Bad Dream 234 -- Making a Pitch to Myself

In my dream, I am "making a pitch" to a group of folks.  This is something I did occasionally in my waking life when I was working at Woodward Governor and -- kinda -- working at MAX Controls. 

I represent a company that is looking to install a new system in an existing facility that will improve the customer's overall performance.  That company is looking at several different firms for this work -- or simply continuing using the system that they are using now.  I've been sent to this meeting to answer questions about how our system worked and what benefits that company might achieve if they purchased our system.

The company's personnel represent several different functions of that company; and it was fairly apparent by their "work clothes" -- that is, everything from blue-collar tradesmen to folks wearing dress shirts and ties.   

It's clear by the comments and questions that they are asking me that there is some skepticism on the part of several attenders.  That's okay, because it suggests they'll give me a real chance to explain our system and point out what advantages it represents to each of the groups represented.  

Having done this work a number of times, I recognize that "overselling" our product will damage my chances of "making a sale."  People can tell when you're just "blowing smoke," and that undercuts anything else you might say.  So I'm careful to keep my presentation within the limits of what the system can do.  Phrases like "I don't know, but I'll find out and get back to you." and "No, I'm afraid our system won't do that." increase my chances of being accepted and approved by my audience.  

It's a tough but fair audience and their questions are legitimate and show they're really paying attention to what I'm saying. 

I don't know whether I've persuaded anyone about anything or convinced anyone that they should purchase our system, but I feel quite comfortable that I've represented my company fairly and in the best possible light.                                                                                                                                          

 

 

 

Bad Dream 233 -- I'm Warren's Brother

In my dream, I'm attending a "Peewee Football" game, where all the players are around 8 to 12 years old.  They are all dressed in complete American football gear -- so this is not just a pick-up game.  It's a very "formal" event.  Deb (I'm pretty sure it's Deb) and I are sitting on the sideline, on what appears much more to be church benches than sports spectator chairs.  

The first part of the dream -- and the major one -- has Deb and me trying to sit in the right place to see the game.  Since there are no risers, anyone not in the front row will likely have a partially blocked view of the action.  And I really want to see everything.  I guess Deb didn't understand that, as she took a seat 3 or 4 benches back.  (Since the benches are very close to the action on the field, her decision makes sense.  She won't get clobbered by some small kid running at full speed.)  I go to her and explain my interest to her and she and I go the front bench, where some folks are already seated.  I find myself sitting next to a large, very powerfully built black man.  There's enough room for me to sit there, but not by much.  I feel I should start a conversation with him, but he doesn't appear to want to engage in chit chat.  

There are several segments of Deb and me sitting here or there, but finally we're sitting side by side on the front bench with a perfect view of the players.  (I'm no longer sitting next to the big guy.)  The players seem to be running through some warm-up drills prior to the game actually starting.  

One of the players walks over to us -- just a little bit hesitant as he's walking.  He stands in front of me and says something like:

"Excuse me, but I was noticing your face and how much it looked like Warren.  Are you related to him?"  (Warren being my youngest brother -- and currently the only brother who's still living...) 

I'm lightly stunned, as I never thought I looked that much like Warren, But I'm also impressed with this young man's overall demeanor and his perspicacity.  I acknowledge that I am his brother, and the young man walks back to his teammates.   

As he walks away, my mind is swimming with thoughts as to how to consider what's just happened.  I'm very fond of Warren, but recognize that he's lived his life into several severe problems (marriage, finances, career).

Is this a sign of something I should be doing or stop doing?

Bd Dream 232 -- What? Another One?

 I have a recurring theme to my dreams: and that is being in a classroom with a test being given.  And, for reasons that are occasionally mine -- but not always -- I am unprepared to do well.  On one occasion the instructor (who's often female in my dreams) spoke in a language that I was totally ignorant of.  And all the rest of the students understood her perfectly well.  She was giving instructions as to how to complete the test...  In others I was simply unprepared.  But in both cases, the rest of the class was ready to complete the test with few if any problems.  

In this case, the instructor had handed out a paper with a set of challenging but interesting questions several weeks ago.  I thought the questions would be fun to work on.  Someday.  But had just filed the paper away to work on other projects.  In fact, we were to have a test -- today!! -- on all those questions.  And, of course, all the other students in the class had understood this and had spent time away from class working on the questions.  

I felt I had a chance to give correct answers to some of the questions -- possibly enough of them to get a passing grade -- but certainly some of the questions would require significant time and preparation to answer.  

I picked a question that required the student (me) to fill in numbers in a Sudoku-style matrix.  And the matrix was to be drawn as part of the test.  I tried several times to draw a proper matrix, but sometimes the squares were too big and sometimes too small and other times drawn with the wrong writing instrument (e.g. a pen vs a pencil).  

I went through several sheets of paper trying to get the right size and shape of a matrix.  When I ripped off one particular piece of paper, I found that it had been the last one in the pack.  Fortunately, (?) I had another pack of paper, but it was a different size and color from the one piece of paper that had some partial responses to some of the other questions.  

As is often the case in these dreams, the teacher called "Time's up!  Please hand in your paper." when I was still essentially trying to get started.  The class ended and the students filed out, some of them handing in their paper at the last possible moment, suggesting that they weren't done.  Whereas I had barely started.  

After everybody -- including the teacher -- had left, I realized that I had answered a couple of questions and might at least get a "D" instead of an "F."  A friend magically appeared and offered to help me track down the lady (not the teacher) who had collected the papers so that I could submit my meager effort.  

The chase after the lady went to a terminal for trains or busses or something.  It was quite crowded.  My friend and I called out the lady's name -- and finally got a shouted-out response from the lady we'd been chasing.  We looked around feverishly to find her so I could submit my paper, but the crowd was tightly packed and we didn't have a fixed idea as to exactly where she was.  But we knew that the lady had every right to ignore us and get on her transportation and leave.  

I think I was awakened by the alarm at this point.  

Bad Dream 231 -- Missing My Airline Flight Because...

My dream starts with my family members and me at the airport.  They are here to see me off to a business occasion at some really nice place or other.  Convention, sales meet

I think it was one of my siblings -- probably David -- who set up my flight arrangements, and I didn't check with him on the details until now.  Letting him set this up seemed to be really important to him.  

So there are 4 or 5 of us gathered around me as I stand near a wall, and I ask my brother what my flight time departure was.  He told me the plane left in 15 minutes.  Now, we're in the first section of the airport -- nowhere near any departure gates.  And at this point, I don't even know which airline he selected.  So I can't even sprint madly towards the departure gate, since I hadn't a clue as to which direction in which to run.  

I ask him, as calmly as I can, which airline he was dealing with.  He wasn't sure.  I ask him to remind me which city I was supposed to fly to.  He didn't recall.  

My rising panic is met with an equivalent calmness: True I was going to miss my flight (and I recall that there were "opening ceremonies" scheduled for all of us who were attending this event.  So I will likely miss most or all of them.)  This will not go over with Corporate Management, as they had invested considerable funds to make this event something really nice.  And expensive.  

BUT there is nothing I can do except try to find the next flight and go from there.  Panic would only interfere with clear thinking on how to best handle this situation.  

I open my carry-on luggage to find my ticket -- to tell me where I should be headed.  A sensible step one.  To my great surprise, my ticket doesn't identify the destination city.  Or the time of the flight.  Or the airline scheduled to make the flight.

Okay, maybe now is the right time to start panicking.

I repeat my questions to my brother: What airline?  What city?  He's terribly embarrassed, as he wanted to prove something by handling my travel arrangements.  He still can't recall anything or any paperwork that might have the answers.

Somewhere along the line, a stranger stops to "help" me.  He nods his head and tells me that he understands that I'm looking to get the cheapest air fare and the best seating.  I tell him that, if the ticket cost $1000, that would be okay by me.  He shrugs his shoulders a bit and wanders off.  

I start rifling through the carry-on looking for any hint or where I should be headed.  If I could find sun block, it would suggest the meeting was somewhere in the south.  A bathing suit would suggest a shoreside event -- but not necessarily.  

Nothing in the bag helps me identify where I should be headed or anything like that.  

Bad Dream 230 -- Playing and/or Playing

In my dream, I am sitting on a rug on the floor of what feels like someone's house.  There's a gathering taking place at some distance from where I'm sitting -- and I'm retiring from that group.   As I do so often, I just want to get away from the buzz of conversation -- light, pleasant, superficial chitchat.  

I have a deck of cards and I plan to play a couple of games of solitaire before figuring out what to do next.  I really don't want to join the babble of conversation over there, but can't think of anything else to do. 

I start to lay out the cards for my first solitaire game, when a "friend" stops by to chitchat.  Oh boy.  I know this guy somewhat and am not that fond of him but he occasionally tries to chat me up.  Since he sees me trying to play a card game, he takes it on himself to start blathering on about cards and card games.  He has in his possession, several playing cards that I recognize as coming from my pack.  And since many/most card games require all 52 cards to play, his current holding of several of the cards from my deck wrecks my chance of playing my game.  

Someone else shows up, and the two of them begin chattering away in a conversation about playing cards -- a conversation that would allow me in but is concerning nothing in which I'm interested.  But I do remember something else that I could/should get involved with.  I gotta go.   

I leave my spot and walk a short distance down what feels like a hallway. I enter a large open room where there are a considerable number of people moving about, getting ready to put on a play.  (Fussing with costumes, applying makeup, and so forth.)  There's a nice feeling of excitement in all the preparations and I feel I'm an important part of it.  That is, I have a role to play in the performance.  Not necessarily the lead, but an important role nonetheless.  This may be a Shakespeare play, given the costumes that people are wearing, and I'm wearing black tights.  

Two young women approach me with my "tunic" or shirt or whatever.  It's white and seems to be made of a light cotton.  There's some image on the front that I don't quite get a good look at.  The two young women are amused -- they I should be concerned that my nipples might get aroused and visible through the shirt material.  

I'm okay with their amusement.  And I wake up.

Bad Dream 229 -- Finding the Flow

This dream showed up shortly before waking this morning.  I had awakened at 6:00 and went back to sleep and was awakened by Alexa at 8:00.  It's somewhat fragmented, but it felt important to record what I recall:

In my dream, I am in my car starting to drive home from some unidentified event.  I get down to a road I think I know, but am confused as to which way to go.  I recognize the size and shape of the road, but I have never entered that road at this point.  

I take what I feel is the right direction, but find myself in the wrong direction, as I see a lot of cars ahead with headlights rather than taillights.  I turn around and start in the other direction.  The dream shows me to be on a two-lane road sometimes and a four-lane divided highway at others, but it feels like the same road anyway.

Still not sure as to which direction to go, I pull off the road when I remember that my phone has a compass app -- which will clearly identify the direction I should take.  East or west.  When I park my car in the small parking lot of some place of business, I get out of the car and reach into my pocket for my phone.  What I find is a real compass, which I recognize from my teenage years, and this pleases me a great deal.  After identifying true north on my hand-held compass, I think I also call up the app to double-check.  Totally unnecessary, but I fell this is some kind of minor celebration: all alone by myself, I have figured out which direction in which to go.  

I get back in the car and head in the original direction in which I was travelling.  Yes, this feels right.  

Through the magic of dreams, my car has now transformed into a bicycle, (my orientation early on was that the right direction was left to right -- but now the right direction feels right to left, but it is still the one I initially chose) and I am pedaling easily down a comfortable two-lane road that runs parallel to the Susquehanna River.  It is now one of those glorious moments when everything seems to be right and blessed.  The river is unspeakably gorgeous and I feel wonderful.  

I see a sign for a donut shop ahead, and decide to pick up a donut and coffee to make the wonderful moment even more so.  I pull into the parking lot and get off my bicycle.  I have been considering getting a single donut for this moment's nourishment or three donuts: one for the moment plus two for future nourishment.  I notice that one of the pedals is missing from my bike, which is a surprise because I hadn't noticed this while I was pedaling.  I make a mental note to get a new pair of pedals from my favorite bike shop when I get home - and possibly consider a brand new bike.  

The donut shop is a very small "Mom and Pop" outfit, and I notice quickly that there are very few donuts available and very few display spots for donuts at any time -- and all the donuts are in a single tray behind the counter.  Not my favorite style of donut, but that's okay.  I mentally prepare my order as the nice older lady behind the counter starts to come over to me.  

I wake up to Alexa's alarm.

Bad Dream 227 -- Richard wants to burn down the house

This dream is a bit sketchy.  It came to me that way...

In my dream, I am standing in the house Deb and I owned for several decades -- that would be 419 W. Union Street in West Chester.  It was built in the very early 20th century and we were both very fond of it.   

I'm simply standing in the house as several people are moving about.  It turns out that my older brother Richard has a plan to burn the house down.  He's been trying to convince our mother that it would be a good idea, as there would be a financial benefit after the fire is done its work.  Mom is not convinced, but has decided not to interfere with Richard's plans as he is probably right.  Typical of her.  

At one point, Richard slows down his moving around to explain to me how this plan will work.  He talks rapidly, and there's a certain logic to what he says, but I recognize several assumptions he's made in his analysis that are unlikely to work or be true.  But if Mom (and other family members?) are not going to interfere, I realize that there's nothing I can do.  

The fire starts in the upper part of the house.  And I think "Well, at least the fire will take some time to burn down to the lower levels, so the actual inferno won't be as large -- at any given time -- as it might have been if he had started it on the ground floor or basement."

Somewhere along the way, I realize that most all of my belongings are still in the house and will be completely destroyed in the blaze.  I'm highly distressed about this.  Richard's plan is about the house and it doesn't include my stuff.  I move around to try and collect my most precious (emotionally, not financially) items but only come across a couple members of the Zoo Gang.  And those I pick up.

Even though I thought the fire had started in the upper parts of the house, at one point, I see smoke rising lazily through the boards of the flooring into a room that isn't on fire yet.

As the indications appear that the fire is growing, I think/hope that Richard may be right.  But I find it highly unlikely.

Bad Dream 226A -- Djembe or Donuts? -- Analysis

My first "key" into this dream was the feeling that the dream pivots at the empty building and my brief discussion with Al Meador.  When I enter the building, I am in  search of a Djembe.  When I leave, I'm in search of a donut shop.

THE OFFICE -- the office seems to represent my everyday humdrum(!) existence.

WHY A DRUM? -- in addition to the "humdrum reference mentioned above, the other potential wordplay reference is quite possibly Thoreau"s reference to a "different drummer."  As I continue to consider and try to understand introversion.   

THE EMPTY BUILDING -- this seems to represent the here-and-now.  The room has been used significantly in the past, but is now empty -- awaiting a new usage.  

AL MEADOR -- A student I knew at Drexel.  Wonderfully smart in a whole variety of fields and a great but subtle sense of humor.  He was -- and hopefully sitll is -- a polymath.  I might qualify as a superficial polymath. 

BUYING DONUTS FOR OTHERS -- It may mean something that I'm abandoning getting a drum for myself in favor of getting donuts for others. 

SHABBY DONUT SHOP -- What's in here has been here for a long time.

CHAOS IN THE DONUT SHOP -- My various "parts."  Some making donuts, some ordering and eating donuts. 

YOUNG PRETTY WAITRESS -- See below.  

CHANGE WITHOUT AN ORDER -- Reward for things I haven't done yet?  Things that I did and "paid for" without recalling what/which?  OR I can't expect any help from my various "parts" to get donuts?  With help from Regina, the possible wordplay of "change."  As in moving from this to that.  And that is part -- or maybe most or all -- of what I would get from feeding donuts to those people.  And my waitperson walks away because it's now on me to consider and pilot that change. 

  

   

Bad Dream 226 -- Djembe or Donuts?

My dream starts with me in some kind of office setting.  There's not much detail here, which is okay because I'm on my way out.  Shortly into my dream, I realize that having a Djembe would be an excellent thing.  (Like the office setting, the reason for this is a bit vague.  I know I would play it myself, but there are other reasons involving other people.  No details available.)

So I leave the office and go downstairs to the street level and across a backstreet or alley -- taking a shortcut to a store where I think I can buy a Djembe.  My shortcut takes me into a building that is quite empty but looks like it was heavily used at some previous time.  Dusty, dirty, well-worn.  Crossing to the other door of this room -- to get out towards a more major road -- I come across Al Meador, who is not surprised to see me.  While I am astonished to see him.  

Al explains to me why it would be an excellent thing for me to purchase a dozen or so donuts and take them to a place we both seem to know populated with people we both know.  Clearly, this would garner favor with those folks, but I'm not clear as to what good that good will would do for me.  He then suggests a donut shop which is only a block or two away.  He assures me that it's an excellent donut shop.  He gives me directions, which I understand and might well know that donut shop, although I can't recall ever going inside.   

I leave the building in the direction that Al suggested and soon find myself in front of the donut shop.  It looks rather shabby, but clearly occupied.  

When I get inside, I see the place seems quite chaotic.  It's difficult to impossible to figure out who's an employee and who's a customer.  I walk over to a guy who's actually making donuts and try to place an order.  He's mildly irked I would ask him such a thing and redirects me to a counter.  I take a seat there, and the waitress -- a young and pretty girl -- places a handful of change (coins and bills) in front of me and announce that this is my change from my order.  I explain to her that it must be someone else's change since I haven't  placed an order yet.  She looks embarrassed unsure as to what to do.  She announces this must be my change since there's no one else whose change it might be.  So she leaves the change in front of me and walks away towards other customers.  

Bad Dream 225 -- Where's the Office?

In my dream, I am standing outside in some city-type environment -- not doing anything special.  I see a young man nearby who is asking directions from passers-by.  He reminds me of Pickles from my time at University Camp for Boys -- that is, a pleasant enough 40-year-old-man stuffed into a 14-yearr-old body.

I overhear some of what he's looking for, but none of the folks he's asking seem to know the place in question.  But I'm pretty sure I do know. So I walk over to him and point to a large office buidling on the other side of the street, somewhat set back from the road.  In fact, some of the building is hidden from our sight by another building of equivalent style and size of the building I'm pointing to.  

Since I don't have anything else to do and I've already given him these instructions, I decide to go with him to see if we can find the office/business that he's looking for.  We cross the street and enter the building I pointed out.  The building is clearly designed for a considerable number of independent businesses -- and it has a large "open atrium" design.  The structure and decort in this main lobby are quite impressive: Beautiful stone flooring and walls and brass fittings everywhere.  And everythig is as neat as a pin.

The lobby is quite busy, with suited business types moving quickly from place to place.  It feels like a beautifully appinted train station full of people on their separate missions.  I'm still pretty sure we're in the right place, and that the office my newfound friend is seeking is somewhere on an upper floor in this building.  

All of a sudden, I realize that I've forgotten the name of the business/office that my friend is looking for.  So I ask him, but he seems to have forgotten as well.  I think he may be overwhelmed by the size and commotion of the lobby.  He shrugs his shoulders.  He goes over to a wall-mounted directory -- I guess to refresh his mind as to where he wanted to go.  I feel that, if I concentrate, I can recall the name as well.  And I'm feeling a bit guilty in having brought the young man over here and not able to help him complete his task.  

I concentrate on recalling the name we're looking for and block out, as best I can, the noise and commotion around me.  I recall the "sound" of the name and a few of the letters.  And then the name pops into my mind.  I go over to my friend and announce the name:

"We're looking for Amnesty International!"  

I wake up.    

Bad Dream 224 -- The Slip Knot Doesn't Work

In my dream, I have just discovered a quick and easy way to tie a Slip Knot.  The normal way requires three or four motions but this way requires only two.  And, in either case, you didn't need access to either end of the rope to tie it.  

I tie it and untie it several times, just to confirm that the procedure does in fact produce a legitimate Slip Knot, and then prepare to show it to a friend.  In my mind, the knot produced will be useful in securig a rope to support a tent or other equivalent tasks.    

I tell that to my friend about this discovery and then try to repeat the tying procedure I had been practicing.  It doesn't work.  I try to recall the exact procedure I've discovered, but the images in my mind don't result in the knot I want.   So I tie the knot iin the normal way, and it works just fine.  I show the result to my friend and tell him about its use in holding up a tent.

My friend expresses doubt on this point -- although I don't recall whether he says anything or just frowns -- but in either case, he walks away.

After he's gone, I recreate the Slip Knot (but don't recall which way) and, in looking more closely at the path of the rope to make the knot, realize that it's totally useless forf securing a tent or any equivalent use.  

At the right time and in the right place, a Slip Knot can be quite useful -- moreso than any other know I know -- but in this case, it's useless.  

Bad Dream 223 -- Sailboat Hardware

In my dream, I am in a town -- possibly Philadelphia -- with friends -- maybe 5 or 6 -- sightgeesing and just having a good time.  I, however, have a new sailboat in the nearby water. And I want to understand getting the boat ready to sail (seting the mast, etc.).  I don't plan on sailing it anywhere, just make sure that I understand how to set the mast and which tools, if any, I'm going to need. 

So I suggest to my friends that they visit some of the nearby buildings -- some of which have historical importance and some of which are just nice places to visit -- while I work on getting to know my sailboat.  The hull is in the shallow water and/or on the sandy beach.  That seems to change in the dream.  

The boat has both shrouds and a forestay -- typical of a small sloop.  And the standard way of stepping the mast is to secure the shrouds on either side of the boat, then set the mast and secure the forestay.  Since the top ends of the shrouds are secured to the mast -- also quite typical -- I look to secure the two shrouds with the hardware provided.  To my surprise, that hardware is tiny compared to what a typical boat that size would have.  It looks far more appropriate for a neckalce than a sailboat.  And, sure enough, I drop some of this tiny hardware onto the sand.  And, of course, it's not visible sitting on the surface of the sand, so finding it now becomes more important than learning how to step the mast.  I know that I can get in touch with the boat manufacturer and get replacement hardware, but I really want to learn about the boat here and now.  

(I return to remembering that I can order replacement hardware from time to time as my dream continues.)  

So I start searching in the sand, hoping to see the sunlight glint off of the metal and doing a minimal amount of disturbing the surface.  After a while of this, my friends have returned and are quite happy to help look for the missing hardware.  This I recognize is a blessing and a curse at the same time: someone might actually find the missing parts, but everyone working together is equally likely to bury the parts under the sand's surface.  

My sister has decided to go play with the sailboat hull, pushing it through the shallow water and hopping onboard.  She might well hit a rock or run it ashore and scratch the finish of my brand-new sailboat, but I stifle a warning to her, as she seems to be having such a good time.  

As I participate in the search for the errant hardware, I come across the casing for a bullet of a small-caliber pistol.  It looks to be the size of a .22 LR, but the open end of the casing is narrowed down a bit, like a much larger cartridge would have it.  I turn the casing to the back end, hoping to see the printing identifying its type, but while I can read the writing, it doesn't speicifically call out its identity.  

I go back to "helping" my friends look for the hardware.  

Bad Dream 222 -- Dog Poop

I am doing something at the start of my dream that takes me outside.  I can't recall what that was, but it might be feeding the neighborhood birds.  

I am on the sidewalk that leads to my ancestral home in Baltimore, but I am walking away from the house.  I notice there is a significant pile of dog poop on the right side of the walk.  I consider several ways to pick it up and get rid of it, but decide to purchase a dog poop scoop to handle the situation.

The scene shifts and I am now leafing through a general purpose catalog of home supplies, etc.  I go to the index at the back of the catalog to look for a scoop.  There's nothing listed for dog poop scoopers directly, but I think it may be too specific and so I leaf through the catalog to see if it is available as an item in a larger category, such as "Pet Supplies," "Yard Cleanup" and the like.  I go to those topics that I find listed that might contain a poop scooper -- but to no avail.  I find this both amusing and irritating at the same time.  The search has taken on a life of its own.  

I know there's a pretty young woman who would like to spend time with me, and all I need to do is get back in touch with her is call her and I can visit.  And that visit would be quite pleasant, as it always is.  But the search for the poop scooper has taken priority over this.  

I know that simply calling up Amazon on my phone will solve the problem, and I plan on doing that.  

I wake up.   

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.