Dreams – Do They Mean Anything?

I used to be enamored with dream psychology.  I am not sure there is any real meaning to dreams but for a time, to analyze them was tons of fun.  In about 6th or 7th grade, I had a regular reoccurring dream about marrying a boy (M) from my church who happened to live in my neighborhood.  We grew up one block and three streets apart but my friend lived just one house away from him.

I’d visit my friend¬†and spend nights there. ¬†We did so much walking back and forth during the summers. ¬†Or bike riding. ¬†We roamed the neigborhood in packs. ¬†He was¬†two or three¬†years older than us and the proverbial BAD boy. ¬†hubba. hubba.

Used to be you didn’t¬†need a license to drive a dirt bike … motorcycle yes but dirt bike no. ¬†He’d zip around the neighborhood like Kelly Leak from Bad News Bears. ¬†I remember like it was yesterday … one afternoon when he came running over to where we sat in the grass … all out of breath, told us he had to stash his bike – said he was running from Johnny Law. ¬†He asked us to tell the cops (if they showed up) that he had been with us the whole time. ¬†Heart beating out of my chest. ¬†Afterwards part of me thought he lied about the whole thing. ¬†He did have a tendency to exaggerate. ¬†He was so risky … dangerous … and that was part of his appeal. ¬†A smoker too. ¬†hubba. hubba. ¬†Don’t judge y’all, it was the 70s¬†after all.

My dream repeated itself, ¬†getting¬†married in an elaborate church wedding. ¬†Because I had the same dream over and over, I was sure it’d come true. ¬†I had the BIGGEST crush on him. ¬†Of course he was a player and lots of girls had the biggest crush on him. ¬†Since I had easy access and saw him more often, I mistakenly assumed I had an in. ¬†He was just too nice to say otherwise. He broke my heart … he broke lots of hearts.

He was very brotherly though and we were great friends. ¬†He kept my friend and I out of the trouble that he himself got in. ¬†I remember him standing on my front porch telling us to never become him. ¬†He could drink, smoke, party hard¬†but that was NOT for us. ¬†We lost touch after he dropped out of highschool. ¬†I can’t remember if he eventually graduated or not – maybe he got a GED. ¬†I think he was in and then kicked out of the service. ¬†For a time, he lived out of state. ¬†Last I remember, his dad got him a job, last ditch effort to stay out of trouble but on his lunch breaks, he’d take off and wander around. ¬†The job didn’t last due to lack of attendance. ¬†So sad really,¬†he became an addict. ¬†I wonder where he is and how is is doing today.

And what does not have to do with anything?!?!?  De nada.  Just musing and rambling on this rainy, cooler day.

As Alway, More To Come …

The Route Home

I drive up St. Mary’s to Cesar Chavez to 37 S to 90 E to Roland Rd, to¬†Rigsby which turns into HWY 87 E – onward to HOME. ¬†As I crawl up St. Mary’s, I am always struck by what I see. ¬†The proverbial never a dull moment. ¬†Today as I sat at a red light in front of the Aztec Theater I see what looks to be Lulu’s cohort – 18 to 20 something year old girls all lined up waiting for entrance to …¬†drum roll please … Charlie Puth and Haley¬†¬†Knox. ¬†Hmmm, even I’d like to see that show.

I hope they make memories tonight.  Living in the moment Рpast forgotten and future nowhere in sight.

As always, more to come …