Listening to Rush's 2112 as I type. Not widely considered great writing music, but what the hell. I watched the recent doc about the band, Beyond The Lighted Stage, last night. It was well done. I've been a fan of the band since I was a kid, but I realized while watching the doc that I knew very little about the people in the band. It was refreshing to learn they're well-adjusted, functioning individuals and far, far away from your cliched troubled rock stars. A writer recently referred to Rush fans as being music's equivalent to Trekkies. A good point, but Rush are way cooler than Star Trek. Let's see Captain Kirk write a song like Spirit of The Radio.
I'm watching the clock. If I'm to include a bunch of unfinished songs in my set this Friday, I better be about the business of finishing them. This means I probably shouldn't be doing what I'm doing right now. Better wrap it up, sayeth I.
Before I go, I'm going to share two things. One is tidbit from my weekend, the other a dream. Guess I'm not going to be wrapping things up just yet. I'll make it short and quick. Here goes.
Late morning yesterday, I decided to make a trip to Trader Joe's. I wanted to go fairly early in order to miss the traffic and also to get the chore out of the way so I could have the rest of the day to myself. Craig had stayed the night and was in the process of leaving. We both noticed that some idiot had parked right up to my car's ass. Since I was pulled up tight to the car in front of me, which happened to be Janelle's mother's, getting out was going to be a dubious affair. Get out I did, however, and it was actually fairly easy.
I drove through Davis Sq., directed by a few cops spaced out every fifty feet or so. The Square was shut down for some reason and I was lucky I got through. I made it to the store and noticed that Craig had called. I called him back and he told me he had a hell of time leaving my house. They had closed Broadway, which is nearby, but in the opposite direction I had traveled. Turned out there was a road race and driver's were being re-directed. Needless to say, Craig's trip took a bit longer than anticipated.
My return trip was similar. I made it to within a quarter mile of my house when I saw that the road leading there was closed. I drove further and further out of the way to find an open road to my house. Every road was closed. It was as if my house and the surrounding area were being quarantined. I gas light had already been on for a bit, so now I had to find a gas station. What a pain in the neck, that trip. I finally made it home about twenty minutes later. That incident, coupled with losing an hour to daylight savings, made yesterday more or less a lost day.
The dream. I only want to mention it because I've had several similar dreams. And by similar I mean almost exactly the same. So, I find myself boarding a plane with my father. We're headed to Florida. He rushed me on the plane before I had much time to think about it. A swell of panic arose within me, but it was too late to exit the plane. The doors had already closed and the plane was starting to move. I closed my eyes; I sought inner calm whilst avoiding looking at the plane take off. I felt the plane surge into the air; as we gained altitude, I felt that strange weightless feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I'd remembered it. I opened my eyes and didn't feel so bad about being in the plane. On the contrary, I was looking forward to seeing Florida and actually enjoying the ride a little bit. I felt safe. The plane began to descend and I wondered why. We couldn't possibly be in Florida yet. I looked out the window and saw that we were flying over the streets of Cambridge. We landed on Memorial Drive and started picking up speed. Good, I thought. We'll be air born in no time and won't prolong the trip any further. I closed my eyes again, wanting to get through the long ascent as quickly as possible. After a couple of minutes, I opened my eyes. We were still on the road. The plane drove back to airport. I didn't mind so much because I had realized while on the plane that I had left a bag behind (the same bag, I just recalled, that I left behind at work today). I ran back home to get it. That was when I woke up.
Odd, but even the parts where the plane was driving on the road was the same as the other dreams. Almost everything was the same. The only thing I can think of that was different was my father being in the dream. I could pontificate over this, but I wanted to wrap this up several paragraphs ago. Psychoanalyze among yourselves. I'm outta here.
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