"Dream Review (9/7-9/8)"


After fighting irregular sleep patterns for months, my biological clock has settled into a schedule of 10 hours of sleep per night (as opposed to 7 hours being enough for me most of my adult life), from 2AM to Noon, Pacific Daylight Time, or “Good Morning from New Zealand”. So any attempts to contact me in the morning will be acts of futility (unless you’re in New Zealand).

Part of the ten-hour ritual appears to be a series of especially vivid dreams, oddly entertaining but usually less than adequate to be made into marketable fiction. Also, unlike most people, I am able to remember much of it, but often in ways that make it all even less coherent. Still, I intend to take this collection of Anti-Sequiturs (my own term for something that goes beyond non-sequitur) and blog them. You have been warned.

Last night (or this morning)…

Going out to see auto mechanics and medical specialists and getting them mixed up – which makes some sense because they were all in the same building. (I’m still not clear how I got my car into the building but I think I have a design for drive-thru medical clinics in my head)

Discussing the virtues of ’60s-’70s musical groups with great horn sections (Blood Sweat and Tears, Tower of Power, early Chicago) somehow leads into me performing on a store-front stage in what resembles the Santa Monica Third Street Mall as it appeared in the ’60s-’70s (fittingly), because I remember the David Clayton Thomas vocals from the old BS&T hits. However, I cannot sing like David Clayton Thomas (fact, not just part of dream) and am not a crowd-pleaser. I follow up with some stolen stand-up comedy including a penis joke from a female comic (so feminist of me) after which I discover my fly is open, but the only thing ‘exposed’ is the bottom of my tucked-in shirt.

Finally I go wandering in some unfamiliar territory and discover a ‘graveyard’ of abandoned freight containers (railroad-car sized), all containing various somethings. I won’t go into all the contents (which I’m sure are all meaningful), but just before I wake up, I find in one of them some furniture and other items from my childhood home.

As much as I like getting comments on this blog, please be restrained in your dream analysis. I think I already know what much of this means, and am trying to deal with it.

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