Weird Dream #18,437

 Another incredibly weird dream .....

This one was at least based in something I can understand, once loved and have many fond memories of. Sunday evenings of pickup basketball with friends and acquaintances. Taking place on 98-99% of the Sunday evenings over 20-30 years (and an occasional Saturday or Monday) we would gather, share stories and spread bullshit while we warmed up, shoot free throws to form teams and hoop until we had had enough which would generally work out as 6:00-8:30pm. I eventually came to think of it as "geezer ball" as most of us were close in age with the exception of guys bringing their teenage and 20-something sons and daughters along. We all grew older together. There was a core group of 8-10 regulars, another group of 10 or so semi-regulars and a plethora of random others who might get an invite. The numbers almost always worked out so we could have one game going with a few others who had, "next" status.  

This was the setting for my latest dream that transitioned into the 'outer limits.' It became weird in some of the people who showed up and things that happened. Like a current college basketball player dropping in to play and a bulldozer somehow getting inside the gym and digging up a section of the court while we scrambled to grab a rebound at the other end of the floor.

There was more strangeness and oddities that played out, but it's faded into the gloaming after a few hours of being awake.

Dream a Little Dream

Had some wild and odd dream last night. I don't recall much of it now other than I had walked out of a cafe leaving several personal items behind, climbed somewhere high and reached a point where I felt helpless and panicked while seeing no way to get back down. And my mother had a cameo appearance in the dream though I don't recall what it was. I don't have a clue what it all .... (there was more) .....represents but I sure was happy to wake up and realize that it was just a dream.

That's what I get for sleeping through the televised basketball games earlier, waking when I should have been heading to bed, then enjoying some (too many) late night, chocolate mint truffles before attempting to get a couple additional hours of sleep on the couch with youtube VC (vinyl community) videos playing, before my alarm Alexa jolted me awake for the day.

Thank You

According to the statistics provided by this Blogger website, I always get three or four views of my individual notes and ramblings. I wish I knew who those three or four viewers are. I suspect one or two but don't actually know and I would like to say thank you very much for making time to read my nerdish and weirdo thoughts. It means a lot to me to be heard (read) ..... and heard consistently. 

Thank You!!!! 

Shame, Shame

Well, it seems that I'm not a real vinyl record collector after all .....

And all because I couldn't bring myself to pay pennies short of $100 for a single used record from the 90's by a favorite band and a recording that I already have on compact disc. (Because that was the format of choice being printed in the 90's. We all thought vinyl was dead back then. That's one memory that's still intact.)

Shame on me!!

But for that kind of money, it has to be pretty damn special in my heart and eyes. Short of those emotions, I expect a three- or four-disc package in mint condition, and another bonus or two. Maybe a bonus cd with demos, a sheet with handwritten liner and/or song notes, and a booklet with photos and special artwork. I've always been a sucker for a bonus.

I've never been one of those collectors gathering records with hefty price tags just so I can say: "Look at me and what I found!!!" I'd much rather say that because I want to share with someone, music that I love.

I told the store owner that "I'd have to think about it." But that was my way of getting out the door and saving face after putting back the record the owner had located in the bins for me. By that point, I'd already given it all the thought and consideration that I was willing to.

Maybe if I wasn't so concerned about money and my retirement years? Naw, I just don't want to spend that much on a single record. Even if it was a desert island disc choice ..... which it isn't. 

And maybe I'll listen to it on compact disc this weekend.

Now, in efforts to feel like a collector again, I think I'll go and rearrange and check the alphabetizing on the shelves where I keep my acceptable priced records.

Taking Notes

I had a question the other day over some incomplete paperwork that a co-worker handed to me.

I debated over whether I should chase him down (since he was about to go home for the day) or wait until morning because surely, I won't forget the reason for my confusion. I won't forget THAT issue. No way!!

I decided to wait and let the co-worker depart in peace.

Morning arrived and for the life of me, I couldn't recall the question from sixteen hours earlier .... even studying the paperwork, not even a vague clue. I couldn't see what it was that I was unsure about.

Yes, the same damn paperwork where I didn't bother to make a note because most assuredly, I WOULD'NT FORGET. 

March Madness

For several years, once there was no possibility of Oregon State or Oregon, my choice for favorite team in the NCAA March Madness tournament has been 'The Zags' ..... Gonzaga. There was a time when they were true underdogs and making runs in the tournament with primarily Northwest and west coast kids starting with the Dan Dickau, Richie Frahm, Casey Calvary. Matt Santangelo and then into the Adam Morrison, Blake Steppe, Rony Turiaf years. But with decent and consistent success came more highly rated recruits. Eventually they joined the ranks of the big profile schools that are expected to compete for the championship every year. Now, that in my eyes they've lost their underdog status, I see the team and fanbase mostly as annoying. 

It's difficult to be in the big dance for more than a year or two while holding on to your loveable underdog status.

I also include, Duke, North Carolina, Kansas, Kentucky and a few others in the snobbish and annoying group of teams. 

I love watching a little known 14-seed knock down a big name 3-seed. And the possibilities of such are greater than ever with how the game has changed the last few years. Big name teams dominated by rosters full of teenagers, smaller teams more likely to have the four and five year juniors and seniors and one or two players getting hot from the 3-point line.

How You Doin'?

One question that I don't like to answer these days is, "How are you doing?"  I've never been one to offer up much at that point. Probably because I'm never sure how I'm actually doing. I tend to assume that bad news is always lurking nearby. In response, I'll rarely say: "Great!!"  Nor will I respond with "Terrible." I'll generally reply with: "Doing ok," and let you decide what that means. 

If you want me to open up and share a bit more, ask if I've picked up any vinyl albums lately or if I've been out taking photos. You might never hear the end of it. 

Into the Future

I worry about what my quality of life will be like five years from now. And like with most things in this world that I worry about, my go-to response these days, 3/4ths joking but 1/4th serious is: "Maybe I'll pass away before then." 

I damn near blurted those words out once .... to a car dealership deal closer guy who wouldn't stop with every angle and approach that he could come up with as to why I needed to purchase an extended warranty. It went through my head at the time, while I was seated at his desk, to just say: "Why do I need an extended warranty when there's a good chance I won't outlive the standard warranty?" 

It seemed to be the only possible response that might shut him down. 

Missing and Trending Towards Lost

I think the single most difficult thing to keep track of issss ....... the stylus. 

I've purchased several over the past five years, several defined as in the 5-10 range .... and I have one in my possession. And I bought that one yesterday. I've barely had time to lose that one. I've begun to think that they have tiny little legs and that they walk away to freedom while I'm sleeping or working. 

And I've looked everywhere .... two or three times, with the exception of under the driver's seat of my car which is generally where my wallet, keys, phone and/or important pieces of mail can be found when they come up missing. 

They ought to have beeping capabilities and be able to be synched up to my Alexa, so I could just say: "Alexa, where's my stylus, no not that one, the blue one"

I think I may have found a solution though. I've purchased a little two-inch deep cube to place the stylus in and with my nagging commitment to decorative order and excellence, I'll surely be returning any, after use and post haste, to the proper spot.

Getting Hip

I'll preface this by saying, keep in mind that I'm growing old and not totally hip and up-to-date to the ways of the world.

I was totally geeked out and wildly excited earlier to discover that I could plug the flash drive into the USB port on my stereo receiver and play the music that I had saved there. I had no idea and the discovery had me imagining possibilities.

And it sounded great!! I was thinking that if it worked, I'd get that early era, tinny compact disc sound. But again, wildly excited at the results!!

This must be the same reaction felt when I discovered the magic of recording radio programs to cassette tapes 50-something years ago.

And I bet it will play in my car too!! 

What will ....  they think of next? 😲 

To Comma or Not to Comma

I struggle with commas. Yes the barely noticeable little comma.

I'll compose a sentence in an email, letter or blog post and insert a comma where it seems to be called for. Then read the sentence a day later and wonder what the hell I was thinking .... that the comma obviously ruins the flow of language and meaning of the sentence.

How can that tiny mark of punctuation one day seem so needed for proper understanding and so unnecessary and plain wrong the next? 

There ought to be an upper division college course that focuses on the use of commas. 

Time

I want to make some soup from scratch. I need to take a shower. I want to read my book about Lou Reed. I really need to do some laundry. I have a couple vinyl finds that I want to give a spin. I feel a call to blog .....

There isn't enough time!! 

So, I'll likely settle for a hamburger, a western movie and the warmth of a fake fireplace.

That certainly beats watching enraged chimpanzee videos like I was doing earlier. 

So It Ends

Out for a Saturday afternoon drive around town, to and between the park, an art gallery, the record store and a favorite bakery, Oregon State basketball game on the radio ..... and as the radio announcer said, the final Pac-12 game in Gill Coliseum, a place with a long history and where I've attended many games over the years as a student and allum ..... and suddenly the memories came flashing back .....

..... and the one that stands out above all others was a game in the mid-1970's against the Washington Huskies. The old building was absolutely howling with intensity that evening. A vibe and atmosphere that I've never forgotten or felt since.

I would love to know what the players on the court, felt that evening. I would love to know what others watching the game felt that evening. I can remember exactly where I was sitting. If I were to walk into Gill at this moment, I could point to within five feet, the seat I was in. 

And to be clear, it's not the end of the coliseum. It's the conference that is folding and most likely the end of a century (in some cases) of great yearly rivalries with teams joining different conferences next season.

Go Beavs!! 

The Realization

That moment when you're sitting in your darkened music room at 3:00am, listening to the jazz radio station, enjoying the evening before a rare Saturday off from work though mildly irritated by forcibly springing forward and losing an hour this weekend, and then have the sudden realization wash over you that .....

..... Heyyyyy!! Didn't I used to have a framed and autographed David Lindley photograph on that wall below the framed Radiohead print?

Or did I just imagine that? 

A quick search and sure enough, there it was, on its side on the floor, in the corner I never look in, partially obscured by a folding closet door, apparently taken down .... or more likely knocked down, by these guys replacing the siding on my townhouse, and boarding over my window with an ugly eyesore combination of plywood and two-by-fours which supposedly eventually is to be replaced with a new window (but hasn't happened yet) and which at the time they needed inside access to do.

On the plus side of things, they are just about done with the new paint job outside, and I can have my driveway back and I also like how the dark gray looks. I'm almost feeling like being social and inviting someone over.

Attempts

..... And I've never claimed that my words are actual poetry. I'm not that arrogant to think I am capable of such beauty and brilliance. But I've always been consistent in calling them "attempts at poetry."

And it bothers me that I think they all 'sound' the same, or coming from the same place, because I would like to sound more varied in my approach.

..... or that I am concerned about more than one issue.

Or how the first sentence in this post, is connected to the last sentence? Towards my actual thought process, it is. 

Even here, where in this little 'prose' corner, my wording is more straight forward ..... I'm always questioning my actual intent against how I feel it appears to any readers. There must be a name for that type of personality disorder. 👴

Awww hell, why am I even going on and on like this? It's well past my ritualistic bedtime. 

The dawning of the evening. Always my favorite part of the day. The beginning of the transition from light to darkness. A great deal of reflection happens in those moments. 

The Power of a Failed Marriage

Sometimes when the hour is late, the lights are dimmed and the music is playing, I can arrive at the conclusion that every attempt I've ever made at writing poetry can all be traced back to, or a connection found, (however remote), to having its origin at the same singular place or event in my world.

March Brings Snow

You never know what's going on in the minds of others .....

I was walking across the open lot between two buildings at work. Snow was falling. Three people standing on the truck loading dock of the building I was approaching and watching my navigation through the snow, avoiding the water filled potholes along the way, had the idea that I should stop in my tracks, stand in place with arms outstretched, and let the snow fall over me until I transitioned into a snowman. 

Each claimed it was the idea of one of the others. 

Fortunately, the March 'blizzard' lasted less than ten minutes. 

Photo taken in November, 2021. Autumn proceedings and rituals. Filling up the sky. And myself in awe, I'll always stop and watch. And wish it never had to end.