July 23, 2012 Leave a comment
OOBERS BOOK TRAILER
Christian Mystic-in-training, burgeoning Apologist, Writer, Poet, Philosopher, all-purpose Curmudgeon
July 23, 2012 Leave a comment
Last night I had an Army-college-work dream, and I woke up exhausted this morning. On any given night I’m liable to dream that I’m still a uniform-wearing Combat Medic, or that I’m back in college as usual trying to get out of class, or that I’m either driving a taxi or working patients up for a doctor. But all in one? Remind me not to mix Rice-A-Roni with gummy bears again.
Dreams have always fascinated me. As a child, I had this recurring dream that I was in a strange house rummaging around in an upstairs bedroom where I found a secret door, and upon opening it was able to see into a completely different world. Once I crossed over into that world and discovered that everything was edible. I reached up and grabbed a couple of clouds and munched them down like cotton candy. When I awoke my pillows were gone, and from that day on have had an aversion to chicken feathers.
Let’s talk about the meanings of dreams. I’ve already suggested that what we eat prior to going to sleep can influence our dreams. But that only goes so far. You can’t blame every being-chased-while-you’re-naked-in-Times-Square dream on pizza. There is a host of ‘experts’ who try to make a living telling you what your dreams are all about. Buy one of those “Dreaming for Dummies” books and you’re liable to be spending your next paycheck having your palm and the bumps on your behind read by a psychic as they’re gazing at your stars and wallet. Look, if you have a dream that your teeth are falling out, those guys will try telling you it’s all about hidden anxieties, fear of rejection or menopause. What a bunch of hooey. You probably forgot to brush your teeth before going to bed, or else you’re worried that jerk living next to you will catch you peeking at his girlfriend sunbathing and deliver a knuckle sandwich minus the pickles. Bottom line is this: they’re your dreams, and they’re custom fit for you. It’s silly to think that everyone on the planet that dreams of being naked in Times Square (ok, that’s the second time I’ve used that metaphor, but that’s the image in my head, and I’m stickin’ with it) is afraid of being exposed about something. I may be having that dream because I left my clothes at home, or forgot to pay the laundry bill, or want everyone to see my marvelous physique. Well, ok, that may be stretching it a little, but you get the idea.
The coolest dreams have got to be the ones where you can fly or leap tall buildings in a single bound or beat up a truckload of redneck demons with one foot tied behind your back. If meatloaf gives me that kind of dream, I’ll take seconds. I love it when I somersault out of a car doing eighty miles an hour, have time for a full manicure and pedicure while sailing through the air, and then land in the middle of an earthquaking tornado without messing up a single hair on my head. Those kinds of dreams are awesome, and for the record, you should never be afraid of dying if you fall and land in your dream. Just be afraid of where it bounces you. Have you ever noticed that you can jump out of an airplane in your dream with no problem, but if you’re dreaming that you’re walking down a flight of stairs and trip, you jerk like you’ve just been tazed? I hate when that happens, especially if I was headed down to the kitchen for another helping of meatloaf.
My wife says I speak in my dreams, but that I mumble so low she can’t make out what I’m saying. What she doesn’t know is that in the dreamworld I’m proficient in mumble-speak – all fifty-four dialects. I also know a smattering of gargleese and can snore in twenty nine different languages. For me, the weirdest dream is the one where I know everybody and I’m familiar with my environment like I’ve lived there all my life, but the moment I wake up I have no earthly idea where I was or who those freaky people were. Usually that sort of dream is so real I’m discombobulated for awhile upon waking. Reminds me of Chuang Tzu when he said, “I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting about in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming I am a man?” I’m not sure, but I’d lay off the Moo Goo Gai Pan for at least an hour before you go to bed next time.
I’d love to continue this conversation, but I’ve got meatloaf in my dream oven and I don’t want it to overcook. Sweet dreams!
July 4, 2012 Leave a comment
The MAN is taking a cat nap on the couch, and the BEAST is on the floor next to him. I am taking this opportunity to once again make an appeal to my new-found FELINE friends, as well as any sympathetic soul within the scope of this reading, urging assistance or advice on how to dispatch the BEAST once and for all. Since my last plea for HELP the DOG has grown even larger, and I am afraid it will never stop growing. It now has picked up the SADISTIC habit of using its weight to bowl me over so it can LICK me with its horrible, sloppy TONGUE. I am at wits end here. I spend the majority of my day grooming myself from head to toe, only to have the BEAST slobber on me and ruin my perfectly coiffed hair. I HATE this MONSTER with every fiber of my being and will go to any length to DESTROY it! I have figured out how to get the BEAST in trouble, though, and this gives me great joy! Sometimes when the conditions are right, the MAN or WOMAN will leave papers important to them, or one of their noise-making talking things on the table in front of the couch. When they are not looking I simply PUSH the items off the table and onto the floor. The simple-minded DOG thinks that everything on the floor is HERS, and she CHEWS and MAULS the items until they are unrecognizable. I LOVE to watch from afar as the MAN or WOMAN finds their possessions in the mouth of the BEAST and scolds it. Tragically, though, the MONSTER slinks around their feet and gives them such a pathetic look that they invariably FORGIVE the DOG and pick it up and coddle it. I CANNOT win for losing.
My day, when not consumed with plans to KILL the DOG, is filled with all sorts of inquiry and investigation. I do wish there were another FELINE about to bounce my questions off, because I KNOW that two CATS are better than one. For instance, all about the house, hanging from the ceiling, are these spinning bird-wing things that serve no purpose than to stir the fur around on flat surfaces. Here is a photograph of one:
Another mystery revealed itself to me the other day as I was following the MAN about the house. I have noticed that on several occasions every day the MAN goes into the WATER room and closes the door behind him. I listen through the door and hear water running, but sometimes I can hear the MAN complain about some “damned water pill”. This has always stoked my immense curiosity. Imagine a pill that has the power to create WATER! Well, the other day the MAN forgot to close the door all the way and I snuck in. Imagine my SHOCK to discover that the MAN has the ability to PRODUCE bowls FULL of WATER! I saw a tiny spigot attached to the front of him, and he was pouring gallons of water into a giant porcelin BOWL. I suspect that the bowl is connected to the other bowls around the house where there are metal spigots that can spout WATER. I have a new-found respect for the MAN! Here is a picture of the giant BOWL he filled with water:
Finally, the other day the WOMAN brought a strange object into the house that immediately caused the BEAST to go into a frothy fury. It barked and tried to bite the object without success, and upset the DOG so much that it began to VOMIT! I immediately went to the WOMAN and rubbed my gratitude all over her. However, neither SHE nor the MAN were happy with the BEAST’S reaction and tried calming it down. I am happy to report that the DOG could not be brought down from its frantic state, so the MAN had to remove the strange object from the DOG’S presence. Now I find myself obsessed with figuring out how to bring the object out for the BEAST when none of the HUMANS are home. Here is a photograph of it:
I shall have to end this missive here, as the MAN has stopped snoring and will soon wake up. Again, if ANYONE has any ideas on how to REMOVE the BEAST from this house, I will be forever grateful. Here is a picture of it asleep, the only state I can TOLERATE: