Tuesday, June 5, 2012


I sometimes have the strangest dreams, often in color (which some say is impossible), and I often remember at least portions of these nocturnal visits. Last night I appear to have been some sort of mafia hitman, or maybe just a member (I don't remember which), who is supposed to meet someone at a small hotel bar. I was given instructions, "you know the one, the yellow one, in the middle of the block", but I spent almost all of my time weaving in and out of 1950s-era bars (although they could have been twenties speakeasies as well) and streets on a rainy night with neon lights reflecting from puddles. I know I was wearing a dapper tan suit and hat, and I didn't feel as if I shouldn't be in some of these nice places. Oddly, I don't remember flirting with any women, no naughty hatchecks or cigarette ladies, and there were no macho events, no shootouts or such. I don't recall even packing heat. Just wandering around in this city looking for the meeting place. It could even have been some time after WWII, cause I seem to remember uniforms, and in one drinking establishment I recognized some minor actors sitting along a lengthy bar, smoking, the cigarettes in holders with smoke trails curling up, but the men got up and stepped to the side of the room when I walked in. Not intimidated, as such, but they clearly knew me or who I was, were wary of me, and their reaction indicates I was someone either to be feared or respected, but they didn't go running off, so I wasn't that much of a threat. Hey, perhaps I was a detective, though if so I should have been carrying a guna nd been more aggressive, wouldn't ya think? I didn't drink or smoke (which I don't do in real life, with the exception of an occasional drink). And I never really became anxious that I couldn't find the appointed bar, just bemused that I couldn't remember its location, though toward the end, just before I woke up, I saw a smaller yellow hotel and was walking toward it. Interpret that, Freud!

1 comment:

  1. My father, a PhD psychologist, once told me that most dreams are anxiety dreams, and most of the rest contain wish fulfillment. So, since no bad guys were chasing you, maybe it was wish fulfillment - the desire for a dashing profession, a little excitement without danger, and living in a slower time when there might be more time to search for something - not because you're lost or missing something, but just because you're interested in discovering more. Our time in life seems to be one for self-reflection, don't you think? Maybe that's why you saw reflections in the puddles. Or maybe you're just having us on?

    I've had many mafia-type dreams. The James Cagney-style scenarios are my favorite... although in my case someone is usually chasing me and trying to stab or shoot me. Guess mine aren't wish fulfillment. :)