Dream #460 (June 16, 2012)

I wish I had more time to do this daily.


I dreamt that I was sitting in the bleachers at an Oregon-Davis High School basketball game next to Adam Pflugshaupt (former basketball teammate at O-D).  We were discussing our lives as we watched.  Somehow the O-D team was actually very good.

For some reason I was wearing long brown pants and a flannel suit coat.

After the end of the third quarter, I realized that it was time for me to go to class.  I leapt over the side of the bleachers and slid down a pole there, and hustled out of the gym, through the rounded hallways, and into the classroom.

Teaching this particular class were Mr. Hirschy and Mrs. VanDeMark (who both still teach at O-D).  Once I walked in, I sat down in front of an organ and began to play, showing the class that I had completed my homework.

After I finished, a girl that I'd never met stood up and read an excellent essay she had written on Jack Kerouac that was quite interesting.  Then, before Abby Carver could deliver her presentation, my organ began to, on its own, play back what I had played before.  I apologized and attempted to shut the thing off, but I was unsuccessful.  Adam Konkey was laughing hardily behind me during the debacle.

Finally, the song ended, and Abby, then Erin Rosander (now Erin Morris I believe), were able to give their presentations.  As Mr. Hirschy stood up to speak, my organ, once more on its own initiative, melodized the room.  I was embarrassed, and I could detect a bit of annoyance on the faces of both teachers in the room (though most of my classmates thought it was hilarious).  At the end of the organ tune, the old hymn "Blest Be the Tide that Binds" played, and all the room (excluding me) sang along.  It sounded wonderful, but afterwards Mr. Hirschy scolded me for not knowing my equipment.

Then Adam Konkey and Abby Carver began talking with me about life and, for some reason, mathematics.

After the conversation was over, I complimented the girl who had read her essay as I walked out of the room.

The hallways were dark.  I turned around and the classroom, though lit, was empty.


Then I awoke.