Last night I had some pretty vivid dreams that happened to not be about the macabre or unsettling. Finally!
But they were just as real and filled me with a real sense of feeling. The first one, and definitely the most significant, was where I had a son! He was a little boy, probably between 6-10, named Paul Henry. I don’t know what his last name was but his name-name was both Paul and Henry. I remember thinking, “What a great name – I love that name!” because Paul Henry was my stepson. Don’t ask me who the mother was, there was a vague feeling of it being Diana, but this dream was really just about me and my boy. And it was such a great feeling! Very natural and full of lots of pride, hugging him and talking a walk; just being a role model. In the dreamland I had an overwhelming real-world sense of what it must be like to be a parent. Very surreal and a lot like another dream I once had with a daughter.
This dream, just like the last one, made me think about being a father. When that comes I think it will be an easy transition for me and a role that I will relish with every fiber of my being.
***I almost forgot!*** The dream morphed into Paul Henry the son becoming a black and white dog named Henry. He, like my son, was my little companion; someone I loved dearly who was eager to be by my side. Whew, I definitely don’t want a kid now but a dog would certainly be welcome.
The second dream I can actively recall from last night concerned Daddy. Max and I were on the balcony of a hotel on the bay of an ocean (not unlike Clearwater, but it seemed a little more tropical). It was just about Daddy casually talking about how he had been in the Navy and on a ship that had been sunk in this very bay. I was like, “whoa, whoa, whoa, whaaaaa….???” And he in very Daddy-like fashion just brushed it off as no big deal while also dropping in that he had to swim to the nearby sandbar where he was stranded for days until being rescued. As we walked way then I mentioned how I had been looking into the Navy Reserves (true life) and again, in very Daddy-like fashion, just said, “well do it.” Ok, THANKS dad.
ANOTHER dream I had a couple weeks ago, and I want to write it down before I forget, involved my old friend the rattlesnake. Rattlesnakes seem to be a reoccurring image in my dreams which on one level I get because they have always been one of my favorite animals, but man, they make for some harrowing nightmares.
What happened in this one was there was a rattlesnake behind my fridge here at 408 Erie St. and it was striking out as I was trying to subdue it. Well, I kept missing and it finally made it’s way out from behind and started lunging like mad. I was able to evade the first few darts of its head but when I tried to grab its head, I missed! Then it got me. Bam! Right in the bicep it sank it’s fangs. Then the snake disappeared but I knew I was in trouble. Recalling my limited knowledge of what to do, I vowed to remain calm as I walked to my bedroom and laid down, calling out to the house (Max was there for certain) to call 911. Meanwhile, I was trying my own luck but every time I dialed 911 I got the wrong number.
Stay calm, stay calm – someone call 911!!
I then calmly staggered out of bed but couldn’t ignore the faint voice of panic steadily growing louder within me. I walked outside (now at 5 Idora Blvd.) and a dude pulled up in a beat up car, got out, and presented to me the anti-venom. Man, this vile had a monster syringe that literally punctured a hole through my arm, tenting my skin on the other side. Fuck, man, it was not pleasant but I remember this kind of grotesqueness outweighing the alternative. After that everything was fine.
So there you go, Vincent, children and rattlesnakes. What the hell are you eating before bedtime?