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In another thread is related a dream. I have decided to mention something of mine. Nowadays I seldom recall having dreamt at all. Those I do recall tend to fade into oblivion after waking. Almost the totality of those few that stick in my mind any length of time are bland past the point of boredom.

It was once otherwise. In younger days I had many fascinating dreams of various kinds. Sadly, age has taken its toll on my remembrance of most of them. A few, some quite ancient, remain firmly in mind. Parts of them at any rate.

I recall, for instance, what I believe to be my first dream in color. It began in glorious black and white with me walking down a sidewalk of my little town’s main street. Somewhere between the town’s one major (?) intersection and our drainage ditch, across the road from the IGA, the dream went color. I crossed the ditch (via bridge) and, passing in front of the funeral home, either woke or simply forgot the rest of the dream. Not much of a dream I know. But hey, it’s a early one. Very early. I’m not sure how old I was at the time, but suspect it a pre-school dream, which places it a good sixty years ago as the crow flies.

I recall another early dream in which I was Bugs Bunny being chased around the interior of my favorite of our town’s two movie theaters by a huge-mouthed cartoonish robot who was trying to bite my head off.

I recall a dream of some years later but still relatively early. I was riding in a car with my parents. We were crossing a wide river via arched bridge. At roughly mid point the bridge collapsed, sending us plummeting into the depths. I recall nothing of the fall itself. I do recall kneeling in the river, which proved no more than about two feet deep, near the wreckage of our car cradling the dead body of my father in my arms. (For good or ill their eventual actual demises, one of which was unexpected are rather traumatic, triggered no dreams whatsoever.)

I recall a much much later dream, possibly my last dream worthy of remembrance, in which . . . no, that can wait.

I love dreams so scary you wake up petrified, afraid to either open your eyes or fall back asleep. I suppose that's why I almost never have them. In fact I can't recall experiencing one in a good many years.

For too many years being circa 1992, mine tended to focus on my final days in the military, my actual retirement day, or a day or two immediately afterward. What happened was that (in the dream) I realize I am about to retire (or have recently retired) but have not yet begun any sort of out-processing or packing, nor made arrangements for my future. The dreams basically consist of me thinking, "Oh no! What am I gonna do?!?!" with a little panic thrown in.

I hate those! Thankfully, they ceased long ago. Sadly, they were replaced by dreams in which I am working at my post-military retail sales job and can’t remember how to do it. The irony is that those dreams vanished near the end of my sales career -- such as it was -- at a time when I began experiencing actual job performance issues and knew I’d soon be forced to throw in the towel for my own good as much as the company’s.

But what I wanna relate in detail is my best remembered dream. Not necessarily a favorite mind you, just one that has never left my mind. As best I recall, it occurred during my final years in the military, sometime between 1988 and 1992, certainly no earlier than 1985.

Specifics of the early portions of this dream are lost but consisted, as did many back then, of my squadron on assignment, traveling by bus. At some point the bus parked. We disembarked. For whatever reason I entered a very large maze-like building and explored its many dimly lit corridors.

This went on some time. No one was seen, nor any sound heard. I eventually entered a large, standard 8' ceilinged room. Weak overhead florescent fixtures provided what little lighting was available. Walls, from what could be discerned in the dimness, were white or off-white, as was the linoleum-tiled floor. The room was barren save one small utility desk with a chair at its side.

At this point my dream-self knew I wasn't feeling well and that this was some sort of medical facility I'd come to for treatment. I sat in the chair. A medical assistant in white coat entered. He asked me to tilt my head toward the ceiling. I did so. He dipped two cotton swabs in what my dream-self knew to be ether and shoved one up each of my nostrils. He instructed me not to move and left the room.

The next ten or more dream-minutes were spent alone in the large dimly lit room with my head tilted toward the ceiling and those swabs up my nose. The smell was overbearing. Absolutely nothing else occurred.

I eventually heard the door open, glanced toward it with my eyes (keeping my head tilted up), and saw the assistant stick his head in the room. He then said, and this is an exact quote, "Would you hurry up?!?!?", closed the door, and was never seen again.

I spent another ten or so dream-minutes by myself in the large dimly lit room with my head tilted toward the ceiling and those ether-soaked swabs up my nose. Absolutely nothing else occurred.

I woke up.

Wait, you dream in black and white? I don't remember ever having a dream that wasn't in full technicolor, lol.

I have dreams that feel like I've dreamt of them before. The sense of remembrance and clarity is such that when I wake up, I wake up with two minds; one, that I've dreamed a previous dream and two, that I've had a new dream.

It's ... Confusing.

Only very early on. I suspect it has something to do with the era in which I was born. I am amongst the first TV generation. I can't recall us not having one, though if so it can't have been purchased long before my birth. I still recall what must have been the family's first set, a tall and narrow affair with a greenish tube more rounded (or more roundly framed) than later models would be. My mind sees it looking somewhat akin to this, though not in detail. But I stray.

The point is, televisions capable of color, and color broadcasts, were years in the future. Additionally, mom took me to the local cinema for daytime showings many a time during my early years. Much of what we saw at the theater was low budget "B" films, almost none in color. I believe this had a profound effect on my early dreams.

I can no longer incontestably substantiate the belief that for a time my dreams lacked color. Too much as been lost. But . . . I 'can' still recall a time, a time when my mind wasn't the cesspit in is now, when I believed it without question. I have to go with that.


This does not sound unusual to me. I myself experienced many such dreams earlier in life. Rather than being confused I sometimes found it eerie. I'd wake thinking, "Whoa . . . I returned to such and such again!" In my case such dreams weren't simple repeats but rather sat in the same settings with the same general plot lines and possible individual character overlaps. I could at one time relate the overall gist of several of these 'theme' dreams. Alas, they are yet another casualty to the ravages of time. I recall having them, but nothing more.

I should stress that this sort of dream has nothing whatsoever to do with repeated dreams such as those mentioned in my initial dream post concerning unpreparedness for military retirement. No. These theme dreams had a totally different feel.

This post has been edited by Decrepit: Mar 28 2016, 01:38 PM

Oh, man. I would so like to get a Mossberg 590 A1

Growing up I had one dream that repeated a few times; but sometimes it would end differently - like I remembered what was going to happen and avoided doing something I'd done in the previous dream (hoping for a better outcome). It wasn't a pleasant dream, either. (obviously, lol) .






Wow! That is fancy! (but what a small screen! )

Wacko indeed at that price, unless you left out a dot. Surely a Moss Burger with A1 goes for $5.90, not $590. Not sure why your want such a sandwich in the first place, but to each his or her own.

This post has been edited by Decrepit: Mar 28 2016, 06:53 PM

Not quite sure we´re talking about the same thing

A burger made of moss? This be crazy

Did I say Mossburger? No, I said Mossberg

This post has been edited by mirocu: Mar 28 2016, 07:26 PM

Which merely guarantees its existence, somewhere

Now I want a burger too

While looking for something worth watching at YouTube I noticed a link to a video titled Why Gift Cards Are A Scam. I give few gifts any more, basically to my bro at Xmas and his birthday. They are almost always gift cards, which I think better than individual items the receiver may not need or want. But darn if the video isn't spot on. It might have converted me. Be advised, like so many YouTube videos nowadays there is a bit of casual cussing.

That was awesome


But I don´t about "casual" cussing...

How are we, everyone?

Heyyyooooooooooooo!!


We are fine

Heisenberg?










OMG, that is a hilarious vid !!!!