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Truth.
Another festival dream. These seem to be a regular pandemic thing.

I'm at some festival and RM has a wall of vintage items for sale - posters, T-shirts, that sort of thing. It's a fundraiser and the prices are high. A lot of the vols are surveying the lot eagerly. I take a look and realize I have all of the stuff offered already. I fight the temptation to rant about this to the nooBs. Instead I head out to the concert hall to listen and dance. I'm happy to be there, but then I realize that the pandemic is still going and I don't have a mask. Super spreader event blinks in ultrabright red neon in my brain. 

I wake up disappointed that there was no cheese. 

[There's been activity with RM selling logoed scrubs - something I wouldn't really want - and JAH Med moving into vaccine distribution. It been making me feel out of the loop because I'm not certified to shoot and I'm not going to cert now, but a lot of my medical friends are posting pix of them getting there shot and it's giving me major FOMO. I'm missing concerts so much but I've managed to push that down in my consciousness. It bubbles up now and again - so much so that I'm tempted to create a 'concert dreams' thread here. However, we discuss the pandemic so much here and I'm eager for these threads to end]
I dreamt about teaching Kung Fu again. The dream was a basic lesson - like how I'd start with the class - nothing surreal or dreamy, just a flat dream as if it was happening in some alternate dimension that was the same as here but without a pandemic.
[I've been hoping to get back to teaching at the Academy. It's been on my mind for some time. It was on the table for my brief stint working for FBU and I coached some classes at the Academy when they 'officially' closed. They are still closed until the surge subsides. Additionally, I just started doing my regimen again. That had fallen to the wayside since we got Yuki, mostly out of my own depression]

I went back to sleep and dreamt of when Tara was young. She called to me to escort her somewhere in the dark, like to go to the bathroom or something - that wasn't clear. I woke feeling nostalgic and somewhat sad that those magical days of fatherhood when solving problems for my daughter so simply are long gone. 
[I think this might have come out of one of the videos I watched recently - there were a few episodes of children in peril in The Witcher and Arsene Lupin.]
I'm headed to a concert with S&T and a friend of T's. It's in a city, probably SF but the hall is huge and unrecognizable. It's some sort of pop symphony and it's free but we have tickets. They jaywalk across the street to get to a side entrance and I lose them. I head towards the front but then realize on my way in that I'm packing my everyday folder blade. I find a place to tuck it outside in a series of cubbies that appear for no reason as things do in dreams. As I approach the search at the door, I realize I have another knife in my pocket, my second everyday carry (I really only carry one). As I'm frisked, I carefully obscure it with strategic placement of my hand. It takes forever, but I finally get through. The lobby is huge and confusing and in my rush, I resort to asking directions from an usher (actually I usually do this now to make them feel useful). As I'm entering the hall, some performers are leaving the stage in Star Trek TNG uniforms because they just did some kind of tribute and I'm saddened I missed that. I finally reunite with my family and they look at me like 'What took you so long?'

[I have no idea what this means but I woke up right after at 4:19AM http://www.brotherhoodofdoom.com/doomFor...0#pid44910]
I was looking at rocks that people had painted using pixelated images from thermal imaging photos. Then in my dream I thought that I needed to post it on the dream thread on the forum.
The other night I sat bolt upright in bed with a yell, pushing something away.  LCF checked to see that I was okay and awake, then let me go back to sleep.

It wasn't until the next day, around noon, that LCF asked me if I remembered what I'd been dreaming about.  Yep, I said, even before she'd finished.  "Well, then, what was it?"

I asked her not to be sending me to a therapist, then related it.

In the dream, I was just a boy again.  I'd said something smart-alecky, which I sometimes did, or something that sounded smart-alecky, and unfortunately my dad was in hearing distance.  He chewed me out, telling me how screwed up I was, and then he decided to teach me an important lesson.  He was holding a hammer, and he was going to nick my ear with it.  So he swung that hammer and he just missed -- I suppose because it isn't easy to nick someone's ear with a hammer.  So then he decided to nick me in the chest with the hammer.  As he swung, that's when I sat up in bed with a yell and tried to push the blow away.

Yeah, my dad was never one for subtle lessons.  And he didn't tolerate any kind of silliness.  You didn't ask questions either; you just did what you were told.  There was no room for debate.  That crippled us four kids going out into the world, because any time we encountered something we didn't agree with, we thought the only possible response was to pout, and be bitter about it.  We'd have been a disaster on a debate team, because we never realized debate was possible.

Of course, Dad was a product of his own upbringing, and his lack of parenting skills were the result of his own parents' shortcomings -- in particular, his father, who never took the time to play with the kids (6 of them), and who, on the spur of the moment, abandoned the family to go seek a fortune in Texas during the oil rush.  The family squeaked by on the kindness of  a couple relatives, who nudged food their way so they didn't starve, until the father returned penniless months or years later.  The long-suffering wife (Dad's mom) accepted him back without a word, so the story goes.  Then there was Dad's younger brother who was hit by a drunk driver on the edge of their yard, and though the doctors said he wouldn't survive, he did, but wheelchair bound for life, and I think it fell to my dad to take care of him, and entertain him, and later on make us kids play with him (helping him shoot baskets from the wheelchair, retrieving the ball for him).

Anyway, I do have a whole lot more respect for my dad than I used to, because he had a hard life, in what I related, and in other things I didn't..  But man, he could be a cold mean son-of-a-something.

I've told LCF I want to upgrade my bedside weapon from a staff to a hammer within reach on the nightstand, just so I stand a chance of defending myself in my sleep.  But she's threatening to move out on the sofa.
I'm in a bed with the Yeti at my old off campus housing at UCSB. The yeti complains he couldn't get any sleep because all the sheets were tangled. I go off to the bathroom allowing the Yeti a chance to straighten the sheets and go to sleep. A buzzer goes off from the refrigerator because the door isn't closed all the way. I quickly shut it. Then a bunch of people, including tQ, show up.
(05-12-2021, 03:52 PM)Greg Wrote: [ -> ]I'm in a bed with the Yeti 

I stopped reading here. Oh my virgin eyes!
Like it's a rare occurrence or something.
Brought in to remix a Def Lepperd album. They all seemed to know me.
I've been having an inordinate amount of dreams set at concerts and festivals lately. I blame flashbacks... or withdrawal.

I recently had a dream where I bumped into some old SJSU fencers - Craig, Susie, maybe Dirk - They were all wearing their team jackets. I thought 'I know where my jacket is. I should bust that out and join them.' This was probably due to all the school colors I'm seeing here for UCSD commencement.
(06-13-2021, 09:21 AM)Drunk Monk Wrote: [ -> ]I've been having an inordinate amount of dreams set at concerts and festivals lately. I blame flashbacks... or withdrawal.

I recently had a dream where I bumped into some old SJSU fencers - Craig, Susie, maybe Dirk - They were all wearing their team jackets. I thought 'I know where my jacket is. I should bust that out and join them.' This was probably due to all the school colors I'm seeing here for UCSD commencement.

is "Craig" Mr. Van der Voorhen? He and I worked at the SJSU Special Collections library together. We also ran for SJSU student body one year as the HOG party (Hedonistic Opportunist Guild). I think he was the VP candidate and I was the Activity Director, or something like that. Dave (forget his last name) was our presidential candidate. Our platform was that students should be able to use their dining card at the Spartan Pub for beer. I think I did a Spartan Daily candidate lineup interview where I said that there was an apathetic majority of students on campus and were a pathetic group of candidates. What ever happened to Craig?

--tg
No way! I never knew that connection tg. How cool is that?

Craig visited me at Tiger Claw maybe a decade ago. He brought his prepubescent son, who was full of the devil and another classic case of son-to-pop karma. Craig had lost most of his hair which was striking as he was a bit of a long hair in college like me. We had lunch and it was delightful catching up. 

When Greg started working on STRO, I looked for his contact but couldn't find it. He would've had pix of Sméagol, the legendary snake mascot of the SJSU team. I think we reconnected over facebook but no luck there. I honestly can't remember and am still bummed about losing his digits because I was looking forward to reconnecting with him.
If you ever reconnect, let me know…it would be fun to say hi

—tg

The HOG party pulled in a respectable 11% of the student body votes that election:

https://scholarworks.sjsu.edu/cgi/viewco...artandaily

—tg
I'll check my contacts. One of them was going to contact Craig or did contact Craig to ask about the Smeagol picture.
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