in which the blog o' doom takes another step toward become nothing more than my online dream journal
Last night I dreamt that I was driving down a relatively empty stretch of Murfreesboro Road just south of Smyrna on a sweltering mid-August afternoon when I happened upon the fruit and vegetable stand of one Mr. Billy D. Williams. I had no choice but to pull over, as buying fresh tomatoes from Billy D. Williams is a chance a person only gets once, maybe twice in a lifetime.
He was leaning back in his folding chair and wearing sunglasses, a Mexican straw hat and his full Lando Calrissian outfit. I paid for the tomatoes and had been standing there shooting the shit with him for a few minutes when he suddenly looked over my shoulder and said, "Damn".
I didn't use an exclamation point because he was Billy D. Williams and he said it in a smooth kind of way, though I could still tell that a sense of urgency was implied.
So it was that I turned to see a small armadillo in a copper-colored robot costume bounding over the hill on his little armadillo legs.
"You better run, man", Billy D. told me.
"What do you do when he shows up, Billy D. Williams?" I asked.
"He doesn't just show up. I think he's after you."
That's when I began my leisurely jog in the opposite direction of the slowly charging armadillo in the copper-colored robot outfit. I don't know if armadillos are that slow in real life or if I was benefiting from super fast, yet leisurely jogging powers in my dream, but there was plenty of time to stop and have a bite of raw tomato and think things out while the armadillo pursued at his slow, yet determined pace. I asked myself:
1. What the hell did I do to this armadillo?
2. Does he think he's really fooling anyone with the robot outfit?
3. Why didn't I just get in my car and drive away?
4. Is Billy D. Williams stealing my car right now?
5. Is this some elaborate car jacking ploy put on by Billy D. Williams and a highly trained armadillo in a robot costume?
I remembered Lando's betrayal of Han and assumed the last of these to be sadly true.
However, in all fairness to Mr. Billy D. Williams, I awoke before it could be proven.
He was leaning back in his folding chair and wearing sunglasses, a Mexican straw hat and his full Lando Calrissian outfit. I paid for the tomatoes and had been standing there shooting the shit with him for a few minutes when he suddenly looked over my shoulder and said, "Damn".
I didn't use an exclamation point because he was Billy D. Williams and he said it in a smooth kind of way, though I could still tell that a sense of urgency was implied.
So it was that I turned to see a small armadillo in a copper-colored robot costume bounding over the hill on his little armadillo legs.
"You better run, man", Billy D. told me.
"What do you do when he shows up, Billy D. Williams?" I asked.
"He doesn't just show up. I think he's after you."
That's when I began my leisurely jog in the opposite direction of the slowly charging armadillo in the copper-colored robot outfit. I don't know if armadillos are that slow in real life or if I was benefiting from super fast, yet leisurely jogging powers in my dream, but there was plenty of time to stop and have a bite of raw tomato and think things out while the armadillo pursued at his slow, yet determined pace. I asked myself:
1. What the hell did I do to this armadillo?
2. Does he think he's really fooling anyone with the robot outfit?
3. Why didn't I just get in my car and drive away?
4. Is Billy D. Williams stealing my car right now?
5. Is this some elaborate car jacking ploy put on by Billy D. Williams and a highly trained armadillo in a robot costume?
I remembered Lando's betrayal of Han and assumed the last of these to be sadly true.
However, in all fairness to Mr. Billy D. Williams, I awoke before it could be proven.
posted by Rex L. Camino at 6:52 AM
3 Comments:
Where do I subscribe to these dreams?
I think you begin by spending your formative years playing football with an ill-sized and inadequate helmet. Couple that with way too much time in front of a television and you're on the right track.
It is both frightening and refreshing that our slumbering minds work in similar fashions.
Have you had the one in which Charles Bukowski approaches you while wearing a sombrero and asks you to play frisbee? Or the one where Bill Shakespeare asks you to thumbwrestle while wearing a speedo?
Dreams are powerful things, Rex!
Best,
Ryan
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