October 28th, 2004

profile new

Now What?

The Red Sox won the World Series and the world didn't end. Who Knew?

I'm struck by the possibility that anything is possible. I'm basing this off of two things, 1, the aforemention victory, and 2, this strange dream I had. I dreamed I was watching an air show with my family - my sister & brother-in-law and their son, and my dad, specifically. We were standing on the tarmac of the airfield, watching these planes fly low overhead, doing incredible things. It was hot, and the heat danced off the tarmac like a team of belly dancers - so just about everything was hazy and out of focus. The sky was very, very, very blue.

All of the sudden, after the Blue Angels finish their routine, this large white plane comes into view. It starts flipping over veritcally, end to end. It gets so close we can see the orange and blue strips down the side. Too quickly, it's too close - it's going to crash. Every starts running. My family stays put, afraid to get separated. The plane begins a horizontal roll inches from the ground. It hits the tarmac, and the cockpit breaks off and skids to within inches of us. None of us are hurt, though the area is filled with the wreckage of the plane and dust and garbage. People running all around us are panicking, screaming about terror attacks.

My family and I somehow find our car, and miraculously, though it is covered in garbage and lugage from the plane crash, we can drive away, unhurt. The radio isn't working, and we can't get any news about what just happened. Everytime I look into the review mirror, I can see the image of the white plane flipping over in the sky.

We stop at a casino, because it's the closest place where there might be television news and bathrooms. Somehow, though we weren't separated earlier, this is where we all scatter. The casino is very dark. The walls are painted black, there are no windows, and the lights are high warehouse-style. The slot machines are enormous. Some of them are twelve feet high. A casino worker puts a ticket in my hand and tells me I have to go sit at a slot machine. All I want to do is find a tv playing a news station. I want to know if the plane crash was a terror attack or just an accident. There is one television at the casino bar, and I think I see my dad standing there, but I can't get close enough to it. Another casino worker sees the ticket in my hand and gives me a walkie-talkie, telling me he'll call me when one of the slot machines is free. He thinks I'm in the slot tornament that's going on. Most of the slots are empty, so I try to find someone else and point this out to them. The casino workers start avoiding me. I'm still holding the radio and the ticket. Suddenly, the wall of the casino is blow apart. Plaster and managled metal are everywhere.

In the confusion, I pass the walkie-talkie off to the first casino worker the one that gave me the ticket. He's covered in blood and white dust. The second worker comes over and yanks the radio out of his hand and starts yelling at him for dripping blood on the floor and being irresponsible with the radio. He pushes me in the middle of the back, hard, telling me to get to a slot machine and ignore everything else.

I think I see my sister and my nephew, so I start running toward the blown-out wall of the casino, where brilliant white daylight is streaming into the black room. I stop before I get there though, because suddenly there are half a dozen televisions around me, all playing out scenes of different plane crashes. People gather around, and everyone murmurs about terror attacks and wonders how many people have died. When I turn away from the televisions, my family is all there too, watching the televisions. We decided to leave, but we don't right away, because the ticket I've been holding is for a whole lot of money.

I know, it doesn't seem like a dream filled with possibility. It was downright scary at times. It was one of those dreams I seemed to be having all night, from the moment I hit the pillow until I woke up, (just as I was standing at the cashier window and the bills were being counted out to me, large stacks of them). But what got me about it wasn't that it was scary, but that when I woke up I sensed that something was about to change. Something in a very big, loud way. And with the tingly euphoria of last night's game still fresh, well, my brain skipped to the idea, that anything is possible - good or bad.

What this will mean is hard to say. Perhaps sometime in the future I'll be able to look back and say this day, this dream, meant something. Who knows?
  • Current Music
    One Way Ticket