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Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Making public my nocturnal, heavily plot driven, insanity.
I have to live in this head:

In last night’s dream I have to get to the south side of St. Louis to help my friends Tom Selleck and Elliot Gould. I am Elliot’s agent (they are playing themselves). Elliot wants to purchase a bar there, and it is literally falling apart. The bar itself was built in Detroit by the early automotive industry as a moveable building, with all the plumbing etc in the same space as the bar. Nearly half of the floor space is covered by antiquated pipes, which make it look like an ancient laundry mat. If you jump at one end of the building the other end moves, shaking all the pipes and sending a ripple through the splintering floor (which reminds me of the basketball court flooring of a long condemned school). There is an uncapped toilet (just the post, no stool) that we would need to build an actual bathroom around. This building is prime lemon in a nowhere neighborhood (location, location, location).

In order to get to the bar fast, before they close the deal, there is a bit of an adventure. I end up stealing a car that Harvey Keitel has just stolen himself, it’s a small brown Dodge Omni. We run several errands on our way to the south side bar and in each episode he is trying to get the key back and I am promising that when we get to where we’re going he can take the key, but there is always one more stop – and when we finally first get to the bar no one is there, so more craziness ensues.

Tom Selleck’s agent finally shows up, as the enemy trying to buy the bar out from under Elliot, but I outtalk him with the owners. Once it’s clear that Elliot really wants the place, and there is this underlying competition with Tom’s agent, I do everything to get the bar for him. We end up striking a deal that involves concessions on jukebox choices and radio feed. Tom’s agent had some radio connection to influence the deal, which I was trying to undermine (the radio rep, a very cute blond woman, was actually there pushing her influence). At one point in negotiation, which is happening next to the industrial dumpster for a construction site, I make the point that no one listens to sporting events on the radio in bars anymore, they might have it on TV, but they are listening to the jukebox (I was bowling last night and was struck by the multitasking of the patrons who were involved in both their games and the ones on TV, while listening to music and carrying on unrelated conversations).

Elliot apparently grew up in this south side neighborhood and there is a touching twist scene where Tom Selleck says something like, “The bar will succeed, these are your people, you grew up here. They’ll support you and so will I.” revealing at this point that they are lovers and this is a couple’s venture.

The dream closes with black and white images of young Chinese fighting several stegosauruses. The stegosauruses are up on their hind legs, using their front legs as arms. The combat takes place in a riverbed just like the one in that classically faked picture of bigfoot. The voice over to this presumed documentary says, “Early Chinese developed Wushu (kung fu) by fighting the last of the dinosaurs. It is only with the recent spread of Wushu in the West that Chinese have begun to treat Westerners with respect.”

This may have been the start of the next dream, but the alarm went off.

Last night’s dream starred William Hurt and involved a large Earthquake hitting St. Louis. In a post apocalyptic city I end up befriending and raising a small deer (one of my totem animals by the by) to adulthood. William Hurt’s character attempts to counter the guilt of the survivors by starting a circus in what’s left of the Central West End. The main attraction at the circus is a group of very tall people (eight feet or taller) reminiscent of the Amazon’s from a dream I posted on here weeks ago. That dream closes with the image of the full grown stag, which I have raised, somehow in my fish tank sparring with my red tailed shark by crashing into him with his antlers, like you always see in nature documentaries on the rutting deer. I wake up thinking that there is some competition for influence in my astrology between the fish & the deer, between the water and the woods.

Apparently there is no shortage of imagination here. Sometimes my dreams have a great deal of personal significance, but mostly they are just funky.

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