Dream of: 07 March 1996 "Beanie"

It was early morning and I was sitting in a typical school classroom. Although about 30 student desks were in the room, only three or four other students were seated at desks around the room.

The class was normally full of students, but most students had taken the day off for some reason. I wished I also hadn't come to school that day because I was extremely tired. I thought I had been awake almost all night the previous night, and I tried to remember what I had been doing. As I began to recall the events of the previous evening, I realized I actually had slept for six or seven hours, which should have been sufficient.

As an extremely vivid memory of the previous night began coming back to me, I turned to one of the other students sitting near me and began recounting what had happened to me. I first explained that I lived in a hilly wooded area of the town and I told the person where my home was. I knew I had a very nice home, and I wondered if the person would recognize that I was talking about a section of town where the better homes were. Of course there were still a few older homes which weren't in very good condition in my area of town, so the person couldn't really tell what kind of home I lived in just by my mentioning the area of town where I lived.

I continued to explain that I had gone out walking late at night, after midnight sometime before 1 a.m., through the forested area near my home. I explained how I had suddenly heard something running through the woods and how a large dog had run up and jumped on me. I abruptly stopped my story in the middle because I realized I had made a mistake. I backed up and told the person that it hadn't been a dog which had jumped on me, but a deer. I told how the deer, obviously exhausted and hardly able to continue on, had put its front legs up on my chest, raising itself up so its head was right in front of me looking at me.

I had immediately understood the deer's actions: being chased by a large dog, the deer was hoping I would help it. But instead of helping the deer, I grabbed one of its legs in each hand and pushed the deer from me. Although my action was swift and merciless, my reasons were a bit more muddled. I somewhat felt that I simply didn't want to get involved in the drama playing itself out, that nature should just take its course. And I somewhat felt that I just didn't care what happened to the deer, that it wasn't my problem.

The deer staggered from me, obviously so tired it could hardly continue. Just then the large dog raced up, and without hesitation pounced on the helpless deer. I was unmoved as the dog furiously began ripping the deer apart right before my eyes. The ferocious attack was soon over, as the dog continued with its repast.

I thought several people had been listening as I had told the story, but when I finished, no one said a word, and it seemed as if none of them had even been interested. But that didn't particularly bother me, and I again began looking around the room.

Something was written in white chalk on a blackboard standing in front of the room. I hadn't noticed the blackboard before, and I wondered how long it had been there. As I began reading the writing, I realized it described an offer for people to sell magazines. I thought to myself that no one would surely be interested in doing that. But as I read on, I saw that the person who sold the most magazines would win a brand new car, a Pontiac. That sounded much more interesting – a brand new car. I might even try it myself. I wondered if the contest were local or nationwide. Would I only be competing against people in the immediate area, or people from all across the country?

As I continued reading, I realized the contest wasn't for selling magazines, but cans of fruit drinks. Pictures of the cans were on the blackboard, underneath the writing, with the writing continuing right across the pictures of the cans. The cans were green like cans of 7-Up. Pictures of two cans were on one side of the blackboard and pictures of two other cans were on the other side. The writing described how healthy the fruit drink was and how it contained only natural ingredients.

I thought I should be able to sell such a thing. But who would I sell it to? I thought I could go to everyone I knew. If I were going to win a car, I could even offer a substantial discount, maybe even sell the cans for half price. Of course that might be dangerous. What if I sold the cans for half price and then I lost the contest? Then I would have to make up the money out of my own pocket. That didn't sound like a good idea.

I looked at the people in the room, wondering who would buy the drinks from me. Sitting up in front of me to my right was an attractive, red haired woman (probably in her mid 20s). She resembled the actress Molly Ringwald. As I scrutinized her, I realized she wasn't the kind of person with whom I would probably have any success. She was one of these intense types who was very difficult to get along with. She reminded me a lot of a certain kind of female lawyer with whom I had often come in contact. That particular type was very pushy, always having to be right and always having to win any adversary contest. Bassel (a female Fort Worth lawyer) particularly came to mind. I also thought of the cable movie I had recently seen called The Late Shift, about the Jay Leno/David Letterman feud. In that movie the actress Kathy Bates had played the role of the high-intensity-type of shrew about which I was thinking.

Of course, I thought, I knew other female attorneys who weren't like that at all. In fact most of the female attorneys I knew were polite and professional and easy to get along with. Holladay, Daffin, and Baker all came to mind. Especially Holladay. She was always mild-tempered.


Continuing to muse, I began looking out the window. We were on about the fifth floor of the building. Outside I could see a narrow street, with tall buildings (including the one I was in) rising up on both sides. But something else caught my attention. Flying in the air between the buildings was some kind of strange contraption. It could best be described as resembling one of the old caps which used to be called beanies – the kind which had a little propeller on the top. Only this contraption was a bit larger than that. There was indeed a propeller – horizontal like a helicopter's – about a half meter in diameter. The blades of the propeller appeared to be made of an orange-yellow plastic. Underneath the propeller was a non-distinct rounded red piece of plastic, something like a cap.

The object, with its propeller spinning, rose and fell in the air in the cavern between the buildings, something like a kite or a piece of paper caught in the wind. I sat and watched for quite a while, entranced by the graceful motions of the object. Soon I felt as if I could feel the sensation of flying, as if I were flying myself. It was quite a satisfying feeling.


I was standing on the street outside the building where the object had been flying. I looked for it, but I realized someone, probably the owner, had taken it. Some people were leaning out a window on the building on the other side of the street, and I thought perhaps they had taken it.

With me was Birdie (probably in her mid 20s). She was all dressed up, and looked somewhat like a model. She was wearing an unusual yet elegant purple-blue dress. She contrasted starkly with me and the tropical shirt which I was wearing hanging out of my pants.

The only thing I didn't like about her looks was some kind of purple-blue cloth which she had wrapped around her head like a hat, covering up her long black hair. A piece of the cloth was hanging down over one eye. I told Birdie she should pull the cloth up over her eyes, but she indicated the hat was designed that way and that it was supposed to hang over her eye. I didn't like how it looked, but I didn't say anything else.

We walked a few steps toward a car which I had parked on the street. It was a vintage car in excellent condition probably from the 1950s, probably a Chevy. When we reached the car and I opened the passenger door for Birdie to board, I recalled that I thought I had left some kind of girlie magazine lying on the back floorboard on the passenger side, but when I looked in the back, I didn't see the magazine. I wondered if Birdie had found it and thrown it away.

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