In Iran, I went to a large auditorium filled with chairs and people. Paul (the older brother of my friend Steve Weinstein) was seated not far from me and reading a book. I was flabbergasted to see him in Iran. I was unsure whether he had already seen me and simply hadn't said anything, or whether he hadn't seen me at all. I stepped up to him and said, "Paul."

He replied, "Oh yea, there you are. I've been meaning to look you up. I knew you were over here."

We sat down and began talking. I mentioned that I had been working on writing a book of dreams and that I had already typed up about 80 pages of the book. I told him that the book was rather interesting and that he might like to read it. I told him that I had written a lot more of the book which I hadn't yet typed up, and that I had much of it on tape.

I began explaining why I was in Iran and I told him I didn't know if I were going to be returning to Baylor Law School when I left Iran. I knew school was going to start again in about four weeks, and I still hadn't been accepted at the school which I was planning to attend in Ohio. So I was unsure what I was going to do. I had already once before left Baylor to go to Puerto Rico, and then had returned to Baylor. I said something like, "I just don't know if Baylor is going to keep taking me back every time I go off to different places. Traveling around sure is fun in the meantime."

I also realized that traveling around like that was costing a lot of money.

There was obviously much trouble in Iran. The people in the auditorium apparently were dissatisfied with the present regime in Iran. I didn't see any mullahs in the room. An American rock and roll band with about four members had been brought in and apparently was going to perform in the auditorium. Paul stood and said he was going to go up and talk with the people in the band. I thought about going up with him, but decided to just stay where I was and listen. I had the feeling Paul had come there to make a report on the band.

When the band began to play, I sat and listened to the lyrics, trying to understand what the song was saying. It sounded rather good. When everyone stood up and began clapping along with the music, I also stood and began clapping. I could sense a strong feeling of dissidence in the room toward the Islamic regime and I felt united with the people.

A variety of people were in the room. One old man had particularly expressive features in his face. Finally, I returned to where I had originally been sitting, where I found a card table with a jug of water and a couple glasses on it. I picked up one glass, and in the process knocked over the other glass. Water and ice spilled out onto the table and floor. One fellow was sitting at a bench on one side of the table and another fellow was sitting at a bench on the other side. One fellow got up and left, but the other remained. With a white rag I began trying to push the water and ice off the table onto the floor. The fellow who had left returned and brought me back another rag. I used it to continue trying to push the water off the table and onto the floor. It was quite a mess.

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