I’ve been told, to the point that it’s lore, about writing down dreams as soon as they happen.
So here’s the dream, I just woke up and started eating granola bars so I had an excuse to write this one down.
I was in Arizona, like Flagstaff, or Globe, or some place like that. and I was at a seedy little hotel, like ones I’ve stayed at in Lubbock or El Paso. Or Tucson, Albuquerque, Las Cruces. All about the same.
Clean, starchy sheets. Southwestern motif. A faux indian blanket on the bed, wagon wheels on the wall.
I went in the restaurant and ordered up some breakfast, from a Gemini. Then another Gemini sat down next to me. One of them, the waitress, asked what I was looking so incredulously. I remember saying, “I’m trying to figure out why Ray Benson is on the front cover of your newspaper,” and the article was titled, “Alone at last.” About Ray & the Wheel. (Oh look, on the air in Austin, two Pisces.)
I remember the article’s headline and the picture of Ray Benson. That’s just weird. Plus the waitress looked a lot like someone from my not too distant past.
The buzz in that small town was about the alien abductions, and a verified landing of a UFO saucer landing. It skidded to halt, rotated on its axis three times. And then took off. Cameras, eye witness accounts, everything. I could see the spaceship in my mind’s eye, clearly.
When I lay down to sleep for the night, in the dream, in that motel, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I felt a strong, ultra-high frequency beam hit me. I was about to be alien abducted. Or probed. Or something. I woke up.
I wrestled with getting up and writing down the dream. One thought occurred to me, why do alien abductions always happen in trailer parks? Because we live in tin cans, just like space ships.
Then a black helicopter zoomed overhead.
Glad I’m not paranoid or anything.
Books & Travel
I picked up Lone Star Nation the other afternoon. It was a lark, and I’ve already got a shelf full of half-read history tomes, but this one was well received, and the hardback had a nice cover, and the first 100 pages went ripping right along.
The way I’m reading it, the western US, and especially California, owes it very existence to that handful of plucky ne’er do-wells, the ragged band of Texans, and lets admit one little fact, most of those characters were not exactly savory types.
Between the Brazos and the Nueces Rivers, though, they did find some really pretty countryside. Still is.
Plus, just from a personal point, one of my favorite locations for fishing is Bastrop, named for a character of dubious origins.
Other characters? In Imagined London, I found a passage that really hit a note with me, “… a woman chalking ‘The Birth of Venus’ onto the cement with her empty artists’ pastels box by her heels for donations.” (page 114)
I tossed a pound coin in that very box, I’m sure, since I stopped and asked her birthday, as well as taking a picture of the project. It’s in the old web journal some place.
One is the along aside the River Thames, and one is that land between rivers. or like me, on the southern shore of the Colorasdo River.
Imagined London is part introspective, with firm ties to the historical, literary London. Lone Star Nation is straight historical narrative, but fortunately, it’s a little better paced than some of the other history I’ve read.
I’m off to San Antonio de Bexar, as it’s referred to in a more historical context. Off for a weekend of working, alongside the San Antonio River (doubt I’ll make it to the River Walk, this trip.)
We through being cool!
“If you live in as small town, you might meet a dozen or two, young alien types who step out and dare to declare: we’re through being cool.” (This New Wave moment has been brought to you by Devo)
Parenthetical note: that was playing as I wandered up and down Congress Avenue, yeah, from the Capital to Jo’s. And by way of a Libra at Amy’s, too.
Fish on!
All right, I had just a few worms left over, and at dusk, I was sitting by the edge of the river, while one fish ran off with the bait. Happened a second time. The third time, I landed her. Again. Same fish from the day before, no kidding, she still had a bloody lip from our last encounter. Same fish. Same place. Same bait. $30 fishing pole. $20 reel. 3 different spools of line, trying to find what worked best (6 pound spider wire), say $15. Glow in the dark worms. Regular worms. Special worms. $3 three times. That works out to, and I’m sure I caught her in January, too, so that means it’s about $25 a pop.
I’m not saying that this is a dumb bass, either, but I’ve caught her (she’s “with child” now) three or four times, at least, in recent memory. I wonder if this qualifies as a relationship? Dating? And is $25 a good price for about minute of pleasure? The line going taut, the hook set, the fight, the joy of pulling her up for a moment? Personally, I like her little boyfriends as much as her, even though they’re smaller. Caught one of them January First.
Not exactly dumb, but not exactly the brightest fish in the pond. Ounce for ounce though, what she ain’t got in brains, she more than makes up for with attitude and fight. No wonder she takes my bait, she’s hungry. She’s eating enough for up to 2,000 babies?
Catch and release: I want all of her little fry to grow up and be healthy, as pretty as she is, with nice, strong jaws, just like she’s got.
Tech Woes, eBay problems, and so forth
I labored, toiled quite a bit, with the keyboard, and at one point in time, I had two text editors, four different browsers (IE, NetScape, FireFox & Safari) running with different windows, two different FTP programs, and the screen was a cluttered mess.
3/4’s of the problems have been fixed. Took more than one late night call to tech support. I did come up with problems that were over the level of the operators. I’m still working on the software for the weblog. The hardware shift, platform change, the backend looks good. But one tiny change one place has a cascading effect as the problems all roll downhill, gather speed, momentum and grow larger and larger.
Then again, this morning, an email pops through, “where’s the item I bought from you on eBay?”
Man, I shipped that the day after the auction closed.
