So my dream last night went like this: I had been invited to a Soul Patrol convention, only it was more like a Gray Charles convention. I had decided not to go. As I was driving down Highway 411 to Rome, apparently going to my parents' house, I passed a new, very badly-designed Holiday Inn. It was on the right side of the highway in a spot where I remembered an old farm used to be. It was a hideous circular building, made mostly of glass, a cheap attempt at being modern. There was a big sign out front that read: "Welcome Gray Charles!" or something, then at the bottom, a private message from GC: "Julie or Jena, there is one room left. You get a free upgrade to a suite if you take it." I kept driving. When I arrived at a mythical small-town Rome (nothing like the real one,) I said to myself: "Wait a minute! You're not going to pass up a free suite upgrade!!!" and I turned around and headed back to the ugly glass hotel.
Upon arriving at the Holiday Inn, I went in to register and was greeted by a mean fat lady (sorry, in dreams it's not always pc) at the check-in desk. I remember being very annoyed by the weird placement of the desk, as it was up against the plate glass window and there was nowhere for her to stand and nowhere for me to sit my stuff down. She booked me into a room and I signed for it, not noticing until after I signed the $600 she ended up charging me for two nights in the suite. When I protested, she was very mean and said "That's the price you agreed to."
I went out of the lobby and looked into a big convention room where the Gray Charles thing was going on. It looked horribly dull, like a very bad high-school reunion. I kept walking and came to another room that seemed to be a snack area or reading room. There were some Trekkie-looking people there, and a very short midget-like man (ibid) in glasses. I kept walking, then realized that short man was none other than Gray Charles himself. I came back and peeked in the door and sure enough, it was him. Not wanting to give away his secret identity to the other people in the lobby, I just nodded, and he nodded back. Then I went to find my room, regretting coming and spending the $600 since the group looked very sad and not fun at all.
As I wandered through the labyrinth of hallways looking for my suite I stopped and went into a public restroom. When I tried to leave, the door wouldn't unlock. I forced back the panic (there were no windows and the claustrophobia was tangible) and tried to be calm and reasonable. I banged on the door but no one was around to hear me. I finally realized I had my cell phone with me, and that there was someone at the hotel who I knew I could call on for help. So I called Gray, who minutes later appeared and somehow unlocked the door. It was quite a knight in shining armor moment. He and I stood and talked in the hallway, and since we were away from the awful Taylor fans we were free to let loose and be ourselves. After that I don't remember much of the dream, and though I know there was some excitement and secretive yumminess to the conversation, the rest is a blur.
Besides the obvious 'being saved,' what does it all mean???? And which part might come true?
8 comments:
I'm a layman, in more ways than one, so take this with the proverbial grain, baby.
1. Gray will enjoy the intrigue but will not come to your rescue when an intriging story is afoot.He has the journalist instinct which seems to render other aspects as secondary.
2.Soul Patrol People are good, kind folk at heart. But when they start waving that weird fucking monkey head, start running in the opposite direction. Quickly.
3. Never dwell too heavily on dream intepretation as Frued first structured it. It's almost always about sex anyway. Usually with family and well, that's weird.
But wait! He did come to my rescue! And is Frued related to Freud, by any chance? You made a cute Freudian slip there! ;-)
I don't know what this could mean. Except the obvious: conventions in crappy chain hotels often harbor creepy souls, and fat ladies who work in said crappy chain hotels do tend to be mean old hags.
I had a scary dream last night, too. The draft was reinstated, with an age cap of 35, so I was gonna have to go somewhere. Chris Treadwell ran up to me to say he "was pulled for active duty in Brazil, dude." I hope that aural image makes you laugh as it did me.
About the Gormenghast books: your almost-12-year-old lad might enjoy them, but I doubt it. They're worth every minute, but they do take some getting through. Just like Lord of the Rings, and rather like Le Père Goriot. Peake has a love of detail and place description that edges up to Balzac - in fact, though there is a plot, the setting and atmosphere are more important a lot of the time.
He might like them in theory, but balk at the size and slowness of them in practice. And with all the intrigue, and whispered plots, and the comedy-of-manners elements that crop up... all that would have left me cold at almost-12. Even the big action sequences are done in loving, lingering slo-mo. A look at the BBC series might be better. Videodrome has it.
You, however, should read the books. ;)
Jules: Sorry for my typos last night--I was keyboard challenged The heady concoction of lack of sleep, one glass of merlot and too much to say faster than I could pound it out was the culprit. It happens sometimes. Still, I stand by my monkey head comment. I think Shelley is amazing and I like her blog, but that Monkbot freaks me out.
CW, I think that anytime you see someone waving anything on a stick at a concert, it's a good idea to move quickly in the opposite direction. Or question your being at said concert in the first place, sadly enough for TFH...
And Dr. M., I will read the books after I read your book. Is it done yet? ;-)
You'll be waiting for a good while if you want to read my finished book...
But I should have some more to run by you soon, o screen of mine. :)
On an unrelated note, I've just tagged you, baby. Your participation is required. Go to today's post on my blog for details. xoxo
You know what, Julie? I think you simply miss Gray. You miss being his special friend, who's in on his secret identity and who stands apart from the TFH throng of idiot fans.
I have that feeling sometimes, too, that a dream will come true, or that there's a message for me in the dream. I'll bet this one does come true in some way. He'll come back to you.
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