're looking for to her, but she's not interested in hearing about it.  Dad had been hanging around behind Mom, and he senses this is not going well and that he's going to leave.  Which he does.  

I get pedantic on Mom explaining in excruciating detail how the air comes in here and goes out there and that the warmest air drifts up the stairs to be replaced by cooler air from outside on the ground floor windows yadda yadda.  She's listening politely, but I know she's firm in her opinion that the downstairs fan is unnecessary.