Rainy Sat; Dream a Little Dream

Yesterday was rainy and chilly. I got up early, or at least early for me on a Saturday, to take momsy to lunch for her birthday which is later this week.

For the first time, the restaurant staff seemed disorganized. Momsy didn't want to sit in the middle, so she requested a booth. We waited and no one appeared. Someone appears but then disappears saying it was someone else's table. We wait and finally the right server drops by.

After I took momsy home, I wanted to go back to bed. But the laundry waits for no one. Lug! Lug! Lug! The experience was nothing to write home about, and I didn't see anyone who caught my fancy. Home again, home again! Lug! Lug! Lug! Etc.

All day I felt dis-com-bob-ula-ted, as though there was something I was supposed to be doing. But I couldn't figure out what it was.

I open the back door onto a large concrete deck. My car is on the deck about ten feet away in the corner, or at least I know it's my car, but I don't look at it. There are thick bushes growing up above the deck so that I can't see beyond it.

I go down the steps on the south side of the deck, and there's an old firetruck in my drive. On either side of the drive are more thick bushes. To the left, near the street, off the drive are a couple of firefighters and several other people standing by a large sports car with the top down. It may be a vintage Mercedes.

I stop at the edge of the house, and I glance around. (I'm facing north.) It feels warm and is very bright; the shadows are very dark and very short and slightly to everyone's right which tells me it's a little after noon.

Next door, there are dozens and dozens of people in the drive and even into the street waiting to enter the carport where a sale i underway. Everyone has on bright clothes, but the styles are from the 50s. Not retro, but the real items. I see the backs of several upturned mattresses in the carport. There's also a feeling that this scene is disconnected from my yard. That's it's not actually there; it's more akin to a mirage.

I approach the car. There's one firefighter in the back; another, on the left. Both are wearing regulation dark blue pants, tight white undershirts and heavy leather crossed suspenders. There's also a young guy behind the firefighter on the left, another in the front, and another outside on the right. All three look alike (cousins, I think), are shirtless with golden tans, and wearing old dark blue jeans. The kids are lean, while the firefighters are far bulkier. I now know that the car belongs to the firefighter on the left, and he had bought it that morning.

As I move forward, the guy in the front looks slightly startled and disappears onto the floor. Everyone then turns to look at me. I get the impression no one had seen me until that moment. Was I invisible until then? Suddenly, there's the sweet smell of burning marijuana; it's coming from the kid in the front. I smile and say don't worry, I've known about it since the summer of love. And everybody looks blank and very puzzled.

And somehow I realize this is the 50s. But then it strikes me that I'm not from the 50s. That I've gone back in time. I'd appeared moments before opening the door. But that's all I know. I just know I'm in the past, but I don't know why. And there's no memory of coming back.

OK! You're saying. "Isn't it time we got back to planet earth!" Certainly one of the most vivid dreams. Almost akin to a vision. I also felt there was some mutual attractions among the firefighters and the teens. And if the dream had gone on a little longer, who knows what would have happened.

PAX!