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1
Charles and I were in an argument. I vaguely remember us yelling at one another about this and that. The actual words escaped me. I viewed this apart from myself, as if looking over my shoulder from several feet away as Charles and I yelled at one another. I remember seeing him as he stood there and then advance closer to me as he yelled his point of view, whatever that may have been. I recall that my half of the argument centered around him not caring about what I had to say, or he didn’t care what I thought.
2
I was at a Yanni concert. I remember being in the crowd, you know, the usual massive crowd of people at a concert with the sweeping spotlights drifting this way and that over our heads. At some point in time I got a phone call from Ningan Blessed, Lisa’s aunt. I think I probably had a cell phone and heard it ring, so I answered the damned thing. Apparently Yanni was staying at Ningan and Mann’s house while he was in town for his concert. How this arrangement came to be, I couldn’t tell ya, but this is a dream. Ningan sounded terribly distraught. She wasn’t frantic, not quite that, but she was distressed, to the point of crying. There were a lot of reporters at her house, not in her house, but in her driveway. There were many news trucks and cars crammed into that little parking slit of concrete she had there, and I guess there were cameras and news crews and all those little reporter babes in their nice dresses and perfect hair standing in front of portable cameras operated by young guys with straggly dark long hair and who chewed gum and just followed the yapping reporter person to wherever they needed to go and filmed them as they spat the latest crap happening. I stood at the concert and listened to the distressed Ningan, and there were times when she was silent so I asked her to tell me what was wrong. She indicated that Yanni was a very rude person, was very demanding, and the whole setup was extremely hard on her and Mann and she didn’t want to put up with this much longer. I remember catching fleeting glimpses of Yanni, with his long hair and perfect man body, as he walked around Ningan’s house. Particularly, I remember him in the kitchen part, and I guess there were PR people with him in there as he strutted from room to room. He was not nice to Ningan or Mann at all, demanding sandwiches or whatever. Apparently, I was a promoter or some type of person who was in charge of concert productions and, therefore, Yanni and his accommodations were my problem. That’s why Ningan called me because I was in charge of seeing to this Yanni person, and putting him into Ningan’s house was apparently something I was responsible for. I finally asked Ningan if she wanted me to come over so I could take care of the problem. There was no response and although there was silence I could tell she was still there; I could almost hear her breathing in her distressed little way. I was confused as to why she wasn’t answering, maybe she was too stressed out to speak – yeah, that’s gotta be it.
1
I was with Sarah and William on the bank of a river. There was an earlier part to this dream that I can barely remember where I was in a kayak and paddling on the river. However, that part is long gone, and what I can clearly remember is Sarah getting in a kayak all by herself by the edge of the river. I feel like I am in the water waist high and William is there with me somewhere, maybe not in the water, but nearby, maybe to the left of me on the shore. The river is not flowing rapidly but there is definitely a current, and the movement of it is from in front of me as I face the muddy brown water and to the back of me. Maybe I am chest high, as I think about it, and black, spindly branches from the trees, dependant on the life of the water flowing there, stretch 15 feet out across the water in large arcs. Their thin spider leg branches are coated with black, dripping moss. There are a dozen of them, barely touching the water and maybe a small percentage of them are, their ends immersed in the chocolate-colored water that reminds me of what Agustas fell into. To the left, deeper into the woods, is dense and black nothingness, no details allowed me there. As Sarah got into her kayak, she was immediately caught in the current and I guess I didn’t feel terrified quite yet. There were some branch parts lying in the water and I figured she would be confined to this little area where I stood chest or waist high and, therefore, I had nothing to worry about. But as soon as she had taken off, the kayak up-ended and she flipped upside down. Well, that’s not good. But then she turned herself back up. But then the current took her and she started to drift away from me and downstream. I still had the feeling that she had control of the kayak and would not drift away, but I knew she had to paddle and keep control of the thing or she definitely would be gone. As Sarah drifted, I turned my body in the direction the river flowed and watched. Downstream, 150 feet away, was the threshold to a waterfall. The water at the entrance was white which indicated, I suppose, a higher speed in the flow of the water than what was before it. The waterfall top, as I viewed it from where I stood, was 50 feet wide. On the left was a lip of rock that went up 5 feet high then it went 5 feet left, and then it met with the land, which was basically a bunch of dark tree-shaped stuff. On the right of the 50-feet-wide waterfall top was land that pretty much felt like what I was engulfed in; dark grayish stuff that was shady and muckier than shit. I told Sarah to watch out for the waterfall, that if she went over it then she’d die, so don’t go that way for heaven’s sake. The water level started rising and suddenly I was standing inside a house on the edge of the river. I was looking out the threshold of a doorway and I couldn’t tell you what the inside of the house, behind me, looked like. I was standing there and the water level was rising in the river. It was rising pretty quick and as I stood there and looked out to the river and its bleak world beyond, the water started coming into the house, lapping over the threshold and coming inside. Down there at my feet where the door bottom met the river world, there was a piece of board that, I guess, some one might put at the bottom of doors to reduce wear and tear of the in- and out-ed-ness of it all. The board looked like it was nailed on and looked like the same piece of oak that is at the threshold of the closet to the left of my front door in the house I live in right now. I get the feeling that this nailed-on piece of board was put there, in my dream, to keep the water out but it wasn’t working.
2
I was hiking on Mountain Rainier somewhere and Sarah was with me. We were hiking the trail to Camp Muir and were at a point where the trail ceased being the manageable small-rock-lined type and where it now became snow. I was walking along the trail, as I view it in my dream, and I see myself and Sarah walking toward me. The snow-lined slope of the mighty mount is to the right and the steep cliff going down is to the left. Now I see the other way, where the downward slope is to the right and the steep upward snow-lined slope is to the left. In front of me, about 20 feet ahead of Sarah and I, is where the rocky trail ends and becomes covered in snow. From that point on, the trail is covered with snow for the remainder of the climb. There was a man hiking behind us who passed us up and walked onto the snow-covered part of the trail. He had a turbine on his head and looked Arabian. He was also wearing a light-colored robe of some kind as well. He had a black beard and moustache. After walking onto the snow for about 20 feet he suddenly turned around and started walking back towards us, as if he realized he made a wrong turn or he just suddenly decided he didn’t want to hike onto the snow or this trail anymore, so he was turning back. There was another hiker on the trail behind us and he was also an Arabian with the robe, turbine, beard and moustache; you get the picture. He walked up to Sarah then picked her up suddenly and gave her a big bear hug. Then he began shaking her pretty hard in what I perceived to be a threatening way. Not one to stand for things such as this, I approached the guy and called him a punk, or some other threatening name, but before I could do anything more than that, this dream faded and another began.
3
I was on a train rolling along some tracks somewhere. Although I know a lot happened, this dream is very vague and most of the details of this once very long and detailed vision are lost forever unless I get struck by lightning or something and the trauma allows me to remember. But anyway, I was on a train and there were a lot of other people on the train as well, sitting in their little train seats. I was involved with something that required me to hop from one train car to another. I would go to the back of one train car, then go out to the little balcony-porch area on the back of the car where it would be connected to the next car, then I would hop over the large metal train clamps that attached one car to another and land on the back porch area of the adjoining car. For some reason I needed to find my wallet, and this may have been why I was hopping from train car to train car as they rolled along the track at windy, treacherous speeds. The world to the left of me whizzed by in a blur but it looked like I may have been in a desert-type of setting. I hopped onto one train car and it was a large, storage car of some sort. I remember it being dark and there was hay strewn about and maybe some large wooden boxes scattered here and there, just like the kind in Tomb Raider. In this place is where I found my wallet. The wallet looks just like the one I own now; black and flipped open just like a Star Trek communicator. There was a bunch of stuff in my wallet but I’m not sure what it was. There was something like a folded-up map or similar type piece of paper. The paper unfolded like one of those translucent plastic wallet accordion-like things where you keep pictures of various precious people in and store your special plastics like licenses and/or credit cards, but the folded out pieces seemed larger than that, more in the half-foot by half-foot range.
I was walking in a city that did not look familiar to me. There were a lot of people around, doing various activities. The street appeared to be a cobblestone type of road and this area of town was more of a suburb-type city dwelling instead of the strict, rigid, cement and suit-covered-businessmen type of place. I got the feeling it was a cross between a small, little villa and a city with a population of 70,000. I was walking from right to left and beyond me, to my right, was a street that led up and away at an upward grade to another part of the town. Lining the street were medium to dark-covered places of business that may have been cobbler shops, mom and pop stores, restaurants—that type of stuff. I was walking along and came to the intersection where the street went up and away but I was not heading in that direction. Instead, I continued to the left and had in mind going to the street that curved slightly in front of me (to my left as I viewed this). I think there was someone with me but I’m not sure who it was; maybe Steve, maybe Lisa. As we walked along, suddenly some soldiers began filing into the streets from the various avenues that led to our intersection. There was some kind of commotion in the air and I knew that something was terribly wrong. There was a manhole in the center of the intersection, right in the middle of the street, and the lid to it began to come up as someone underneath was climbing into the street. The torso and head of a man, also a military man wearing an army helmet and gear, exclaimed to everyone that a bomb had gone off. Apparently, that was why there were soldiers running all over the place. Suddenly I looked up to the sky and instantly I could see it being clouded over with thousands of boulders cascading across the heavens. The rocks/boulders were a mile high and formed tightly together like a huge, ominous black cloud of death. Apparently these boulders in the sky were the result of the bomb going off and instead of a gaseous cloud, these rocks had been blown into the sky and formed together so as to appear as a cloud. The rocks in the sky were several miles away on the horizon, but they were getting closer and suddenly the feeling of terror engulfed me. At this point, this dream started to feel very real and the feeling of horror I experienced was dreadfully realistic. I actually felt like this part of the world I was in had been bombed and I felt that I very well may die here today. It wasn’t fun. Needless to say, I fled in terror as fast as I could, concentrating only on myself at this point. I knew that if the rocks reached me then I would die, so I ran as fast as I could away from them. I ran out of the city and found myself running through some woods that reminded me of the woods at Wapato Park that I often hike through with my kids. I was running alongside a road, or close to the side of a road, and there were trees and woods surrounding me. I remember running past an outhouse and a car that someone was squatting behind in an attempt, I guess, to hide themselves from the bomb. This tactic didn’t seem good enough for me so I kept running to find some shelter, not simply duck behind a car or behind an outhouse. I continued running and looked to my left and could just make out a dwelling of some kind through the dense foliage. The building down there through the trees looked like one of the picnic sites at Lake Wapato; the place by the playgrounds and on the edge of the lake where there is a large stove and sink. I continued running, somewhat surprised that the huge boulders (100 feet or more across) in the sky have not engulfed me yet. Although the rocks were in the sky, I knew that they also met with the earth at some point and destroyed everything in their path. I soon broke out of the forest and in front of me was a vast field. On the other side of the field was a church, 200 feet away in the distance. Running as fast as I could, I ran toward the church, knowing this was as good a shelter as I was going to find before the boulders would smash me to death. I ran across the light-colored field which may have been covered with grass, but the lightness of the color gave me the impression it may have been dirt and rocks, almost white in color. To my relief, I was able to reach the church before the rocks reached me. I ran to the church and saw a passageway leading under the church, like the basement or something. I descended a small spiral stone staircase and found some stone slabs in the basement with large cracks in them, like bunkers dug into the ground. There were other people here as well and they crammed their bodies tightly into the cracks and crevices as well as they could. Right after I managed to squeeze myself into a crevice between these huge rock slabs underneath this church, the boulders came. There was a small one-foot-high, slit-like opening between the ground and the bottom of the church where daylight allowed us a look at what was happening at ground level outside. From what I could see and hear, rocks of all sizes and shapes smashed into the church around us. Some of the smaller boulders were able to find their way under the crack of the floor and zip into our area under the church. We ducked our heads and as long as we did that, we managed to escape being smashed with rocks that zipped wildly and dangerously close to the tops of the rock slabs we hid behind. If any of us poked our head up, we were in danger of getting it smashed to bits by the racing boulders that whizzed above us. There was one person who was looking up over the edge of the crack and I yelled at them to “Keep down!” Eventually, after about a minute, the rocks passed and we had survived the onslaught. I knew, however, that if I had been outside at the time and not made it to cover in time then I would have been killed. But the danger was over. Suddenly, I was by myself. I vaguely remember being in the basement of the church and then looking around and realizing that all the cracks and crevices in which we had hid were now empty and I was all to my lonesome. I don’t remember the people going anywhere—they were just gone. The next thing I recall is being back in area that was in the proximity of the city where this dream started. I may not have actually been in the same spot in the city, or in the city at all, but I knew I was somewhere around there. I was still by myself now, no other people around at all, and I remained by myself for the remainder of this dream. Another bomb went off and again I looked up into the sky and again I saw those boulders coming my way in their dense mass just as before. I started running again but this time I knew just where to go; the church. When the bomb went off the first time I just ran blindly to go to any shelter I could find, but now I at least knew there was safety somewhere if I could just reach it. I ran through the forest and came upon the field again with the church in the distance. The rocks were coming my way, I knew, and I had to get moving. However, moving became extremely difficult and found I could barely make any progress, just like what often happens to me in dreams. I was starting to panic because the boulders were coming my way but I could barely crawl. I made my way across the field as best as I could, grabbing at the ground as best I could to pull myself closer to the church. There was a white cord or cable of some sort with me and I somehow used this to help pull me along the ground. I would pull on it as it laid horizontally in front of me then I would somehow attach it to something at the sides that would allow me to pull myself forward a little more. It was a maddening, slow pace and I was seriously worried that I would not make it to the church on time (apologies to David Bowie) and would get pummeled. I recall reaching the church steps just in time and was able to crawl down into the basement just as the rocks arrived. I crawled into the same space between the rock slabs that I hid in before and again escaped death as the rocks pummeled the church and whizzed over my head in my little, dark basement place. I think the church may have been leveled but I was safe. The last thing I recall of this dream was being able to run, as if the disability I had before that only allowed me to crawl across the ground, like when I was trying to escape the boulders, was gone. I saw myself as if I was someone else and standing 30 feet away. As I watched myself run, I was standing with someone else and discussing me with them (got that?). As I watched myself run, I saw that I was now a short, 5-feet-tall man, balding, and in his 50s. I ran through barricades that were red, fuzzy cables, like those set up in banks and at some theaters to define where people should stand and move along when standing in line. I looked like that guy that works for Reunions Unlimited that Lisa and I did pictures for on several occasions.
I was in a vehicle of some sort and was driving along the highway. Amashel Tetany was with me and I think she was sleeping in the back of the car, which was like a station wagon, next to me. She also had a friend with her who may have been about 5 feet tall and had shoulder length curly hair. I was then in the front in the car, in the passenger seat now, not driving like I may have been before. I suddenly felt the need to wipe my ass. Apparently I had taken a shit earlier and had not wiped sufficiently enough, so by God I was going to finish the job right now. Having Amashel and her friend in the car didn’t seem to deter me at all. In fact, I, for some reason, felt that wiping my ass right then would make me look cool in front of them or something. I remember having some toilet paper in my hand and reaching down to where my ass was. I guess the pants or shorts I was wearing were pulled down to my lower waist so I had easy access the ass area of my physique. I wiped my ass and surveyed the dark mess on the toilet paper. I wiped a few times more, to the point where the wipe was a light brown, watery smear on the tissue wad. Amashel’s friend, who was sitting somewhere in the back of the station wagon or whatever car-type it was we were in, asked Amashel if I was going to throw the soiled toilet paper out the window. Apparently she didn’t mind me so much wiping my ass, she just didn’t want me to throw the garbage outside and litter. But I didn’t throw it out the window. There was a small plastic bag or some type of container at armrest level to the right of me, attached to the door, and that is where I discarded the toilet paper. After the ass-wiping portion of this dream ended, and as we were driving along the highway, traveling from right to left going about 55 or 60, I looked to the back and left out the window and saw a black Trans Am in the lane next to us, just at the bumper of our car but in the opposite lane. I saw Moost, Amanda Makenpeace’s son, in the driver’s seat and my son, William, in the passenger seat. This seemed odd because William is only 9 and Moost might be 10, so neither of them are old enough to drive. Amanda Johnson was in the car with us and I asked her what was going on. Apparently, earlier in this dream we were all gathered at our starting point, standing around and shooting the shit. There was this Trans Am and we needed to get it to the destination we were all driving to now, but we needed someone to drive it. The first idea we had was for William to drive it, which seemed odd, because there were a number of adults present, all of them going to the same place, and yet we felt the need to single out William to drive the Trans Am. I felt apprehensive about this, of course, but felt that although it would be dangerous, that William would be able to pull it off. Why the hell I felt this, I had no idea. But then Amanda spoke up and indicated that Moost could drive instead of William, and this made more sense, or should I say, less bad sense, because Moost was a little older than William and, therefore, we reasoned, he would be less likely to fuck up when driving the Trans Am. Anyway, back to inside the station wagon, I watched as Moost drove and William sat in the passenger seat of the Trans Am as it raced alongside us. It kept pace with us, going the same speed. Finally we came to a fork in the road and the lane Moost and William were in veered off to the left at a 45- to 50- degree angle. If they didn’t get into another lane soon then they would have to take that road and disappear into a city that I could barely distinguish in the horizon that lay at the end of that road. We came to the diversion in the road and Moost did well to turn and follow the lane where it went. I was impressed with how he was driving but was more concerned with the boys no longer being beside us and them getting lost and losing contact with us altogether. We kept driving (I think Amanda or maybe even Lisa was driving) and some time later we reached our destination. My first order of business once I got there was to search along the road we were on to see if the boys had somehow arrived here before us, or were about to. I walked along the road and recall being in some woods that reminded me of the forests at Wildwood Park, the area by the playground. I walked through the woods and came out onto the road again, thinking that if I went the back way and came back towards where we ended up parking that I may intercept Moost and William if they had indeed come this way. I exited the woods and walked out onto the road then looked up to where we had parked our station wagon. There in the distance, maybe 50 or so feet way, were Lisa, Amanda, and a few kids, walking toward me, but Moost and William were not with them. As I looked at them, I could see the sunny day beyond them but their bodies were under the shadows of large, thick trees that hung over the road 50 feet above them. At about this time, I saw Bandit and Tiger. I guess we had taken them with us but I don’t think it was intentional. Maybe they accidentally got in the station wagon and stowed away, but they were here now and seemed to be handling it rather well. I can’t remember much of Bandit, but Tiger came romping up to me and kind of slithered around at my feet. After acknowledging my presence, he ran off and went on his merry way. I looked back to Lisa, Amanda and the kids as they approached. They were wondering where I was at because I guess I had just taken off and not told them what I was doing. Since they had started looking for me from where we parked the car and had walked down the street from a different direction, we would have run into William and Moost if they had come this way, but no, they had not seen the boys, so we were just going to wait for their arrival, thinking that they would somehow find us as long as we remained in the proximity of the road on which we had traveled, thinking they would surely get un-lost, travel on that road and arrive here as well. In the meantime, we decided to do what it was we had come here to do, feeling the boys would show up later. There was a huge party in this neck of the woods, so I started drinking, intent on getting sloshed. At the intersection where we parked our station wagon and through to the next intersection over and beyond, there was a huge street party going on. It was a Mardi Gras type of atmosphere, and there were a lot of people partying all over the place, drinking and running around like there was no tomorrow. I ended up getting extremely drunk. I remember next to nothing about what I had done that night. I barely remember being at a place where there was a small lawn next to a lake and standing at the threshold to the door that looked out to the lawn and lake beyond. This reminded me of the lake Jethro and I used to go to when we visited his girlfriend Persha Talc, back in 1981 or 1982, and the house that was on the beach at the lake that belonged to the caretaker of the lake. The next day I woke up and was pretty hungover and could barely remember anything I did at all the night before because I had drank so much. I had completely lost track of Amashel and her friend and saw nothing of them the rest of this dream, and I wondered when they left and if I had even talked to them while they were here. As I was wandering around some kind of outside cafeteria or other type of outdoor eating establishment, a woman walked by me who may have been holding a tray full of food as if she had just gone through a line at the smorgasbord, filled her plate full of food, and was now in search of a place to sit down and eat. She was around 30 and had shoulder length, straight blonde hair that she had pulled up around behind her ears, wore light-colored shorts and had a top on that was sleeveless and had thin, half-inch think horizontal stripes on it that were of different colors. One stripe near armpit level was a dark blue color but the rest were lighter colors, seeming to decrease in darkness as they went down her shirt and toward her waist. She looked at me as she walked by and smiled then winked as if she knew me and we had done something which would justify the wink. I looked at her as she walked away and I had no idea who she was. I did know, however, she was someone that I had done something with the night before but because I had been so drunk, I couldn’t remember what the hell that could have been. It concerned me, just what it was we did, but I didn’t think about it much. I wandered away from the intersection where we parked the station wagon and walked down to the next intersection over. I was concerned about doing this because I figured that if Moost and William were going to come to this place then they would drive on the street where we parked, not on the street one intersection over, which is where we stood. However, there was a phone booth on the sidewalk right on the corner of the intersection and I guess Moost or William had called that phone booth to get directions on how to get to where we were. Apparently they had spent the night somewhere, asked someone what the phone number was to a phone booth that might be in the area where we were at, and called the number. Lisa or Amanda had talked to the boys and gave them directions on how to get to where we were, so it looked as if everything was going to be alright. The street party was pretty wild at this point, people everywhere going nuts. As I walked around, checking out the different peddler’s booths and entertainment scattered everywhere, I ran into Johnny Depp. I was surprised and started talking to him, telling him how I thought he was great in The Pirates of the Caribbean. I told him that I thought that his role as Jack Sparrow was definitely what made the movie as good as it was. As I stood there and told him how great I thought he was, he looked at me kind of disinterested, as though he heard this stuff all the time and he would just sit there and listen to it from another fan if I so wished. But he seemed nice and looked just like he does in the recent USA Today interview I saw him in, with his shoulder-length dark hair and casual clothes. I mentioned to him that my wife Lisa had seen him in his latest movie that was something about a river. He casually smiled and said very little, and I realized that his most recent movie is about him being in Mexico and dealing with the law and drugs or something like that (I saw previews of it at the last flick I went and saw several weeks ago). Not wanting to keep talking to him like some salivating fan, I said: “Good-by Johnny,” and walked away. He kind of slightly smiled in return and may or may not have even said anything to me at all the entire time – he was pretty reserved. As I walked away, I thought that maybe I should have called him Mr. Depp instead of Johnny, like calling him Johnny instead of Mr. Depp was disrespectful. As I continued walking around with some other people, checking things out, we came across a guy in his late 20s who had shoulder length blonde hair (like every other anonymous person in my dreams), and he reminded me of Kurt Cobain. I guess this was a guy that was supposed to drive the Trans Am that Moost and William had driven. Way back then, the guy indicated that he couldn’t drive the car because he had plans and because of that we were forced to make Moost and William drive the car. However, now that we saw that his plans were to come to this street party, we wondered why the hell he couldn’t have just driven the Trans Am here since that’s where he was going anyway, thus saving us the stress of wondering where our sons were right now. The guy didn’t regard us much and just walked around doing his thing and didn’t pay any attention to us, really. How fucking rude, man. What a schmuck. He should be drawn and quartered.
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