Dream of: 04 June2006 "Venezuela"
I was in a outdoors restaurant/bar in Portsmouth. As I walked around the booths, I noticed Steve Adams (a Portsmouth acquaintance from the early 1970s) sitting in one booth. He was probably in his mid 50s. I walked over to him and he stood up, but he didn't recognize me. He was my height and he had short graying hair. I asked him if he knew who I was. He didn't. I told him who I was and he seemed genuinely happy to see me. We even hugged, and then he stood back and looked at me. I knew he was a karate expert. He looked at my stomach, as if he were gauging me to see if I had gained weight over the years. I figured I hadn't seen him in 20 years. I told him I had recently asked someone about him and I had been told that he had moved to Athens.
More and more people were showing up. Finally I realized we were on the rooftop of a building. I could see bulldozers below filling up a road with dirt so people could drive their cars to the rooftop. Another road on the other side of the roof led down.
I also began to realize my father owned this place. Someone said my father was going to make a killing on the place because many people were going to come there.
I walked down the stairs into the interior of the building. It seemed as if the building were part of a larger complex of buildings. I wandered until I reached a gigantic auditorium in one building. Hundreds of wooden seats were filled with people. Drinks were being served and people were drinking. I heard someone say, "Its Steve Collier."
I realized people were looking at me and identifying me with my father. I felt rather important. I wondered how my father had put this place together. The seats were made from trees. Obviously he had found someplace being torn down and he had bought all these seats. The place was pleasant. A band was playing on the stage.
I encountered my father (probably in his mid 50s, about the same age as I) and I began talking with him. I wondered where my stepmother was. I figured she was somehow involved with this place. He was very friendly. He apparently had opened several bars in the neighborhood. One was called "Venezuela." He had bought the bar just when it was about to go out of business and he had revitalized it. He had done the same with several other bars in the neighborhood. I told him if he hadn't bought the bars, the area would have gone downhill and all these buildings would now be empty. The same kind of thing had happened once before in Portsmouth in the 1960s or 1970s. He agreed. He seemed very satisfied with what he had done.
Someone walked up and said a woman was going to have her birthday tomorrow and she wanted a cake for 200 people. My father indicated he would provide such a cake.
It seemed as if he were planning to run for a political office in Portsmouth. He intended to have a platform which would call for getting rid of all the Democrats. He said he had planned to take a test tomorrow which was given to Republicans, but that he might have to cancel the test. He had cancelled once before, and now he might have to cancel again.
I left him and walked away. The place had basically emptied out -- only a few people were still left sitting. I wondered what had happened to all the people. I also wondered if my father would be able to make any money on this venture. I didn't know the answer to that question.
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