Thursday, February 27, 2014

snow rage, unsafe diner, goofy music industry rage

thursday dream:
i'm driving a big red truck downtown in the snow. there is a road rage guy next to me and he keeps getting into my lane. so after the light turns i gun it, trying to get some space. he guns it also, and the road narrows, i swerve left, hitting a snow pile and end up the wrong way in a one way. except there is so much snow i can't get out. i have to ramp up, dukes of hazzard style, at the last second to avoid an oncoming truck. whew.

then i'm at some apartment. there is a friend working very late at a diner by herself and i am worried about her safety. she is telling me on the phone that she is fine, everything is fine. i want to come down there to make sure. maybe bring her a weapon. something bad seems like it's going to happen. not because i believe it, but because i'm not sure if she believes it. i don't remember how it ends.

later i'm at a party in a different high rise apartment. it's super swanky. with modern charcoal couches and yellow diamond pillows. there is an amazing fireplace in the center of the room. everyone here works for some music industry company, although i don't know which one, and i am only someone's guest, so i don't know who anyone is. everyone is sitting and drinking cocktails. there is discussion on the music business, humming along at a dull murmur. at some point someone stands up and raises their voice. it's a tall, goofy looking guy with salt and pepper curly short hair. glasses. brown sweater and pleated jeans. he's telling this young kid his band sucks. i only remember bits and pieces of the dialogue but it went something like this:

goofy: "absolute trash. not going anywhere. you can't even hear him in the mix and when you do he sounds like shit."
kid: "well he's a great frontman and we like his voice."
goofy: "no. no you don't! you're making a huge mistake and you're idiots!"
random person: "maybe over time his voice will improve?"
goofy: "no! stop coddling this kid! don't you see how wrong they are? it's insane! why would you waste any time at all with this guy when i'm telling you it's not going anywhere?!"
me: (under my breath) "bullshit."

finally there is silence. goofy sweater guy is still standing there. slightly shaking in his indignation. kid looks sad, even though his floppy hairstyle obscures his sad kid face. no one knows what else to say. i start thinking about what kind of moron this man is. who cares what this kid wants to do? if he asked for your opinion, can't you give it without going all ragey? eventually i stand up. everyone looks at me as i walk up to goofy sweater guy and get right in his face.

"i'm gonna make a drink, can i get anything for you?"
"no," he says, looking like he wants to goofily swing on me.

i head into the kitchen and the friend who invited me follows.

"dude! don't you know who that is?"
"that's the dude i told you about! he was in foreigner!"
"so fuck him! you don't talk to anyone like that, i don't care who you are. i don't care if you played keyboards for foreigner on one tour, or if you clean toilets, or shovel elephant shit. it ain't right."

i go on about how the kid's future is his own malleable realm of probabilities, that it's unacceptable to be demanding or angry about anything that isn't yours to decide. blah blah blah. i can't remember anything else.

the end?

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

european castles, stuck in the staircase


we are traveling in europe. seems like germany. the white van is pulled up in front of a castle, at the top of a large cliff. the castle workers come to unload the band gear. i have to poo really bad, so i ask the bearded guy where to go and run down a spiral staircase. after a few minutes, i come to a level section. i find a strange raised hole in the floor near the center. this must be it. so i drop trou and try to rush the process, since anyone could come waltzing around the corner at any minute.

after i'm finished, i head back to the loading area but the van is empty and i can't find my wife. i look everywhere to no avail. so i head down into the valley below. down in the village they are apparently having some sort of festival, except it hasn't opened yet. everything looks medieval, with lots of food and game tents, all closed up. i'm wandering around and it goes on and on. looks like we'll have to come back later to see all this.

i finally find her and now we're taking a tour of the castle. there is a small, very old house inside it on the back side. it's near the top of the castle wall, kind of hanging there. other people taking the tour as well, apparently. we get to a small hall closet and head up a very narrow staircase. we finally get to the top and there is a deck that overlooks the castle courtyard. it's very high up. as more people keep flowing out from the stairs to the deck, we decide to leave before it's too crowded. except the stairs are full of people. i try to wait for them to make a space but i get impatient. i start stuffing myself past them. nobody else can move, but i'm squeezing myself through like a bowel movement. i somehow realize there is a pole in the center (like a firehouse) and it gets easier and i slide to the bottom. i curse everyone for hogging the stairs and creating a fire hazard.

at the bottom of the stairs are 'married with children' stars david faustino and christina applegate.

there seems to be much more but that is all i can recall. the end?

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

spanish breakfast, country superstars, guitar solo anxiety

two brief dreams:

in the first, i am in an open courtyard, between tall grey apartment buildings. young trees all around. tall tables and chairs. groups of people eating and talking. there are a few friends with me, but they seem a little more than normal. we are looking at menus and talking about the options. except it's not food we are discussing. it seems we are longtime soul-friends who are in a temporary staging area, between lives. the menus represent options for playing out our next reincarnations together. over and over in different lifetimes and family configurations. we choose "spanish breakfast" but i don't know which time period. i wake up and quickly lose other details of the dream.

the second, i am in a music studio with about 80 country superstars. we are doing a honky tonk version of 'we are the world'. i'm psyched to be there and hang out with charlie daniels, merle haggard, hank williams, dolly parton... but the director tells me it's time to cut my solo. panic fills my every cell because i have no idea what solo he's talking about. he tells me it's for the DTP song 'yes master' and i tell him i'm still not ready. the country stars all appear disappointed in me. i think i might throw up. luckily it's time to wake up and feed these animals.

the end?

Monday, February 24, 2014

walking in the field, footprints & zombies

this morning i had an all zombie dream. (thanks walking dead!)

i was at my childhood home, in the field behind the house. walking with someone. there was snow on the ground. we found a giant footprint with three toes (legend of boggy creek). as we marveled at it, we heard zombies and made a run for a shed. not 'the shed' from my childhood, but a different small structure in the yard, with tan siding and a full roof. probably 6x6" square. we jump in and hide, but there are characters from the show in there, hershel and his youngest daughter. there is a scary scene where we have to stay quiet and more zombie madness but i can't remember it. the end?

Friday, February 21, 2014

rubber washers, arm & heads truck, orange turtleneck, LA zipline

squeaking out some more dream memories by emailing details when i wake up.
the farthest back i can remember is being in an electronics or auto parts store. i'm in the very back, looking through an aisle of small rubber washers. i only need a few of them. suddenly the fire alarm sounds off. there is smoke filling the air. i grab as many small rubber washers as i can and jam them in my jacket pocket and head towards the door. having trouble breathing as i get to the end of the aisle, all i can see is smoke. i take a big breathe of smoke and fall to my knees. i think i'm dying. yep. it's a transition. at first it is terrifying but peace washes over me and i move on.

next i'm in an upstairs room of what seems like my high school. i'm looking out the window talking to someone out of view. i see a work truck, with ladders and buckets. and an arm. i squint and realize there is a human arm hanging off the back. "there's an arm hanging off that truck!" i yell. then i see the heads. about 5 of them. sticking up on posts in the back of the bed. not sure how i missed them before. i'm starting to flip out but the voice out of view reassures me.

then i'm down on the ground below. it's a halloween celebration. skulls and jack-o-lanterns and body parts on the school grounds. the truck is driving around a halloween display. ok then.

the scene ends up shifting and i am inside a large convention in the gymnasium. there are long rows of tables and people sitting and eating. some guy in a thick, bright orange, turtleneck sweater is talking to the crowd. he looks like rob lowe with the big 80s feathered hair. something smarmy and degrading in his tone. he's talking about some life coaching something something. i am blocking it out. as soon as he is done he comes to where i'm sitting and leans over to say something in my ear. the first part i can't make out but the last part is "... and i am EVERYWHERE." and he's really spooky about it. i get up and follow him out of the gym. then i'm in a dressing room trying on ski pants in a mirror. but i'm wearing a bright orange turtleneck! no!

next i am a noob truck driver waiting in the DMV for some kind of answer. the kid behind the counter thinks he knows more than me and won't give me the info. his hair is really greasy for a government job. his jacket is stained with big grease spots too. he makes some snide remark like "you'd never know it" and walks off.

at this point i wake up and go to the bathroom. after sending an email with dream details to myself, i lie back down.

eventually i am part of a film crew working on a busy los angeles street corner. we are on the second floor landing of a yogurt and bicycle shop. we have a zip line going from the top of the landing down to the side of a clothing store across the intersection. the film is going to be a short about daredevils zipping across traffic. we are all done setting up for the day and i retire to my private bedroom, there inside the landing.

once i'm rested, i go down an escalator and i'm in a casino i've never seen before. i know i went down far enough to be underground but i can see daylight outside the windows. and i'm definitely not in los angeles anymore. i'm looking for anyone i recognize to no avail. i find a small door and go down a narrow staircase. the cocaine wolves are loading their gear to play a show there. it's a very small dim room with yellow walls. i don't see where there is even room to set up. but they are getting paid, right? no idea. i'd like to stay to see the show but i have to wake up now.

the end?

Thursday, February 20, 2014

russian taste tester, vinnie vincent, pregnant teens, doggie doo

after yesterday's dream recall, i make a mental note to try and remember again this morning. thanks to waking up several times and emailing myself details, i have bits and pieces.

russian taste tester

the first one involves me on a giant russian (soviet?) cruise ship. there is a massive ballroom with marble floors that are immaculately shiny. on all four sides of the ballroom are marble steps leading up to another tier. on both the left and right are soldiers lined up in formation, going back as far as the eye can see. in front of me are a row of chefs with rolling food carts. probably 20 or 30 of them. i am walking up to them and there is a great anticipation. i have to try the food. for the soldiers, the leaders, or a king? i have no idea. but i'm pretty sure i could die if someone poisoned the food. except i am more or less convinced no one would do it front of soldiers. so i go along taking bites and chewing with furrowed brow, until i smile at the soldiers and the chefs and everyone claps that i am not dead. i'm moving down to the next chef. same food: salmon with green beans. yuck. there must be a king who lovers salmon. then i hear a noise in the actual kitchen and i wake up.

vinnie vincent, the south pacific, canals & pregnant teens

bits and pieces of this sort of fall into a story. i'm sitting in an apartment trying to tell a local metal dude from a popular doom metal band a story about recording with vinnie vincent. vinnie is notoriously difficult to work with and as i get started on the story someone else in the room says something and they start a different conversation altogether. i, on the other hand, am transported back in time to some weird south pacific country that has canals instead of streets. i am there working with vinnie vincent and he has pissed me off somehow so i left the 'mobile tour bus recording studio'. i know there was a huge chunk of dream about dealing with him but i can't recall any of it now. anyhow, i'm out climbing around in the alley like a ninja. i have no shoes on but i am scaling large walls using my fingers and toes. this must be to get out the frustration of working with a giant douchebag.

finally i am on the main canal, perusing the small shops (there are nice sidewalks). a taxi boat pulls up and i see a group of teenagers gather to get on. there are two blonde girls at the front. the wind blows one of the blonde's hair back and she has a big, weirdly shaped bald spot / scar on the back of her head. she grabs the hair and covers the spot, seemingly embarrassed. i can see she is very, very pregnant but she looks all of 15 (we'll call her Preg). somehow i make a joke about her bald spot scar that gets many laughs, and we all start talking. we hang out somewhere and decide that the pregnant girl's sister (we'll call her Nopreg, who is probably 14) and i should pretend to be dating. at this point i realize i must be about 22 years old or something, because they are actually talking to me (or they could be vinnie vincent fans, i don't know). we all end up at a small diner and everyone is telling stories and laughing. all my jokes go over like gangbusters. i finally realize on the way out that a group of old people, specifically an old woman with cartoon-like, curmudgeonly features, are giving me the stinkeye. they initially were mad about the laughter (it offends them)... but now the old woman is using her evil gaze to tell me i am too old for the 14 year old girl. i stare back at her and say something to the effect of "you know you like it, you dirty coot". her face goes sour. we leave.

we get back to their house and there is some confusion in the kitchen. it looks like a bunch of peanut butter has been spread on the floor in the corner, but in little piles. they are saying they don't know what it is but i know what it is, it's doggie doo. lots of laughter ensues... and then something something about doggie doo in the coffee maker, which i can't remember at all.

eventually i'm tired and lay down in the upstairs bedroom. it's all pink and white and frilly. i'm starting to doze off and Preg comes in. she is mad that her and i are not pretending to be dating. i'm not sure what the hell to say. she starts ripping off her prom gown (?) and eventually is screaming at me all naked, standing over me on the bed. telling me it's because she is pregnant. i tell her that, obviously, her hormones are off the charts. this only seems to make it worse. she starts making some groaning / whining / crying sound and squats over the bed, threatening to have the baby right there. Nopreg finally busts in the room and gets jealous and starts yelling.

i can't quite remember the next few parts, as i was tossing and turning. but eventually there was some sort of 'rock and roll band music fair', and i saw the band Protest the Hero (?) playing ping pong on a vertical table, with one guy suspended in the air. what.

the end?

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

stolen car, breaking in, heart condition, i don't steal books

So this morning's weird dream:

i left my hometown on foot and walked through the snow for an unknown length of time. eventually i came across a 70s style gas-guzzling green car with the door unlocked. i jumped in and took off in it. i kept driving until i got to a dark, poor neighborhood. i think i'm in Alexandria (Indiana). the car starts spinning due to the ice, and i am heading for some sort of concrete hole in the ground. it is probably 8 feet by 30 feet long and had thin, black metal bars cross-hatched on the top in 1 foot squares. i swerve hard to miss it but i hit the concrete so hard a wheel popped off and the car came to a stop. i took a look but there was no way to replace it. the neighborhood is quiet, it feels like dawn will be breaking soon. the cheap, old homes were all dark colors and seemed foreboding. i needed to rest, so i found an apartment that didn't seem to have any tenants. looking through the window i could see dust and pale orange walls. i broke in somehow and started milling around. 

i must have found something to sleep on, because now it is morning. my wife is there, she's in the bathroom getting ready. there's a man there, i can't remember who he was. he looks like dennis hopper or ricardo montalban or robert di niro. he's sitting at the kitchen table and dropping words of wisdom and i'm wondering how they got in and what else happened last night. eventually the landlord shows up and he has the tenants with him. people are asking about the car too. i get ready to go to face him and di niro says "heart condition" as i walk past him. so that's my excuse.

"i have a heart condition sir," i say as i flip through the contacts on my smart phone, showing him that i am not a bum, that i have friends. "i had to break in because it was cold and my heart condition... uh" i trail off. the man seems to accept this line of reasoning and we walk back inside. in a back room that i was unaware of, a tenant is looking closely over the massive blue bookcases. the room looks like a garage and has pipes in the ceiling. he's asking me about the books. "which ones did i steal?" none of them. he can't believe i didn't take them. he is scoffing at me.

then i hear the bird making her 'wake up' noises and i'm awake in bed. the end?