DAD AND JOHN LITHGOW

Funny when dreams take family members and put them into the life they have nothing to do with and what the dreamer is all about. I love movies and interview actors and actresses and write reviews and my father likes movies okay but is, or was, in the golf industry. So in this dream my mom has the television on and it's my dad in a movie with John Lithgow. They're both in a car and my dad is passenger. They're partners, somehow, maybe salesman, mobsters, or both. Lithgow is doing a lot of the dialog but my father has a line or two and delivers them nicely. He's young and handsome, and seems right for the big (or in this case, small) screen. And of course I'm shocked by all this. My mom quips, "He hates this one," meaning the movie. My dad's there, embarrassed and not commenting. I ask how on Earth this happened, but get no answer. And the dream ends as I'm trying to record the dream to share to my "friends" on Facebook, but something's going wrong... It won't record... Then I go back, rewinding the tape to find dad's part, and can't find the scene...

IMPENDING JAIL DREAM

God awful dream last night. I was waiting to go to jail. An impending five month sentence to be ruled the next morning. I'm stressing about it, complaining to my parents, trying to find a way out. Suddenly it's nighttime and I realize I can't call my lawyer. Maybe, I thought, he could try some sort of last minute plea. I'm really scared during this dream. In real life I'm claustrophobic so I can't, within the dream, imagine how I'll survive a five month sentence. I'm not afraid of those cliche things like getting raped or beat up or any of that jazz. Just the fact of being locked up for five months is what's killing me. And all the things I'm used to, my routine... going to the bathroom, putting on my clothes, watching TV, walking my dog... will be gone. So I'm really stressed and complaining and my mom, at one point, says, "Just serve your sentence and stop complaining." The bitch. And my father is laughing out loud, because he'd told me I should have paid for a better lawyer, which he'd supposedly suggested. And by the end of the dream, it's morning... I'm about to find out my sentence (I have a ray of hope that the judge will let me off, although the information within the dream is that we'd made this deal long before)... And then the "show" ends. That's right, it was all part of some sort of TV show and the ambiguous ending was a realization that I probably went to jail. But I'm awake now and feeling under the weather but at least I'm free. Although when you're sick in this kind of hot weather, it feels like a prison sentence. Perhaps that explains the dream or the reason for its impetus. 

CRAIG T. NELSON WANTS ME DEAD DREAM

This one's weird. I'm walking outside of where an outdoor concert's being held beyond a fence. This is off a city street or boulevard and rushing cars make it dangerous so as I'm walking along with a friend I tell one girl who's standing on the curb, "Why not just walk up to the fence to see the concert." Suddenly a scolding deep voice from behind goes, "And then I lose money because of it." Turns out to be someone who's in charge of (or works for the person in charge of) the concert itself, and this girl standing by the fence is somehow liken to illegally entering the concert grounds, and it's my fault for giving her permission. And that man behind me is actor Craig T. Nelson (with a persona more STIR CRAZY than POLTERGEIST). He's pissed but seems more like a persistant mind-gaming bully. I feel ashamed and say (lying), "Oh God, I'm in trouble with my favorite actor" without looking back. Which doesn't work. We all go up to an office or apartment and Nelson keeps fucking with me, verbally not physically, and making my life (within that contained moment or moments of the dream) a living hell. I tell my friend I'm going to call whoever really runs the concert to complain about this treatment. Before that I guess I'd done some strange things in the apartment. I barked like a dog and did some standup comedy routine jokes, and Nelson says I basically lost legitimacy because of those antics. "Who'd want to listen to you now?" But I stick to my guns (or gun... with no bullets) and walk down the stairs and go outside and Nelson is following me, I think.

STRANDED DREAM

Another one of those stranded dreams. Have them a lot. Usually I'm overseas and realize I have to fly (hate to fly in real life) and am stuck somewhere. But this was some kind of camp and we were in some rural place and I wanted to go home, went out to get my car and a bunch of killer bugs or wasps came out and killed director John Huston. I had just the other night watched TENTACLES so perhaps that was the connection. I wanted to go home and it was daylight and I kept asking for directions but the road from the camp was difficult to see the night before when  someone gave the directions and that was right before John Huston was killed so the next day, under the sun, I felt I had to leave and that it would be safer in daylight but the dream ended before I got directions and again, I was stranded.

RIVER WATER DREAM

A strange dream that was also a good dream. There was an outdoor area liken to a mountain resort. Beneath the mountains where the people camp and buy things. A building low to the ground where inside people are doing meditation and yoga. My friend, actress Sally Kirkland, who I haven't spoken with for a little while, is in the class. She crawls over and tells me she's invited Andrew Dice Clay to be a meditation partner. I'm looking around the people squatting and humming and moaning and looking for Dice, but can't find him. Sally says he's a real kick in the pants and recites a joke he'd told her. God if I could only remember that joke. Dialog in a dream's the first thing forgotten.

I then go around the building where there's a big river and waves crashing like rapids and people are enjoying themselves, and I'm in there too with all these locals to whom this place is home, and I say (paraphrasing), "I can't believe this place." I guess my wry tone evoked something and they say, "What do you mean?" And as I look at the clear blue (very blue) water I tell them, "You must understand, I'm used to Orange County Suburbia where I sit inside my house watching TV all day." They smile as the water bandies back and forth and we're having so much fun. It's like Heaven. 

But really it's a camp and I have a "sudden realization" that tomorrow we're (I'm part of a church group and Larry, the leader, is a nice guy but strict and anal) going hiking up the mountains. But I tell myself, "No way, I'm staying here and having fun in this river with these friendly people... Forget about hiking and camping and wiping my ass with rocks."