Rough Transcript of a Dream

I was with someone, Alison, I think. We had a choice of two movies to see, both seemed good. We chose a fantasy adventure. It wasn't really a movie, but an environment which we entered, walking up a trail into some woods. Flying animals zoomed by, firing arrows or something like arrows, lightning bolts maybe. It was all great fun, and stunningly beautiful, because even though we were not watching it on a screen but actually walking through it, we were not in it either, we were not elements in the movie if that makes any sense. We were spectators.

Other vague events lead to our meeting up with Jerry Seinfeld, who took us on the Seinfeld Tour, a series of rooms which were sets/scenes from various episodes of "Seinfeld."

The details were rich: a bureau with Jerry's watch and wallet on it, and a silver bracelet he wore (I don't recall ever seeing him wear one on the show, but it was there); a table and chairs in a dining room, all well appointed and detailed; other rooms, hallways, shops, etc.

Here's the best part: Jerry told us that everything we saw: walls, carpet, furniture, plates, Jerry's watch, kitchen gadgets, even his silver bracelet, EVERYTHING was made of chocolate and we could help ourselves to any of it. I took a bite of his Palm Pilot and it was a delicious chocolate cake with cream filling. I broke off a corner of the table, a piece of thick rich dark chocolate. Sure enough everything was good quality chocolate and we ate what we pleased. Other "Seinfeld" characters drifted in and out as we walked through the rooms.

Disturbing and startling was that it all seemed very vivid and real.

That, and wondering where the hell this stuff came from.

How did all this shit get into my head?

That's it.

Oh, and a few exploding mailboxes, but I have a pretty good idea where that came from.

Life, and so on...

Does lightning ever strike twice in the same place? Of all the things I've ever felt and done, I'm beginning to believe there's only one that can never happen again.
And that is incredibly sad.

Into the Ether

Today I picked up my first paycheck since leaving Lowe's in July. Momentous.

I would only go back to New York City if I could be sure of catching a ride in Ben Bailey's Cash Cab, and only if I could have Jesse, Nick, and Alison with me. I don't think there's any question Ben could ask that we couldn't answer among the four of us, including the Video Bonus.

The snows of December are just about gone, thanks to copious amounts of rain and temperatures above 40 F. Mount Hood glowed in the golden setting sun as I drove home this afternoon. Tomorrow is the full moon, already hanging high in the sky over the mountain.

Oh, would that Godzilla were real; then we'd have something to talk about. "The Simpsons" isn't enough, no.

Urban legends told in training classes about horrific traffic accidents put me to sleep. Fast food lunches take years off my life.

I ran over a fallen branch one dark and rainy morning. It flew up and cracked my driver's side mirror. Heavy rains cause coastal flooding and highway closures. Many truckers are stranded, waiting for the waters to recede and the roads to reopen.

Dunkin Donuts advertises on TV here although there is no Dunkin Donuts here. Joe's Donuts in Sandy are supposed to be excellent; their building is painted in red and white checks. I ate two donuts from Joe's at the Sandy Post Office January 2nd. I was not impressed.

Read any good books lately? Seen any movies? Can yodeling cure cancer? That's some mighty fine spelunkin', Lew; mighty fine spelunkin'.

Opera and Professional Wrestling are very much alike except for the music, singing, and plots.

4 of a kind beats a flush. A fresh cupcake can make a delicious snack. I invoke my Fifth Amendment rights. Shut up.