Crazy Dreams

Dreaming of Laserdiscs

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I had a dream last night that I was in a music shop. In the shop, they also had quite a few used laserdiscs. As a guy who still has a LD player, and as a guy who likes a bargain, I was checking tem out. Most of them were “slasher” movies: scantilly clad women running away from some gruesome killer. (One of them had the tagline “Like sex and murder? This is the movie for you!”) Not being into those kinds of movies, I kept looking. There wasn’t anything really good. I did find a copy of “Splash.” It was pretty beat up. At first, I thought “No, it wasn’t THAT good a movie.” Then I thought “Well, it DOES have Tom Hanks.” I pulled the beat-up jacket out of the bin, and the price tag read “$11.00, Rare.”

I looked at the clerk, my facial expressions reading “$11, are you kidding?” She understood my look, and said “According to the guidebook, that’s what it’s worth.” I thought to myself “Good luck selling that at ‘book value'” and put it back in the bin.

The clerk then held up a very large LD box. “Here’s the Jayne Mansfield box set: 80 laserdiscs, every movie she ever made. Interested?” I wasn’t.

That’s all I remember. Well, there was a part about me buying a restored candy green Jeep, but I don’t remember how that tied in.

Dreaming of Pastor Dave’s Gig

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Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I had a strange dream last night that I wanted to get down.

Jim Thompson and I were hanging out in the old Rockland bowling alley. It was totally different on the inside, though. It had been redone as a family fun center. It was bright white inside. There was a cafe that featured live music. There were lots of video games. There were only two bowling lanes, and they weren’t open.

In my dream it was 6:30pm. It was still light outside, so it must’ve been late summer. Jim and I were sitting at a table, enjoying some kind of spritzer drink. Pastor Dave and Josey came through the door. Pastor Dave was carrying a guitar case and one of those singer/songwriter amps. I didn’t know he was going to be there. I got up, and walked over to him, and said “Are you playing a gig here tonight? I didn’t realize that!” He said, rather shortly, “No.” He then went up on stage, set his gear down, and started setting up. His reaction wasn’t typical Pastor Dave. I could tell something was bothering him. I didn’t want to bother him more by talking to him while he was setting up, so I went and sat back down.

When he was done setting his gear up, he came and sat down with Jim and me. He wasn’t playing the gig; he was acting as a roadie for a visiting folk musician. He was renting his gear to that person.  I said something to the effect of “It’s nice to see you. I didn’t have any plans for tonight, so Jim and I came here to see the music.” Pastor Dave replied, “The ladies and I prayed for you tonight.” That’s when it hit me: I was supposed to be at a church prayer service at 6pm!

“I’m sorry, Pastor Dave! I forgot all about it! Honest, I did. You just heard me say I didn’t have any plans… I wouldn’t lie to you. I just forgot all about it.”

“It wasn’t very well attended,” Pastor Dave said. “It was just me and a couple of the older women.” I felt really bad. As a deacon, it’s my responsibility to be at services, to be ready to serve, and to be faithful. I felt like a heel. Pastor Dave got up, and went to the stage. I followed him.

When I got on stage, I could see off in the stage right wings a big envelope. It was one of those kind of plastic-y Priority Mail envelopes. I noticed it was my writing on the envelope. It was addressed to Steve Waterman’s mom! Apparently, the church had collected a bunch of cards for her when she was in the hospital. She had been moved to a long-term care center, and the hospital had returned it to sender. They had thoughtfully included the name and address of the facility where she was now. I fumed a little bit that the Post Office wouldn’t just deliver it to the now corrected address. But you know the Post Office: they want their postage times two! I looked at the date on the envelope. It was March! The envelope was about six months old!

The owner of the club noticed that I was looking at the envelope. He said to me “For some reason, the Post Office returned that here. Since you’re a musician, I figured you’d be playing in here sooner or later, and I’d just give it to you when you played a gig here. I kept forgetting to give it to you.”

Then I woke up.

Dreaming of Linc and Desirae

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I can’t remember all of last night’s dream. I remember that I was going to art school, that I had some large project due, and mine wasn’t done. I remember I was going to try and pass off some quicky creation made of cotton balls, and call it “art.” I remember seeing Desirae Page sitting on a fainting couch in a courtyard area of the college. We chatted. I complimented her on her chiseled back (she was wearing some backless halter blouse), and said something to the effect of “You probably get that from roller derby.” (Desirae actually did used to skate in roller derby. She’s now retired due to injury and is training the new peeps.) She squeezed my flabby bicep and said “What’s your back like?” I said “White, spongy, and hairy!” She laughed in that “that’s TMI and gross” kinda way. As we were chatting, Lincoln McRae walked by. We asked how he was doing. He mentioned he was trying to earn some extra cash to buy his grandfather a really nice gravestone. “He’s 100 years old,” Linc said, “and I want to make sure he’s got a nice stone to be remembered by.” (Side note: I believe Linc’s grandfather is still alive, but I don’t think he’s near 100 yet.) He showed us some samples, and why there just happened to be three gravestones nearby is beyond me. (Like the rest of this dream makes any sense anyway! Why not have three sample gravestones in a common area of an art school!)

That’s all I remember.

Crosswalk Altercation

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First, some background information. Maine law says drivers must yield to pedestrians in a crosswalk. It’s a fairly well known law here in ME, and probably all over the country. What’s not as well known is that if a pedestrian is crossing at an intersection with traffic lights, they must yield to the lights, and cross when the light is red. Now, onto my story…

I was on my way into work this morning. I was stopped at the stoplight near my house, at the intersection sometimes known in Rockland as “Five Corners.” This intersection was recently upgraded with new traffic lights, and new walk/don’t walk lights complete with countdown timers–the ones that tell you when the light’s about to change. On the opposite side of the intersection from me, a mother pushing a baby carriage with another child in tow begins to cross what is a fairly wide intersection. Knowing how long I’ve been at the intersection, I know she’ll never make it across before the light changes. In fact, almost as soon as she leaves the sidewalk, the light changes. Three lanes of traffic that should be moving through this green light are now stopped, waiting for this lady to cross. She makes no attempt to hurry across the intersection, but walks at her regular gait.

As she’s just past lane #2, the guy in the car calls out the window to her. He calls her an animal husbandry term usually reserved for female dogs. He also extended his middle phalanges. She responded by telling him to have marital relations with himself, and kept walking.

I post this because over the last few weeks, I’ve had a number of conversations with people about how many today seem to always want to put themselves first. Those of us who want to follow Christ’s teachings should always be trying to put the other person first. It shouldn’t be all about “me.” Why didn’t pedestrian wait for the light? Why didn’t she hurry when the light turned green? Was she thinking “It’s my right to cross the street”? Why did driver have to yell something–especially in front of kids. (And why did mother use equally coarse language in front of her own kids?) Why not just let the lady pushing the baby carriage pass? Was he thinking “I’m too important to have to wait for this lady?” In both situations, it appears to me that each said by their actions “I’m #1, you’re #2, yield to ME!”

Jesus said “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.” (Mark 9:35) I think that’s an important lesson, and one we should all concentrate on a little more.

Dreaming of Buddy Rich & Eggs

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I somehow was notified that I was requested to be a Buddy Rich’s* funeral. They needed a flag bearer, and they wanted not only a drummer, but somebody who was “religious.” My job was to stand on the side of the church/hall/synagogue (whatever it was), and hold the flag for the brotherhood of drummers. (There is no official brotherhood of drummers, and there really is no official flag, but apparently in this dream there was.)

I stood on the side. Nancy Pelosi stood behind me. It’d been a long time since I’d been a Boy Scout, so my flag etiquette was a little rusty. The American Flag led the procession. When it passed, I dipped the flag of the Brotherhood of Drummers. Next came the officiant. Next was Buddy’s coffin. As it passed, Nancy poked me and told me to dip the drummer flag in honor of Buddy. I didn’t think I was supposed to, but I did in difference to her.

After the procession was over, Nancy pulled me aside. She said “Why didn’t you make that sign of the cross thing, you know, like priests do? ” I said “Well, I’m not a priest. In fact, I’m not even Catholic! And, since Buddy was Jewish, I don’t think the arch diocese will mind that I didn’t make the sign of the cross.” And she said:

“The arch diocese is Catholic?”

Then I woke up. But then there was more! I fell back asleep, and was rewarded with this little number.

I was walking from my grandmother’s house to my mother’s house (they are next door to each other in real life). I was carrying three flats of eggs. These eggs had been in my grandmother’s fridge for many weeks, and no one was eating them.** I was taking them over to my mother’s house to eat them.

While crossing the lawn, I met Ron (one of my employees) and his wife Heather. Ron said “You’re not going to eat those eggs, are you?” I responded “I think they’ll be ok.” Then I said “Heather, you’re a farm girl; are these eggs ok?” (In real life, Heather’s family owns a farm.)

I pulled the top off the eggs. Each egg was in a little crocheted pouch. One was cracked. “That’s probably not one we should judge,” I said. “Let’s crack one open right here. You can look at it and smell it, and tell me if it’s ok.” Heather said she’d really rather not smell what might be a rotten egg.

The end.

*Buddy Rich was discussed at the office the last two days.
**We also have some eggs at the office. A customer brought them by for us. No one has touched them. They’ve been there for some time.

More Devil Dreams

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It’s not the first time I’ve dreamed of the Devil. Heck, it’s only been a few weeks since my last one! I don’t remember all the details. Susan and I were moving (or helping someone move) out of a very old mansion. The house was possessed by, you guessed it, Satan.  My job was to keep him at bay until we could move out. I remember I had two very old pulpit Bibles I carried around with me everywhere. Satan wanted them for some particular reason. I remember a scene in the courtyard where the Devil was giving a “pep talk” to some of the locals. As he was talking, he was slowly turning from a human form into his more natural “devil” look. And, I remember having him trapped at one point in a room. He turned into a frog and escaped down a hole used for a heating pipe. I went one floor below, and found a Haitian looking woman packing. I asked who she was, and she replied she was a servant helping us pack. I said “Or perhaps you’re the devil in human form!” She said she wasn’t, but that she had noticed the smell of brimstone in the room a few moments before. I went into the next room, and found the Devil over there.  That’s all I remember.

The Macquarium

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For those of you who haven’t checked out the other parts of my site, you might not know that I’ve built a bunch of Macquariums. Most I’ve either given away or sold, but I’ve kept one in the office for many years. My kids have been asking me to build another one, so they can have one here at home. The fish at work died a couple of weeks ago. Today, I decided I’d bring the Macquarium home the office, and set it up at home. (The kids are at camp; I was hoping to surprise them when they got home.) I was washing the tank in the sink, getting it nice and clean, when I spied a small crack in the side. It was not there when it was at the office. Then SNAP, the crack got huge, and water began pouring out. I broke the tank. I have the glass downstairs to build another tank, but not the aquarium sealant. And, it takes a total of three days to build a tank–not enough time before the kids get home. Shucks!

Dreaming of the Devil

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In the dream, I was going to visit this Catholic priest I knew: one Father Priori. Yup. The priest in my dream had a name. I walked up to his house, and knocked on his door. The door opened, and there was the priest, but it wasn’t quite him. It looked sorta like him, but he was all pasty white, like he’d been covered in hand cream and flour, or something. He was couched down, and hunched over, and looking up at me, and snarling. That’s when I realized the devil had possessed Father Priori! It caused me to throw up in my mouth. And what did I throw up? You guessed it: a turd! How my digestive system got so messed up is beyond me, but I ended up with this smallish, and very firm, poop in my mouth. And what did I do with this little fecal thingy? What would you do? I threw it at the devil! Then I woke up.

Judge Not!

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Today, the Governor of Maine signed a bill that changes Maine law to read that marriage is between two persons, not just a man and a woman. It’s certainly a hot button issue, and not really one that I want to get into with this post. In the discussions I’ve seen online and had with people, I’ve run into the “Judge not, lest you be judged” argument. Specifically, that’s what I’d like to talk about.

First, let’s look a the passage of scripture specifically. It comes from Matthew 7. This is Jesus speaking.

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”

Seems simple enough. The problem is, no one goes any further. They stop there. Let’s go on to verse 2.

“For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Here’s how I read that. “Be careful how you judge someone, because that very same yardstick you use on someone else will also be used by you.”

Jesus continues in verse three:

3“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. (Italics mine.)

Jesus isn’t telling us to not judge at all. If he were, he would of said something like “Don’t worry about the speck in your brother’s eye, for you have no right to judge him anyway.” No, instead he warns us again to make sure we ourselves have our own house in order before we go about passing judgment. It’s not right for us to condemn something if we ourselves are doing the very same thing! So before we judge someone’s actions, we’d better be sure we’re not guilty of the very same thing upon which we’re about to pass judgment. (See also Romans 2.)

And besides, whose judgment are we passing, anyways? Are we allowed to say murder is wrong? If we’re not supposed to judge, then who are we to say murder is wrong? Here’s the good part: we don’t have to say it. God did. God’s word already tells us murder is wrong. We’re not passing judgment, really, as much as we’re agreeing with the standard already set up by God himself. He’s already judged murder as wrong. We’re merely agreeing with him.

Someone on Facebook posted this one: “You, then, why do you judge your brother? Or why do you look down on your brother?” That’s from Romans 14. And it’s taken WAY out of context. Look at the passage. The passage is concerning 1) believers, and 2) “disputable matters.” The Apostle Paul is talking to two different sets of believers: one set doesn’t eat meat, another group does. What Paul is saying is “Don’t get worked up over something that isn’t a big deal. Decide for yourself if a ‘questionable matter’ is right or wrong. Then stick with that. And if another Christian doesn’t subscribe to that teaching, so be it. Don’t get bent out of shape about it. Love your fellow Christian just the same.”

People are not going to agree about this topic. I understand that. My hope today is that people will become a little more informed, and not just throw out the “Don’t judge” argument. It’s not really valid.

Pizza Delivery Dreams

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In the dream, I was in the parking lot of the Rockland AutoZone. For some reason, they were advertising some family pizza special from Snappy’s. I called Susan, and asked if she wanted me to pick up some pizza. She said she did, and that she was at my sister’s. She asked that, if Lisa wanted something, would I be willing to pick it up. I said “Sure.” I left it for her to call them and place the order.

Fifteen minutes or so elapse. I’m cleaning the trash out of my car. The Snappy’s guy shows up with the order. He hands me a bag with about four 2-liter bottles of soda in it. I figured “Wow, Lisa really did want something!” I’m putting the sodas in the back of my station wagon, and the guy pulls the pizza out of the car. I can see the guy eyeing my car visually measuring the width of my doors. He’s holding three or four huge pizzas. He’s handing them to me, and they’re super heavy! “I hope you’ve got a way to get these in your car. And I hope you have a way to pay for all this.”

“How much is the tab?” I ask.

“About $70,” he said.

“I don’t have that kind of cash on me,” I said.

“Well, I think I’ll need to take those back then,”

“You want to re-load those back into your car?” I asked. “Look, I bank at the credit union, and that’s right down the road. Why don’t you follow me there, and I’ll get some cash out of the ATM?”

He agreed. Then I woke up.