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March 2002

Mar 11 - Mar 12 - Mar 15 - Mar 22 - Mar 23 - Mar 31



March 11, 2002

I was at an area that reminded me of the beach at Case Inlet on the property that my folks used to own back when I was a wee lad. I was on an area on the beach that led to a path that in turn led to the upper paths where we could walk back to the cabin that my folks built and owned there on that property. This particular trailhead was where I had actually drug a man-made raft dad made for me back in the early 70s when I was, yes, a wee lad - the spot where Charles and I started dragging it up onto the path from the bench and boy was it a bitch. In this dream, this is where Lisa, William, and myself started walking up from off the beach. Lisa was the first in line. She worked her way up the initial 6-feet-high embankment, which was muddy and dirty, and not an easy climb. She went off to the left once she reached the top of this initial climb — I remember seeing her waddle on her hands and knees to get to where she needed to go. Next in line was William and he crawled up the same path that Lisa took; however, he was too small to walk upright among the foliage and tree roots that were there so he had to get down on all fours and trudge through the underbrush that way. He was wearing a T-shirt that he used to wear that is a blue-green color and has the cut-off sleeves. He was in front of me as he crawled up this hill, and because he was too small to walk up this path (the size he was when he was about 5), he had to crawl under the three 1/2–inch-sized tree roots that snaked and crisscrossed across the two-feet-wide dark brown dirt pathway. I watched as he wriggled his way under the tree roots and then up and to where Lisa was. This path we took eventually led to a pathway where there were many trees to the left of us, and the beach was somewhere down there over a cliff to the right of us. There were other people among us at this point, or maybe they had been there the entire time, or maybe I just have no idea what the hell I’m talking about. The woods surrounding us were spindly, short growths of pines that were 5 to 15 feet high, the green and burnt red color of their pine needles vivid in my mind. We walked along a path and the beach was suddenly no longer around as the sparse minimum-height forest engulfed us. The sky was a milky white overcast color, if you can imagine that. Along this path to the left of us, on a cliff, was a tree that was around 12 feet high. This tree was two feet thick and the upper part of it was an anaconda. The lower half of the tree, up to about the 6-feet height, was covered in grayish bark and there was a 4-inch-thick dying branch or two snaking from the side of this tree. The upper four feet or so of the tree metamorphosed into the front part of an anaconda snake. This snake part of the tree was erect, standing straight up and pointing toward the sky as if it were also a tree. The head of the snake was large, around 4 feet in length as it stared straight into the sky above. I got the feeling that the eye of the snake, a glassy, dark thing, looked at me as I approached it, although I don’t think it actually moved — it simply stared in my direction. There was something very special about this particular tree, like it was a pet or something, and I felt a close bond with it. The upper part of the tree, which was the gray, scaly front portion of an anaconda, was very much alive and I knew it was able to move, but because it was also part of a tree then it acted like one instead of snaking around and checking out to see what was happening around it. The wide, slit for a closed mouth, the rounded snout of a huge Asian snake — all these characteristics and more made this tree/snake an undeniably special entity. I approached the tree snake and gave it a hug because, as I mentioned before, I had a very special bond with it. I managed to wrap my legs around the trunk of this thing and was actually several feet off the ground as I hugged this thing. As I was on the upper portion of this tree I looked down and saw huge flat troughs encircling the tree’s trunk. They were made from wood, 2x6’s 3 feet long to be exact, and were clamped onto the tree with thick gray U-bolts that grasped the tree then attached the boards with large bolts. There was a space of one foot between the flat, vertical boards and the tree and this gap was filled with large, smooth-stone gravel. I had the impression that these troughs full of stones were put there in place by Indians long ago. At this point I noticed that the portions on the lower part of this tree snake curled outward in huge curled wisps of etched shavings like a giant banana being peeled. These curled things were a foot thick and curled outward then coiled outward and inward like a curly-Q thing. They were a golden, brass color and gave me the impression that they were made of metal, like a wrought-iron designed thing. I got the feeling that this tree was just one of numerous sites these people that were also with me were here to see, like they were at the zoo and this snake tree thing was one of the many sites in this exhibit of animals that they could see.


March 12, 2002

I was at a Costco gathering, like some kind of Costco company party. There were a lot of people at this place, which could have been a corporate office or just someone’s living room. I can’t recall anyone except a few people, one of them being Zeman, the guy who stocks the freezer at work. He and I were hitting it off, talking like good friends, and I think that was because he had been drinking and good God you know how people get when they’re snockered. Zeman and I were standing there in one part of a room somewhere, talking about stuff, and then he smiled a large, toothful grin. This was strange because if I had ever seen Zeman smile it was only modest smirks, nothing like this large beam he was laying on me now. The smile was an omen of something he was about to say, and what he said was: “Yeah, Menson’s all for the idea.” And then he paused and I stood there and waited for him to continue because, obviously, he had to tell me what “Menson’s all for the idea” meant. I did know that he referred to Menson, the guy at work who usually stocks the freezer as well. Zeman eventually went on to explain further what he started to say. He said: “Menson’s all for the idea of you, me, and Ruth in the freezer . . .” and then he continued talking about how I would be a part of the regular stocking crew at Costco. This was good news, showing me that I was being accepted as a part of their team and they considered me to be “one of them,” so to speak. This showed me that Zeman liked the work I did and wanted me to be a part of the regular stocking crew. As we stood there at this party, there was music playing. The tunes were nothing spectacular, just the usual contemporary pop/soft rock shit you usually hear on the radio these days. As I listened to the songs, I started becoming one with them — instead of just listening to them I was actually in their videos. This happened in different phases. The first phase was very vague. I watched and was part of a music video where someone was performing a song. The song wasn’t strong or hard, it was probably a ballad of some kind, and I watched as a guy sang it as he sat down and strummed nicely on his little guitar. He looked like Kurt Cobain. After the song was over it started from the beginning, probably because whoever had control of the music at this party liked it so much that they/it/she/he played it again. Instead of just listening to the song, however, it was like I was among the band as they performed this song. The guys performing this hard, fast, and loud song were dressed as evil clowns. One of the clown faces I saw reminded me of that clown face on the video cover for the movie Killjoy. It was like that heavy metal band called Slipknot, where the band members dressed up in shocking attire to make an extra buck instead of just relying on the quality of their music. I can still distinctly remember the song and it resembles no song I have heard before, so this is kinda cool. Here I am, getting another great idea for a song that would not have come to me unless I had this dream. How cool is that? The rhythm and licks were really fast, and it’s hard for me to write here just how this song went, but let me try to explain. In the movie Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, there’s a scene were Beethoven gets arrested in the mall because he was playing really fast stuff on an electric piano. Those licks he played there were similar to what the guitar was playing in this dream — it wasn’t that song but that’s the closest thing I can compare it to so you can understand what I heard. The song continued and the evil clowns bopped and hopped around, making their evil video. As their song persisted and I continued to live in the video of it being ripped through the air, I saw someone twirling and walking down the street next to a fence. This was a guy who reminded me of Manfred, the guy at Costco who usually participates in sundries stocking. He twirled and spun a round like he was Mrs. Howell on sugar beets. As he twirled and whirled next to the fence, it looked as though he was brushing it with a paintbrush. The fence was a 5-feet-tall piece of work and was a picket model, just like the kind you (or me anyway) would imagine that Norman Rockwell Tom Sawyer youth standing next to and brushing away. The sundry-stocking Manfred whirled and spun down the street as the evil clown heavy metal tune slashed the fabric of sound.


March 15, 2002

There was a guy who owned a place in the woods. The man was a mid-30s type of dude with short brown hair and he was wearing a white T-shirt and his thighs and legs were probably hugging Levi’s. As I view the place where he lived, there is a house to the right that looks like a one-story jobee. There is a white shed to the left up and around 30 feet away. It is about the size of an outhouse and is made out of tin siding, the kind that the shed on the back of my yard is made of, like you really know what that is seeing how you don’t visit the back of my yard regularly. I know that this shed, however, is where this guy grows marijuana. I also know at this time there are no pot plants in the shed but that he either planned to grow them there at a later date or he had grown them there but removed them for now. In this dream I had a pot plant for some reason and I felt like putting it in this shed of his, either for safekeeping or to just get rid of it and figured this shed of his would be a good place to put the plant. There was an ulterior motive, I believe; I put the pot plant there so someone would find it later, assume it was his, and therefore he would get in trouble for growing pot on his property. The plant I put in the shed was a 4-feet-tall nice-looking thing, but it wasn’t a brilliant green and may have been kind of limp due to lack of water and from the shock of being transferred/replanted. This reminded me of the plants I had growing in the back room of the trailer I lived in back in 1981, in Trailer Zone I. After I placed the pot plant in there, which was in a light-colored flower pot, much like the one I have now that is no longer in use, I locked the shed with a padlock that was there in the metal latch halfway up the door. The latch was the fold-over kind where a thin metal slat with a horizontal slit in it fit over the protruding U-shaped hole for the padlock bar to fit into, much like the one I have on the two sheds in the back of my yard. Later on the police were at this guy’s property and were looking around, probably because they thought he had been growing pot there or something. The guy in his white T-shirt showed the cops around his property, acting cool as hell because there was no incriminating evidence anywhere to convict him of anything; well, none that he knew of. He didn’t know that I had put a marijuana plant into the tin outhouse-looking shed thing right there on the left corner of his property so he just strutted his stuff, portraying an air of someone who had absolutely nothing to hide. I was not there when this was going on but because this is a dream I certainly could see it happening. I secretly wished that he would get caught but the police never did check out his shed, which kind of surprised me because that would have been the obvious place to check. This place in the woods was a secluded piece of real estate, with the darkness of dense forests surrounding it completely. As this guy walked around with the two or three police humans that were with him, he said something about how if he was guilty of anything then his property would have been flooded with water and there would be numerous animals like goats and sheep roaming around it, but as you can now see officers, there is none of that so I must not be guilty of anything! It makes no sense, I know, but in this dream, earlier sometime, although I cannot remember it master, there was water flooding the property and there were animals scampering about like goats and sheep, which, in some way, meant that the guy was guilty of something. What this guy was doing when he mentioned this to the cops, I realize, is what I often do in real life; mention things that show my guilt to make people think: “Well, he can’t be guilty then because he would not have pointed out these things that would prove his guilt!”


March 22, 2002

I was thinking about taking on a job as a truck driver. The truck I was going to drive was a mid-size truck like a UPS truck, only a little bigger. I don’t know why I was doing this because I certainly do not have time to do this extra job because my schedule is full enough as it is, but I felt like I was trying to prove some point, like to show that I could do multiple things and excel at all of them or something like that. There were two guys who I talked to about doing this trucking job, just the regular 30-year-old guys with short brown hair that always appear in my dreams. One of the guys may have been dressed in short khaki UPS shorts, the dark brown type, as well as wearing the official UPS shirt to boot. We discussed the route I would be doing. The next step was for me to familiarize myself with the truck so I started driving it around inside of a house. Normally this would have crashed everything in sight but I managed to maneuver this truck around the hallways and stairwells inside this house without breaking anything or causing any damage. There were people in this house I was driving around in and they were getting pretty upset at me driving this truck around and around their house like I was on the freeway, but again, I didn’t damage anything, which showed that since I was able to handle this truck inside of this house, then I could certainly drive it well enough to do the trucking job. I never stopped to think how impossible it would be to drive a truck of any size throughout a house without causing any damage, but because I had I gained the confidence of the guys who were showing me the ropes. I then talked to the two guys who were training me; one was the boss and the other was just another truck driver dude. They may have pulled out a map of some kind and showed me the route I was to be assigned. The first stop on my route was to be somewhere in Oregon, I believe, and the second stop was to be in Auburn, Washington. I asked about the first stop and the boss man indicated that it was 270 miles away. This didn’t seem to faze me, but it certainly should have because I had to work the next morning and there was no way in hell I could drive 270 miles one way, then return, then do another stop in Auburn, then finish this task before having to go to work the next morning, so I am kind of confused as to just what the hell I was trying to do here. Obviously I could not perform the job so what was going through my head? I’m not sure, trying to prove I’m Superman or something. But ahywho, I asked my boss some details about the job, such as just exactly where was I going that was 270 miles away and once I got there, what was I to do — pick something up or drop something off because isn’t that what truck drivers do? The boss man told me that I would be picking something up at a certain company. I asked for an address but he never did give me one. He started to tell me but what I remember is him telling me to pick something up at . . . and he never did give me an address, just the name of a place or a vague reference of where I should go. I started to become concerned because obviously I couldn’t just drive to a destination 270 miles away and know just where to go without being told where it was. Then my boss pulled a watch out of his pocket, the rounded, gleaming silver edged kind that had a two-inch glass face with a cover you could flip open and is often pictured as a pocket watch, not the kind you wear on your wrist. This watch had something to do with the stars in the sky and as I was completely confused by all of this, my boss continued to add fuel to that fire. I was to meet a woman at this place that was 270 miles away, he explained, and I was supposed to recognize her by the number of teeth she had in her head. This watch, with its reference to the stars in the night sky, would let me know how many teeth she had and, therefore, verify that she was the contact for me to make and pick up the stuff in my truck.


March 23, 2002

I was in a band that played pretty good music, not the rock stuff I usually soak up but the new wave, Yanni/John Tesh stuff that I also enjoy. I do know that the music was mostly centered around the piano playing of someone in the band, but that someone wasn’t me. I think I played the guitar, or the bass guitar. Our band was set up in a theatre-type place where the stage was down low and was approximately 20 feet round. The seats, around 250 of them, went up to the front, right and left sides of us in stadium fashion, leaving us at a lower level than the audience. It was pretty dark in there, like what a movie theater would be like with a dim showing on the screen. I remember seeing Miranda there somewhere in the audience. Then there was a loud voice over the PA system that indicated there was a special announcement to be made. The announcement was that there would be a special presentation of cheesy French-fry piano songs. What does that mean? I’m not even sure. Something about how the keys of the piano were immersed in a cheesy sauce as well as protruding ends of French fries. This, apparently, was something that added a good sound to the music. I don’t recall the music that had been played but I do know that two songs were performed. However, I don’t specifically recall participating in any of the tunes and suddenly I felt out of place. I remember seeing a bass guitar propped up against an amp toward the back of the stage and also there was a bright light that shown toward the stage. It came from above and in the back of the auditorium, like it was a spotlight that was part of the stage show. However, this light was extremely bright and blinded me when I looked into it. I felt compelled to leave the set because of this light, like because it was on me then that meant I was out of place and didn’t belong. The only way to escape this light was to exit the stage. There may have been other band members behind the bass guitar and amp who were looking at me as I left the stage. They eyed me over quietly as I walked off the stage and started walking up the aisles between the seats in the theater. For some reason I was wearing sunglasses, which made things a lot harder to distinguish in the gloom of this already dark place. I was also wearing my trench coat and, as I walked briskly up the aisle and out of this place, I could feel the many eyes of the many concert-goers upon me as I left, and I wondered what they all thought about me.


March 31, 2002

I remember seeing a number of greenhouse-type structures. These buildings were around 20 feet long and 10 feet wide. I don’t actually recall any plants in these buildings but because they seemed to be constructed out of translucent plastic or similar-shaded glass, it gave them the appearance of greenhouses. The place where these greenhouses were was on a chunk of property that was like an apple orchard with many 12 to 15 feet tall trees surrounding the structures. I’m not sure how many buildings there were total, but I do recall at least two or three clearly. I viewed them from outside and I could see through their walls and what was going on inside. Inside were people hanging from the rafters, nooses around their necks and the ropes attached to the roof supports above them. I recall one building specifically in which there was a person hanging, and standing on the ground in front of the body were two men. They were facing away from me so I never saw what they looked, although the one on the right was short and balding, while the on the left was 6-feet-tallish with short brown hair. They looked up at the hanging corpse and seemed to be holding a clipboard, which gave me the impression they were taking notes on the progress of the hanging of this particular person.

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