Monday, May 29, 2006

Dream 11 Ik 15 Zip
I've noticed that I seem to dream more in the mornings. Or maybe those are just the ones I remember.
This is yet another AC/DC dream. What the hell do they represent in my subconscious?
I was younger, and there was some kind of gathering that seemed vaguely related to school. But what school, I don't know (college? High school?). I kind of thought of it like a prom, but it wasn't. And my best friend, Beth, was there, and I never went to any school with her.
Whatever it was, we were allowed to bring a date, and I brought Bon Scott, resurrected from the dead. He was older than me, as he should be, but not the full 22 years older. It seemed like he hadn't really died, but faked his death (I never have or will understand why people fake their deaths). We were all at some kind of amusement park or hotel or somewhere.
I only remember a few things that happened. One, there were a bunch of us hanging out and for some reason I realized I hadn't formally introduced Beth to my date. I was trying to figure out exactly how to word it and I said, "This is Bon Scott, the lead singer of AC/DC" although of course at that moment he WASN'T because Brian Johnson was. And Beth, who is friendly and talkative and not cowed by meeting celebrities (we met Marilyn Manson and his band a few years ago in NYC backstage at a Nine Inch Nails concert), literally couldn't speak. She just kept opening and closing her mouth. It was kind of funny because a few minutes before she had been talking to him just fine.
Then Bon Scott and I were sitting on the ground in front of someone's house which was right next to this park or whatever. The ground was bare dirt, smooth, like some parked there or something, and there was a mailbox, a green rubbermaid one. The lady who owned the house or lived there walked by us and she said something mean, but I can't remember what, implying that we were having sex, but we weren't. ("Get a room"--but that wasn't it) And somehow I knew that she was angry that people from this park were allowed to go to this mailbox. But I don't know why they were allowed.
Then I was with Beth, not Bon Scott, and we were watching TV--the news from England for some reason. And this guy was on a Tipper Gore-like tirade against rock n roll (Tipper Gore is the reason I didn't vote for Al Gore...not that I voted for Bush either.) They were showing him collecting CDs from people and then putting them into this book, like a photo album, with little pocket sleeves. I saw all kinds of rare CDs in there, little tiny 3" promo CDs and shaped CDs and picture CDs and I thought, "well, he's just putting them away somewhere, it's okay" and then he took that album and HE PUT IT INTO THE MICROWAVE. It was awful. Thousands of dollars worth of rare CDs sparking and burning. The guy was grinning away when he took out the smoking book. Beth and I were both almost crying in disbelief.
After that TV show the party was over. I went to find Bon Scott and he was gone and somehow I knew he was dead again. (And now, as I write this, I see that the man nuking the CDs killed him.) He had left some clothes behind in the room where he'd been staying and I also found a couple of cards, like greeting cards, from women at the party who had wanted to sleep with him and he'd just thrown them on the floor. And I was glad of that even though I hadn't slept with him either.
In the dream, I had a body size. I wasn't thin but I wasn't as fat as I am now either. I only mention that because usually in my dreams I have little or no awareness of my body.

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