What a weird dream.

I dreamt I was cooking dinner, suddenly realized I was out of sunscreen (I didn't need it for the dinner. It was just a completely unrelated thought) and needed to go get some. I briefly contemplated waiting until after I ate. Then, realizing I was also out of silverware, I left right away.
But then my dream flitted to me eating dinner, and then again to cooking dinner at the point where I needed sunscreen and then again deciding to go get some...and the dream sort of looped a couple of times before I set out.
It was late at night. I couldn't decide whether to walk to Walgreens or to some now-vague other store which was a lot farther away, but which made sense at the time.
I set out in a random direction, planting each footfall carefully as I walked, so as to avoid stumbling, because it was pitch dark. My hands were outstretched to avoid bumping into anything.
Then I tried running. Running in the dark was thrilling. Then I said to myself, hey, this is stupid. Running in the dark is a great way to get hurt. Then I ran some more (a therapist would have a field day with this dream).
I quickly got lost. There were small scrubby trees and bushes, lots of rocks and boulders. There was very little grass, but lots of thick sandy dirt. I felt like I should know where I was. I kept telling myself that if only it were light enough I would surely spot a landmark I recognized.
I found it quite amusing. I was exasperated and angry that I couldn't get my bearings, but at the same time I thought it was pretty funny.
And-as in many of my dreams- I kept looping back to previous segments, or jumping forward again to some other portion, as if I were using the 'scene select' option on my dream DVD player. Thus I'd be proceeding slowly, groping my way, then I'd be back in the kitchen, then running in the dark, in the kitchen again, then running again, and so on.
Every so often I would pass under a street light which illuminated my surroundings enough that I could almost make out something I almost recognized in the distance, but I had to leave the light to see it more clearly and then I was lost again. I have no idea where the street lights came from, because I wasn't on a street. But the lights were there and made perfect sense.
The landmarks I almost recognized were pretty weird, too. At one point I thought I saw the now-defunct Arby's which was at Shelbyville Rd/Hubbards Ln. I remember walking towards it and thinking I'd run into either it or the (also closed) ice cream place across the street.
I don't remember what else I thought I recognized, but it seems they were mostly local. At the same time, though, there were no actual streets, just dirt and boulders and shrubs, and I remember being careful to avoid any cacti, though I never saw or felt a single cactus. It was like I was lost on the Llano Estacado but it was in Louisville.
Then I woke up.
When I woke I realized that the dream also had a soundtrack of a single song, and I'd really liked the song a lot, but I couldn't quite place what the song was.
I racked my brain trying to figure it out, but the details were very sketchy. Female singer- maybe Rosanne Cash? The longer I thought about it the sketchier it became, until I lost the tune, the voice, the beat, everything. Now I'm not even sure it was a song I'd ever heard before, or if I even heard it in the dream.
Strange.

I don't know anything about dream interpretation. If I had to take a stab I'd say it means 1) I feel lost, and 2)I've read too much Cormac McCarthy lately and need to read something that's not set in the Texas/New Mexico/Mexico desert.
But I don't feel particularly lost, and I've just about run through all McCarthy's novels already anyway, so I'm not sure how helpful the dream was.

I've been trying to avoid political topics. I have generally been unsuccessful.
I think I've mentioned unions before, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, I'm extremely pro-union. Boiled down to a nutshell, my basic belief is that the long struggle of organized labor is responsible for ending all sorts of very bad things- slave wages, dreadfully unsafe conditions, unbearably long hours, etc. etc. And the long, slow end of organized labor has pretty much correlated to a long, slow decline back into all of the above conditions.
People I speak with mostly seem to think I'm ridiculous for believing the end of unions will mean sinking back into the same conditions once described so colorfully by Upton Sinclair. I say "Of course it will lead to that. It already is leading to that. Duh!" Sure, conditions aren't nearly so dreadful at the moment. But the peak has already been reached and workers are definitely heading back down the hill.
And it's amazing how fast the fall may come once a little speed is built up.
Why wouldn't it lead to that? Because government regulation will prevent it? Without unions, who is going to make sure government regulations are enforced? Or make sure these regulations even stay on the books?

I've just been thinking about that a lot the last few days because of the stuff in Wisconsin. I'm especially galled by the argument that union workers have nothing to complain about because "they make more than me, they pay a lower percentage of their health care than me, they have it better than me..."
Well duh! again. Why is that an argument against unions? It sounds to me to be more of argument to get your ass into a union.

A Nonnet for Valentine's Day

Why a nonnet? Why nonnot?




My Valentine? Poor dear, she was hit
Once or thrice by an ugly stick
And now she’s hard to look at.
And the kids? Well you see,
Ugli fruit drops down
To ground beneath
The humble
Ugli
Trees.

How had I never heard of Axe Cop? Best thing ever! I am now a very big fan, and anyone who has not read the Axe Cop web comics needs to do so immediately.

Look, I imagine I'd enjoy kicking and beating Anderson Cooper as much as the next man, but aren't things getting a little out of hand?

Can't we send Mitch McConnell over there or something? To, you know, just sort of wander around the square and ask people to calm down. I'm sure it would work out fine- one way or the other.

Or maybe Glenn Beck could set up a chalk board in downtown Cairo and diagram what the protesters are doing wrong. I'm sure it would be appreciated.

What a mess. I can't remember the last time I was so fascinated by the news. There certainly have been other huge news stories in my lifetime, but I don't believe any of them had such a sustained 'I wonder what will happen next, because it could be just about anything' aspect to it.

*I had a bad cold, but I'm feeling quite a lot better now. Just a little bit of lingering crud.
However, this past week was pretty miserable. Last Sunday night I had such a nasty coughing fit that I strained a muscle in my rib cage. It was bad enough that for two or three days the only way it didn't hurt was if I lay flat on my back.
The biggest problem with that was the conflict with the fact that the only way I didn't cough a lot was if I was sitting straight up. It was my own little Middle-East crisis with no resolution.
Much like in geo-politics, I used various half-measures and compromises which satisfied no one and treated the symptoms instead of the underlying causes, and hoped the problem would go away.

*When I got up this morning I decided to check in on Facebook for a few moments and see what everyone has been up to. The little icons that show who else is on line showed that Dad was the only one. I'm pretty sure that means I got up too early on a Sunday morning.

*Friday night I was pedaling away on my exercise bike and watching a Planet Earth episode when Erin called to sell me cookies. For some reason, even though Kim's number is programmed in my phone the caller wasn't indentified, and I didn't recognize the number. The combination of the loud television, and my exercising and panting for breath made it quite an uphill challenge for someone with a quiet phone voice like Erin to identify herself. I said "hello" and "what" a few times, couldn't hear anyone distinctly, and so concluded by telling the caller she must have the wrong number.
So, sorry Erin. Some cookie customers are tougher sales than others, and I proved to be one tough cookie.

I listened to a lot of Paul Simon this week. Also, I have a bad cold. That should be enough explanation.

Hello Nyquil my old friend,
I'm going to guzzle you again,
Because mucus softly creeping,
Is keeping me from sleeping,
And the clogging is affecting my brain,
It will not drain,
And my cough is hacking.

In restless dreams I snort and moan,
And grunt and sneeze and groan,
I need it dark so I dim the lamp,
Blankets keep out the cold and damp,
Unshowered, I'm sure I am a ghastly sight,
I hope I make it through the night,
And my cough is hacking.

And in the naked light I saw,
Ten thousand Kleenex maybe more,
I can't breathe without wheezing,
I can't talk without rasping,
I'm full of germs that I really should not share,
So don't come near,
And my cough is hacking.
______________________________
Still two full verses to parody but eh, you get the idea.
I think it's pretty funny but I might be wrong. Is there alcohol in Nyquil?