Friday, August 5, 2016

Tropical Dreams


We’ve had some seriously warm temperatures and high humidity around these parts lately. In fact, the weather has felt downright tropical. 

Recently, as a result of the sultry nights where my curtains have not stirred and the frogs out back were busily singing the song of their people in the most lusty of tones, I had a series of disturbing dreams.

About two weeks ago, I dreamed there was a large crowd gathered in a huge hall which appeared to be festooned in patriotic colors. It was full of people, some angry, some jubilant and many wearing foolish contraptions on their heads. These people didn’t appear to be cowboys yet were wearing their hats while others wore headgear resembling an elephant but this was neither a safari nor a rally to protect endangered species.
 
The very next week, I had another dream. Again, many people in various stages of emotion were gathered in a large space and they, too, wore silly things upon their heads. This time, the hats resembled donkeys but many wore little green Robin Hood caps, too. Odd, I thought, as I wondered if, like that storied denizen of Sherwood Forest, they advocated stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.

Claime to fame: Starring role on hit TV show
Claim to fame: His father invented
a duck whistle
In my dream, these gatherings had more in common than not. There were many idiots who received a turn to speak but, as the tropically induced images unfolded, they possessed nothing but the spectral illusion of minor celebrity. Yet, in both dreams, there were other speakers who made valid, authentic and even emotionally wrenching pleas to follow one way or the other and each group presented a balance of pathos and rage, stupidity and inanity. 

Troubled, I struggled to wake as I do when I realize I’m having a bad dream. Seth tells me that, in my sleep, I mumbled things about a “third party,” but he just thought I was dreaming I was at a party and let me sleep on.

Both dreams hosted a large percentage of prominent speakers who appeared to have benefited from the privilege of good orthodontics. Was this a dental convention, I wondered but soon understood that these dreams were actually about leadership. As the discord levels in the large gathering spots swelled and ebbed, my sleep grew more restless.
"How big of an ass am I? This much!"
"Well, duh. I'm loaded.

Soon the leaders’ spouses took the stage. One appeared to be some sort of trophy wife qualified to speak by a great ass and good make-up while the other was, apparently, a former leader beset by scandal both sexual and financial who through hollow charm has managed to keep himself in the public eye. 

Later, in both dreams, each aspiring leader was introduced….one by a well-spoken, life-size Barbie Doll, the other by a spooky robot .
Spooky vs. Barbie
I continued the battle to wake but, instead, remained mired in what was now a full blown nightmare as each leader emerged.


One had beady eyes and a head of hair that defied the imagination of even the most phantasmic hairdresser. It was more like the floating gables of the Sydney Opera House than hair, more like a tumbleweed caught in a bramble, unable to continue its journey back to the desert. 



The second aspiring leader wore all white. Was she a virgin, a bride, an orderly in an asylum? Or, was she the leader of a terrifying cult? Was that a leftover speck of soylent green from lunch on her otherwise pristine vestments? As both leaders spoke, they alternately covered doom and redemption or sharing and caring. 

Both did a lot of pointing into the audience to imaginary friends as they attempted to connect with their be-hatted public but, to me, they were both scary, both equally full of testosterone and both pretty lousy speakers.

The two nightmares ended on a good note: more balloons than I have ever seen in one place, cascading from some hidden cache and -- since this was a dream – inflated by magic as opposed to what, in reality, would have been thousands of balloon filling minions who later died from both exhaustion and helium toxicity. In my sleep, Seth says I reached out, accidentally hitting him in the head as I flailed but I was simply batting balloons about, enjoying the one truly uplifting moment in each dream.


I hope, as the summer turns to fall and the weather cools, the fresh air will foster better dreams than those I experienced in July. 







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