I had another strange dream last night, the kind that comes from a crazy place and haunts me long after it has been splattered across my brain with the hammer of consciousness.Moe Howard (That was his stooge name, his real name was Moses Horowitz), sat slouched in a big leather chair in front of me. He was talking at a very fast pace, and using his hands for effect, coaching me in great detail on how to properly prepare lettuce for feeding to a guinea pig. He glanced at me occasionally and paused, but wouldn't really look me in the eye. I got the feeling he was nervous.
Out of the blue, I asked him about his death in the 70's and he just brushed my question off, a little irritated that I didn't want to know all about the best way to tear lettuce so that it doesn't turn bitter.
He was in full color. He had clear blue eyes. I asked him if color felt any differently than black & white to be living in. He looked at me like I was the stooge.
He started talking about the different types of lettuce and which ones pleased the guinea pigs most, based on cost, vitamins, and water content.
I wondered why a guinea pig would care about the cost of lettuce.
Eventually I steered the conversation back to the dead-thing, because I was pretty sure I had read that he died sometime in the mid 1970's.
He just looked at me and said "Oh shit. Fine", and disappeared.
3 comments:
You dream like I do. Colorful, strange, but very real. The most important thing is the remembering. What good is a bizarre lifelike dream if you can't remember it the next day. My co-workers are used to hearing the kooky stuff from my head the night before.
Nuttin' better'n a dream like that. I hope you blog every one of them.
And they are certainly better than "The King of Queens" reruns.
I have to write down my dreams as gone by tooth brushing time. When Moe said "Fine" was he referring to Larry?
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