Dream of: 23 December 1995 "Train Ride"

My father had a factory in a large warehouse-like building where perhaps 50 people, sitting at desks and operating intricate machinery, were working. My father had long wanted me to become interested in the factory and someday take it over, but I had always declined. Growing older, and having no one to succeed him in the factory, my father was thinking of shutting the factory down.

I had come to the factory to look it over. As I looked around, it suddenly occurred to me that indeed I would like to take over the factory, and I hoped it wasn't too late do so. I could see where many improvements could be made. For instance, right now the workers weren't producing anything because they were presently engaged in what seemed to me to be unnecessary work. They were working on repairing some pieces of material which had been accidentally broken. I knew the workers were paid $6 an hour. I also knew that the pieces of material which were being repaired were worth $2 apiece, and that each worker could repair three in an hour. That obviously meant that it was costing as much to pay the workers to repair the pieces of material as the pieces of material were worth. And all during that time nothing was being produced in the factory. Here was an obvious example of inefficiency which I would remedy if I were running the factory.

During the course of walking around the factory, I had picked up some papers to look at and had sat down. I was startled when the room I was in suddenly began to move, and looking up, I saw that I was sitting on a train car quickly picking up speed. I thought the train must pull right into the factory and I had unwittingly stepped aboard. The train was already going too fast to jump off; I looked around to see if anyone could tell me when I could get off.

Several other people were in the car, which looked as if it were something out of the 1800s. When a conductor walked up, I quickly told him I didn't have a ticket and asked him where the next stop was where I could get off. He gave me a dismayed glance, as if he thought I had purposely boarded the train without a ticket. But a woman dressed in a suit stood up in my defense. She was probably in her early 30s, slender and attractive. However, even though she was defending me, she obviously didn't like me. I quickly understood why. She and several other people in the car were prosecuting attorneys. Apparently she recognized me as a defense attorney who had tried cases against her. I didn't remember her, but was glad she was helping me. Basically she told the conductor who I was and that I should be allowed to de-board without hassle at the next stop. When the conductor seemed satisfied, I asked him the name of the next stop and he said it was "Maine." I asked if Maine was the county seat and he said it was.

My principal concern was that I was wasting time. I needed to get back to the factory and talk to my father about my taking it over. But there seemed little I could do at this point, and I resigned myself to the train ride.

I didn't feel completely comfortable in the car where I was. I was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans while the others were dressed in suits. I could tell they didn't mind the way I was dressed, because they thought my garb was acceptable for a defense attorney, and they accepted me as one of them. However, I didn't accept them simply because as a rule I didn't like prosecuting attorneys and scorned their company. So I stood up and walked out of the car, heading to a car in the rear.

After passing through an intervening car I reached the last car on the train. Wooden benches with people sitting on them lined both sides of the car. Seeing an empty spot I sat down. Even though the surrounding people seemed much more common that the prosecutors in the other car, I felt much more at ease here ; I would stay in this car through the rest of my journey.

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