mjh's blog

Press 3-5

In the dream, I entered a large room for a meeting. I approached a podium to check in. A woman said, “Press 3 – 5.” I looked at the top of the podium, which featured a large joystick on the left and three buttons at the bottom: [345] [3] [345]. The guy in front of me stared dumbly at the controls. I pushed him aside, but also stared without comprehension at the maddeningly dream-like interface. A guy (that guy?) said, “There’s the [5] button,” pointing to an area above the others, mixed in with buttons of various types, none of which had characters I remember.

At that point, I *felt* the involvement of a part of my mind that wasn’t caught up in the dream. That part speculated this was a test. I imagined – I did not see in the dream, but imagined about the dream – that there was a small screen, one line tall, a few characters wide and that whoever could perform the instructions despite this absurdly adverse setup would be selected. (For what?)

Later, awake, and telling the dream to Merri, I wondered if the guy I pushed out of the way was me. Not just in the sense of “you are everyone you meet in a dream.” Impatient with my own failing, I pushed myself out of the way. But I think the voice that identified the [5] was not the external narrator who hijacked the dream.

School Bus (a dream)

I looked out the front door of our house to see a school bus across the street. The bus driver was Gail Joralemon (a friend). A very long leash trailed out the driver’s window to Luke (our new dog), who was trotting around – and under – the bus. I ran down the street, not behind the bus but on a course to intercept it at the stop sign at the corner. I could see Gail in the review mirror the whole time I ran. She turned her head and saw me as she slowed to a stop.

- – - – -

In telling this dream to Merri, I suddenly realized that my house was on the east side of the street in the dream, but the west side in the real world. Mirror dream (in more than one way).

Drive (a dream)

I was riding in the backseat of my Mom’s convertible. Robert Coontz was driving – and fast! Smithka was in the other front seat – or was it Merck? He (whichever) asked me how things are going. I replied, “I’ve been having a lot of dreams lately.” I added, “often transcendental,” wondering if I’d chosen the right word.[*] Robert zipped through generic narrow East Coast streets. I realized he was going the wrong way down a one way street. As the road curved right, Robert yelled, “almost missed it!” and pulled hard left, leaving the road. I thought I was going to die as we crashed through bushes to a stop.

Standing outside the car, I was trying to gather a mess of colorful strings and rags (parachute? hammock?). Michal Patten walked up and said something. I woke up.

[*] Surreal seems more apropos of a dream in which I discuss my dreams – possibly with a dead man.

Now, *That’s* Entertainment (a dream)

I was in a movie theater. Some seats were vacant, but there were people in every row. No one was with me, but a woman sat a couple of seats over, on the aisle, with me against the upholstered wall. The crowd was a little rowdy. Someone in front of me passed back a sandwich wrapped in plain paper. I didn’t take it, so the woman grabbed it, giving me a “are you kidding?” look. The previews started and seemed to go on forever. One preview didn’t seem to be a preview – it seemed like a movie had started, but not the one I expected. Abruptly, the preview/movie stopped, the curtains closed and the lights went up. The hubbub around me didn’t change to indicate any outrage that we hadn’t seen our movie. I decided to leave, gathering up my jacket and camera bag.

On the way out, I stopped at the office, which was large and surrounded by plexiglass. A crude slot was cut into the plastic near one of the half dozen office denizens. I leaned toward the slot and the worker did as well (unconsciously bowing to each other). I said, “I feel sick. Can I get a refund?” (Why not just tell the truth, I wondered.) “Sure,” he said, “it’ll just take some time.” I looked at him and he looked back very meaningfully: “Seriously, it’ll take a while.” He produced a half-sheet form which required the signature of a supervisor. He mentioned an odd amount that was less than I had paid, but better than nothing.

As I waited, I noticed other people standing nearby. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two lens caps, one much smaller than the other. I dropped the smaller lens cap and started looking for it on the floor, which had several lens caps of various sizes. Somebody held up a much-too-large cap and cracked a cryptic joke. Not my lens cap.

A group of athletic men in suits appeared, raving about Windows 7. (I guessed they had just seen the movie I wanted to see.)

I decided to give up on my refund. When I went back to the window slot, there was now an area several feet across between my side of the glass and the office. This area was like a terrarium. A small tree leaned up and over the glass, into the office. Near the edge where the tree hung over the glass, a half dozen or more turtles were climbing the tree, trying to get into the office. A small turtle slipped and fell back into the terrarium.

As I made my way towards the street, I thought Merri might be worried, so I used my cell phone to call her. She was fine. We talked for a moment before I woke up.

Picture This

I was walking in a dreamlike version of our neighborhood. We looked over a low wall into a classic southwestern yard – gravel, brush, weeds – and saw two roadrunners. Then, I noticed two smaller, younger roadrunners, though too big to call chicks. I asked Mer, “Did you see the babies?” I looked again and, now, the two smaller birds were on the back of yet another, medium sized juvenal roadrunner (fifth bird not previously seen). The two smaller birds were stacked 1-2-3 on the back of the third bird (er, fifth bird). All five birds were moving constantly around the yard. As our group moved on down the street, Dr Dave Mehlman, ornithologist, asked me, “Did you get a picture?” From down the block, Mer responded, “I have a camera!” “You have my camera,” I said. She handed it over and I moved quickly back to the roardunner yard. I turned the camera on without first removing the lens cap, which caused the cap to pop off on its own. I looked down at the unnaturally large camera to see a setting I’ve never seen before, like 2 battery terminals lit up. The camera made strange noises and the moment it clicked, I tossed it, sure it was going to blow up in my hands. Instead, the camera bounced slightly as it hit the ground. When I picked the camera up, the arms connecting the absurdly large LCD screen to the camera (on top, instead of at the back) were bent. I straightened the connection out as best I could and returned to the yard.

As I framed a shot of the five roadrunners, they were about to dash around a corner and out of sight. Suddenly, Mer rushed forward with several people. “I brought more people to see,” she said.

At the this point, the roadrunners were gone, replaced by five small mountain lions. One of the three young was aggressively pouncing on the other, smaller cats. I said, “We’ve got to get away. If those lions come over the wall, we’re in trouble.” I was running up some stairs, looking for the best place to hide when I woke up.

Leap of Faith

In the dream, I was a passenger in a vehicle on a narrow mountain road. I don’t know if it was a truck or car. I did not see the driver. The vehicle started to cross a narrow bridge consisting of a thick solid slab of concrete no wider than the vehicle and without any guardrails. I decided to get out and follow the vehicle, which soon was out of sight. I came to the end of the bridge, where there was a gap of several feet before the dirt road continued to wind along a cliff face and disappear. I had a long view out over the mountainous landscape. I wondered how the vehicle had passed this point. I studied the gap and the cliff face and whether I could jump successfully. The alarm clock solved my problem.

Dream Library

In the dream, I stood outside a small brick building, an old library. I was after one specific book. I entered the library and walked to where I expected to find the book, wondering if I would be allowed to check out a reference book. The interior of the library consisted of one small room with only a few low shelves clustered in the middle. There were only a few books and magazines scattered on the largely empty shelves. I decided to ask for help.

I walked over to a group of people, men and women, some seated at desks, some standing around chatting. They ignored me. I tried to make eye contact. Eventually, I said to one, “Can you help me find a book?” “You’ll have to talk to Michele,” she replied, referring to the woman standing next to her. Michele came around from behind a desk and walked with me towards the sparse shelves. “Which book do you want?” “Strunk & White.” She laughed, “We haven’t had that in a hundred years, I bet.” “I know you had it – I used it! Nevermind.,” I said, turning away.

I stood next to a door marked Emergency Only. Next to that door were two other doors. I could not figure out which of these doors was an exit. Although they were obviously doors, I didn’t see handles or hinges. Between the two doors was a square opening. I decided to go that way.

I was descending, but this wasn’t a tunnel or a stairway. Instead, the passage consisted of a series of restaurant booths, each a little lower than the previous. I climbed over the vinyl benches, descending. The last booth was occupied by a young couple. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to dismount here,” I said as I picked my way around them.

Next to the last booth was a serving station. A waitress appeared and said something. “Excuse me?”, I responded. “I said, ‘You look like you’ve put on some weight.’,” she said, smiling. I said to her, “I wish I needed a girlfriend – you’d be good one.” I woke up.

peace,
mjh

PS: Many people doggedly follow Strunk & White. I do not.

http://www.edgewiseblog.com/mjh/category/dreams/