Dream Log: April 27, 2000

I'm hanging out in the Florida room of the house where I grew up when I see lightning hit a tall tree just beyond the back yard, on the golf course behind our property. Chunks of tree, some flaming, fly in all directions, including towards our house. The effect is by ILM, and it's basically copied from the scene of debris flying towards the camera from the first machine in "Contact".

After the debris lands I think how cool that was, and then I think I'd better go outside and make sure the chunks of tree aren't setting anything on fire.

As I step outside I remember that there was a can of gasoline out in the middle of the backyard, on the patio, and I see the muted glow of a radiant blue column, like the stem of a mushroom cloud, centered on where the can of gasoline was.

I realize with horror that the gasoline must have mostly turned into fumes or something, because a bit of tree has apparently just ignited a fuel air explosive in my backyard. I can see the blue cylinder of flame grow slowly outward toward the house. I brace mentally for impact, knowing that I'm going to be knocked on my ass no matter what I'm thinking about anyway, and it occurs to me to shout a warning to my mom and my brother. It comes out as "...oh shit."

The blue cylinder grows towards me, accelerating in slow motion so that its radius is roughly r = 2^t-1 (despite all the laws of physics I know, dammit), but I have time to see it coming, and

CUT TO BLACK for a quarter to a half a second and then CUT TO

us all talking about how lucky we were (don't ask me, it's a candy-ass plot device but that's what I dreamt), and my mom showing a scrapbook of the tragedies she's had to help people deal with (she really is a counselor at a high school in Miami where tragedies are too common).

Incidentally, my last words -- or should have been last words, had the screenwriter known a damn thing -- were "...oh shit.", which were also the real last words of Mario de la Peña (writeup coming eventually), my best friend's brother, who on February 24, 1996 was shot down by a Cuban MiG over the Florida Straits as he was flying for Brothers to the Rescue.

But I don't think I was quoting him at the time. I was just dreading the impact of that expanding column of blast wave.

Incidentally, this is my first dream log and I really have to get back to sleep now.

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yesterday/tomorrow

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My Previous / Next dream log.
Dream logs for April: 4th, 14th, 17th, 22nd, 27th.

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I started the dream playing pool at this pub (that is actually a restuarant-cum-cafe in real life) just off the Harrow road. Next thing I know I'm arguing with the land lady because she wouldn't give me back my silver jacket. I got very agitated and so I lifted the pool table top (just imagine the pool table is like a tupperware container) and found my jacket hidden inside. I knew they were trying to trick me because I knew there was two more jackets that looked like mine hidden in the other pool tables (I didn't actually see them, I just knew).

I told the land lady not to piss me off any further because otherwise, I threatened I would burn down the pub. She was furious and began opening a bottle of beer. Then we start to wrestle over it, I think I was worried she might try to pour it over me. I managed to stop her. Then someone from the crowd gave her a bigger bottle.

I moved really close to her and whispered in a menacing tone that I didn't like her (i.e. I'd kill her). She got very scared. Realizing that I had said something really stupid I started to make my exit. The land lady had told these two redneck cops with big bellies who were in the pub what I had just said.

One of the cop grabs me by the shoulder gently but firmly and asks me to accompany them. Then he grabs my hand and tells me to place my free hand on the other cop's belly at all times. As were walking I noticed this other guy.

The guy didn't appear to be a cop so I was wondering who he was. Perhaps he was going to make a statement at the police station. For some reason he stuck out the most from all the people in the dream; he was very skinny with black hair and wore a stripey blue top, jeans and trainers.

Soon I began to notice we weren't heading to the cop shop. Instead we arrived at an Asian food store. We walked up these three steps to the back room. I saw a walk-in-fridge which I knew they were going to throw me into. Luckily it wasn't working so I wouldn't freeze to death, I'd just suffocate instead!

The cop holding my hand walks in to inspect it. Then the stripey jumpered guy tries to close the door behind the cop, but he fails. There's a table in the way of the door! I now realize this guy (stripey) hates the land lady too.

The cop who my new friend tried to lock in the fridge doesn't even notice he was about to be locked in. Now here comes the unbelievable luck. The second "place your hand on my belly at all times" cop walks in to join his bud.

This time my stripey chum manages to close the door! We start to make a run for it, but before we get out of the store door we notice the commotion that the two cops are making. So we return to the back room and close the door that leads to the room with walk-in-fridge.

Finally make our escape! The Asian food store is now a fabric/silk warehouse. I ask stripey where are we going to run to. He points to the bridge (it's called the halfpenny steps I think) on Harrow road.