Dream of: 07 April 2012 "The Three Stooges"

 

I had acquired a one-story cottage in a sparsely settled rural area. The house - painted a pale pastel green - was not particularly enticing, but seemed as if it would be adequate for me. The house appeared to have been empty for a long time and was still filled with possessions (which now belonged to me) of the prior occupant.

I was a bit unhappy with some neighboring dilapidated buildings and I walked across the street to a falling-down shack on the other side to take a look at it. As I stood on the front porch and looked inside through the open front door, I was surprised to see a person lying under a blanket on the floor of the filthy wrecked and cluttered room. I starred at the person - who appeared to be a grimy short-haired girl in her late teens - and I began to think that she might be dead. She didn't seem to be breathing.

Suddenly, however, the girl awoke. She appeared to be a vagrant and I didn't like the idea of her being there right across the street from me. I stepped inside for a better look and the girl stood up. Abruptly a second girl about the same age showed up on the front porch. Both of them were filthy. As I started talking to them, I wondered if the girls might look half-way decent under all that filth. Maybe even something attractive. But they didn't appeal to me. I just wanted to eject them from the place.

Suddenly two husky fellows (probably in their early 20s) showed up. When I realized the fellows were friends of the girls, I decided I should leave. I headed for the door and walked back outside. When one of the fellows followed me outside, I thought he might try to threaten me, but he didn't do anything. He did, however, tag along as I headed back across the street to my house and he started asking me questions about who I was. I didn't want anyone to know anything about me yet because I still needed to secure my house. Unfortunately, however, the fellow saw my car in the driveway and he asked me if the car belonged to me. I felt trapped and I admitted to him that the car was mine and that I was going to be living in the house. I hadn't wanted anyone to know yet that I was living there, but now the cat was out of the bag.

As I stepped to the side of my house, I was shocked by what I saw. Less than an hour ago the lot next to my house had contained an old abandoned building which stood in front of a vast junkyard filled with hundreds of junk cars which had stretched far into the distance behind my house. Now, the building was gone, as well as all the cars. The land had been bulldozed and when I saw vague traces of the cars sticking up here and there in the pale-brown dirt, I quickly surmised that all the cars had been buried in the vast lot of land. Astounded, I babbled to the fellow (who was still following me) that the cars might have been worth millions of dollars. I figured some government agency had been responsible for cleaning up the junkyard, but I was amazed that the junk cars would have simply been buried. Nevertheless, I was happy to see that the building had been torn down and that the junk cars were gone. The place looked so much better.

When I turned to my house and stepped onto the porch, I realized that several people were going in and out of the house. I walked inside, intending to force these intruders from my house. All the people were apparently from the neighborhood. I spotted one girl (who looked clean but might have been one of the girls I had seen across the street) who quickly dashed outside with something in her hand. I knew she had stolen something and I told some other people that the girl had something in her hand. I followed her, but she managed to elude me. I didn't know what the girl had taken, but I knew that everything in the house now belonged to me, even though I still didn't know what all was in the house.

I returned inside, still intending to throw everyone out. But in the kitchen I encountered two older women (probably about 60 years old) dressed in long old-fashioned dresses. They seemed harmless enough and I decided to let them stay so I could talk with them. I didn't think that they would steal anything.

As I talked with the two women, other people arrived and I couldn't seem to control the situation. We all gravitated to a neighboring room where folding chairs had been set up pointing in one direction. Perhaps twenty people were sitting in the chairs. There were two televisions playing in the room. One television was tiny, perhaps fifteen centimeters across. I stared at it, amazed that it was working. It was obviously an antique.

I knew the people were wondering who I was, where I had come from and what I was doing there. So I decided to introduce myself and tell everyone who I was. I announced to the entire room that I was a writer. To bolster my credibility, I told them that I was a lawyer, but that I had stopped practicing law so I could concentrate on writing. I even pointed out that my old black-haired law school classmate, Brenda, was in the room. Brenda - who was sitting right in front of me - didn't say anything. She looked about 30 years old and was as attractive as ever. (In my mind I was somewhat confusing Brenda with a black-haired girl named Kathy Gaca, whom I met one night in Mexico City decades ago).

I then began trying to explain that I wrote my dreams and that I was trying to fashion my dreams into a book by linking together dreams that contained the same element so that the dreams flowed into each other. I tried to explain how extremely difficult the task was and how I wasn't even certain that it could be accomplished. Nevertheless, I was trying to do it. No one seemed much interested in what I had to say and I seemed to sense that they thought the idea might be unworkable. I was a little surprised that no one seemed to care.

Then I noticed an old two-reel movie projector at the other end of the room. I thought about turning it on, but before I could do so, someone else flipped it on. The people's attention seemed focused on a television sitting at the end of the long room and I realized that the show playing on the television was originating from the movie projector. Since there was a clothes rack blocking the middle of the room, at first I was unsure how the image traveled from the projector to the television. I thought perhaps a cable ran from the projector to the television, but then I noticed a little mirror-device sitting on top of the clothes rack. Obviously the image was shot from the projector to the device and then to the television.

An episode of The Three Stooges was playing on the television.

I finally sat down on a couch close to the television. A luscious attractive thin dark-haired girl was sitting on my right (only about 20 years old). I thought she was beautiful. I told her I wished I could find someone like her. I was surprised when she instantly responded to my overture and seemed willing to take up with me. She said, however, that she had some conditions. She indicated that if we were going to have a relationship, we would begin immediately and that we would be exclusive with each other. She also wanted me to inform everyone about our relationship. When she asked me if I was going to tell everyone in the room that she and I were together, I responded that I would tell them all "right now."

She wanted to know how long I thought that she and I would stay together. I thought I might jokingly say, "at least three hours." I was thinking that that would be about how long I would need to have sex with her. But I thought better of it and decided that that might not be the appropriate response. I didn't want to offend her.

Instead, I leaned over to kiss her.