Sunday, August 19, 2007

Swinging for the fence, got lucky with the strike

Could not help but notice that our local news rag, The Tennessean, highlights an above-the-fold, Page One headline: "Retired Garth still swings for radio hits." I was not aware that my jest about Garth Brooks' box sets would be prescient. This is news? But more importantly, this is music?

The new box set, however, will not be hawked at Wal-Mart. The overly-laudatory article breathlessly informs us that, once the royalties are tallied up from this latest product, Garth "could surpass Elvis."

Looking forward to the postage stamp.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Dream visit from a group of friends

Strange, ghostly image
Originally uploaded by an0nym0usmuse
I've been pondering a dream that I had yesterday; I was tidying up a room that I was staying in, when suddenly a crowd of people, thirty or more, piled into the room. It was not an unfriendly invasion, though I quickly realized that my visitors were "dead." I seemed to know them, though I could not name them. They watched me with amusement as I took photographs of them; I wanted evidence that they were visiting me.

They set about rearranging my room, moving my CD collection to the other side, and organizing my general disorder.

Someone wanted to hear some music. I searched, but couldn't find my portable players; they had moved them! But I wasn't angry. My room needed sorting, anyway.

We talked. I asked questions. They told me about their world.

I realize, now, after many years, that our perceived physical world is only a small slice of total reality. While alive, we walk through it in a fog, with horse blinders on. The "dead" inhabit that greater world that exists contiguous to our physical planet, and beyond. And beyond the world of my visitors lie even greater, more distant worlds, and infinite threads binding us to all we have been, all we will be, and all we have known.

What had I done to have the honor of this visit? I'm not sure, but I think that "they" realize that I need some answers to some vexing questions, and the answers aren't "here." So I am pulling some strings, calling up some old friends, calling in some favors. I am at one of my life crossroads, and I need to make informed choices.

When I said that I hoped that they would visit me again, they were again amused with me. Apparently, they had been visiting me regularly, sometimes in dreams, at other times, in other ways--I simply did not remember it, or know it. "Every Saturday," however, was what I was told--I could expect them to drop in.

Plenty of time to think up a new round of questions.