Friday, June 22, 2012

Busy night...

The drought continued in Indianapolis until all the grass died and everybody's lawn looked more like what you see out West than what you see here in black soil country, where you can plant a nut and a bolt and grow a tractor by August. I was schlepping cans of water through the yard, trying to keep the herbs and 'maters and jalapenos from dying. Bobbi was showing me a catalog of locally-manufactured bicycles featuring a neat balloon-tired cruiser with a bicycle sidecar of some sort.

Shootin' Buddy and I were at the Museum of Science & Industry, or some dream-world equivalent. There were a bunch of kids from some Juvenile Delinquent program on a field trip, and they were tearing the exhibits up. We were looking at a display extolling the sugared food ban and how it would help the economy finally recover by making America healthy, and Shootin' Buddy said "We're going to wind up a socialist country with gun collectors. Every middle class kid is going to be too afraid of breaking the tiniest rule and wrecking his life to step outside the lines." and I intoned "'If there is any hope, it lies with the proles,'" and we looked around at the kids ignoring their chaperones and taking stuff right out of the display cases, and laughed.

Marko and Robin had a slammin' new house halfway up the hillside from the old Castle Frostbite. It was like McCauley's house in Heat; lots of glass. Lyra kept introducing me to her stuffed animal collection one at a time, in that way kids are wont to do,  while I was trying to drift off to sleep. You'd get the critter's name, a brief bio, an explanation about why it was awesome, and then say good night and two minutes later she's back with the next denizen of her plush menagerie.

I was at some tourist trap village in the Smokies with a friend I hadn't seen in many years. We were talking and walking along when her daughter came running up with a look on her face like she'd just been presented with the title to Disneyworld. Grabbing our hands, she tugged us around the corner and into the most amazing chocolate store my imagination could conjure up. I passed on the civet cat coffee chocolate, although I bought a bunch of bacon chocolate bars.

And then it was morning.

My night was exhausting, how was yours?

17 comments:

bluesun said...

Boy, who needs a plane ticket with dreams like those?

Reno Sepulveda said...

I woke up in the middle of the night with the dog on the bed staring at me. It was disconcerting, kind of like Carl in Slingblade only without the hammer.

Turns out he just had to pee.

Earl said...

Gatlinburg?

.45ACP+P said...

Are you keeping track of what you eat prior to these episodes? There could be a connection.

og said...

The feverish dreams are often the most interesting. Was there a goat?

Brad K. said...

Tam,

The drought of the yard is an emotional desert. Your buckets are trying to solve the lemma.

OMG. This is a dream trailer for Brave. And you want to take a journey to find yourself, and the wonders and richness of a fulfilling life. Or, at least, another fun show, with lots of metaphorical treats, like interesting, pristine and under-priced guns and ammo.

The stuffed animal menagerie is a metaphor for pedantic comments, that the writer considers gold, but lack . . anything substantive to flesh them out.

That, or you feel so sick you worry you won't see your friends again in this life. Get well soon!

Fuzzy Curmudgeon said...

Two Benadryls and a shot of Maker's and I'm out for 8. So no, my night was quite restful...

Robert Fowler said...

I got tired just reading about it.

Anonymous said...

My dad had dreams like that when his malaria flared up.

Spending much time in Burma lately?

Gerry

Pakkinpoppa said...

My dream was, somehow I'd managed to sublet half my place to 3 college girls and my 3 year old had them on the floor playing with his Hot Wheels. It was awesome, I had 3 live in babysitters and didn't have to wait until naptime to mow the yard.

The ladies didn't mind me toting or the blaster collection, plus they paid the rent in cash. And, like all my dreams, the living space had morphed a little...somehow there was a second bathroom that was theirs, for example. The safe was bigger and had a few things I don't recall owning or buying.

Pakkinpoppa said...

Dreams...yours are always pretty interesting, Tam, I usually don't remember them. Some I do, but some I'd rather not.

Some are so realistic, though, like when I was done mowing, I almost felt the sweat, and knew I needed to get a little oil on the Block's sights as they're prone to rust in the summertime if I don't keep after them. Plus, Noah having 3 women playing cars with him...
I'm in deep trouble in about ten more years. I'll have to explain that, like dad, many girl's fathers also own guns.

Tam said...

Earl,

"Gatlinburg?"

Kinda sorta. Mashed up with a bit of Helen, GA.

Christina LMT said...

Um...did you take something for your sickness?! Sounds like the crazy dreams I get when I take heavy-duty meds.

LabRat said...

The worst thing about being sick is I never get any damn rest while I sleep, I'm far too busy on this crap. Don't need meds to produce the effect, either.

Tam said...

Only if a couple aspirin is heavy duty. :o

Larry said...

Interesting world you have there.

Justthisguy said...

Heh. My housmate the weird Army Intel Sergeant

(the room-mate, my 17-year old kitteh, has been missing and presumed dead since the first week of May)

spent a week in Chicago last month, and at my suggestion, went through the Museum in general and U-505 in particular.

Everybody should read Admiral Gallery's book about how U-505 was captured, and how the sailors were cheated out of their prize money and souvenirs. Oh god I hate Pwogs!