Tag Archive | Dream

A Random Thought on Mothers Day


RIP, Mom

My own mother has been dead for nearly thirty-five years, and in all of that time I’ve only dreamed of her twice. I wonder why that is, because it seems very odd.

Geoffrey’s Dream

 

“So, I had this strange dream that we were at some art installation and they were showing a Louise Bourgeois piece and then they brought her out in a wheel chair.


After the thing, you disappeared and I was looking for you because you had my camera and I wanted a photo op with Louise. She had on these pink clogs that were like elevator shoes… somehow, I put them on and then I saw you in the distance in a parking lot. I said to Louise that I’d be right back. I was calling your name but you didn’t hear me, and I was running through the parking lot screaming your name. Louise was then chasing after me in her wheel chair trying to get her shoes back, I really wish there were services from the Lifestyle Home Lift every where she goes, that way she wouldn’t struggle that much.
.

And then I woke up.”

Happy Birthday, Ian Koss!

Ian and Gail Dancing
Gail and Ian Dancing at the Wedding of David Lee Beowulf, April 2002

Ian’s Dream, as Told to Gail

We had rented some hotel room in Melbourne as a party pad. I was
there with a bunch of friends, we were smoking something special in a
weird way — putting it on the stem of these miniature palm fronds.
This guy kept leaving the door open for some reason.

We’d closed the door when there’s a knock on it. We open it and it’s
the hotel manager, with a large group of expectant/confused kids
behind him. Like a hundred kids. We’re a bit freaked out, what with
the funny smell and everything, but the manager starts going on and
on, talking about how glad he is to have us here, how we’re
beautiful, and that it’s a real honor for us to stay in his hotel and
visit the town of Melbourne. What the fuck? Eventually we figure out
that he thinks we’re a band from Chicago named ‘Beautiful’ (do they
exist? It’s not a very Google-friendly name), hence the look on the
kids’ faces.

After a while, the band shows up, and we have a good laugh over the
whole thing. I give them my phone number so they can call me next
time they’re in town, writing it on a slip of paper. The singer looks
at it and goes ‘Koss… that’s what’s written on the headphone amp
that we have in the studio.’

The end.