Left Hanging Live The Dream
Some My recurring dream goes back to the late seventies when our family car was a Volkswagen Beetle. I once dreamed I was backing the Beetle down an incline, possibly my driveway on 8th Street, and it wouldn’t stop. I could slow the speed of descent by pressing on the brake pedal, but the car would not stop. At other times, I’ve dreamed of backing toward a lake or river and the brakes not working properly. An element of pending danger always cloaks my recurring dream. Yet, so far, I’ve not had an accident involving backing an automobile down a slope in my recurring dream. Barbara remembers a dream she had concerning the Volkswagen in which our family plunged into a lake while inside the car. Barbara says that I told everyone to remain calm, because I had heard that a VW would float for two hours before completely submerging. She also remembers that as the water began to pour into the interior that I said, "Let’s get out of here," and we all began to bail out. I’m glad we never had a real life experience that compared to her dream, for I can’t swim. In the seventies, National Lampoon spoofed Ted Kennedy’s tragic accident at Lake Chappaquiddick claiming, "If Teddy Kennedy drove a Volkswagen, he’d be President today." I can’t speak for others, but my dreams don’t always make a lot of sense and often seem like a movie that’s been heavily edited before being released. A recent "thriller" I dreamed is a good example. I was in a car and approaching a highway construction zone. As I recall, a major intersection was being reworked. I remember visualizing something similar to a cloverleaf intersection and a span being removed. In my dream, I was familiar with the old roadway, but couldn’t figure out the changes being made. As I drove up a long ramp, like one might find crossing a river or as a section of a high overpass, I suddenly realized the roadway was about to end. I stopped my car, got out, and walked to the edge of what I discovered to be a precipice. Actually, my fear of heights prevented my walking, and I crawled to the edge. Another motorist drove up and complained there had been no warnings the roadway was about to end. Without any warnings or barricades, he was upset that someone might drive over the edge and be killed. The next thing I remember is trying to get back to ground level. Two others and I were on foot, about to walk down the ramp, but the roadway was not concrete. It had a sheen, like stainless steel, and was structured somewhat like rural bridges I saw during my youth that had two sets of raised planks on a wooden platform for the tires of cars, trucks, or wagons. However, in my dream, empty space was all that lay between the shining runways for the tires. I realized I would not be able to walk down such a structure and had begun to crawl when one of the other motorists offered, "Do you want us to help? We can hold your arms to steady you?" "I’d probably just faint," I responded. "In that case, maybe you’d be better off trying it your way," he said, and soon I was alone. Earlier in my dream the concrete span of roadway I had driven on changed suddenly to something like stainless steel, and what had been roomy enough for two or more lanes of traffic had just as suddenly become one lane. Also, what had been a solid foundation was now an airy one with plenty of room to fall hundreds of feet at the first misstep or loss of balance. Again, the circumstances of my dream changed, and I lay on my stomach on a strip of roadway no wider than me and with nothing but space on either side. I could not see the ground below, only the crisscrossed supports beneath the narrow, metallic platform that held me suspended. The only way out of my predicament was to slither on my belly down the ramp, which I began by tightly gripping the sides of the platform with both hands. The last thing I remember before awaking from my dream was that I was afraid to try to make it down the ramp on my own, but there was no one to help me. The dream is more than a week old, now, and as I type this article, my palms are clammy with moisture. Heights do that to me. Just thinking about heights does that to me. Dreams don’t normally stick with me very long, but the nature of my "disappearing roadway" dream was such that I can’t seem to forget it. It needs a better ending, but I shared all I remember from the dream. Some folks are imaginative and are able to take an unfinished story to a logical or surprising conclusion. I don’t possess such skills, but if any reader would like to submit an ending to my highway ramp dream, I would be interested in reading it. So, if one feels inspired to conjure up a way of getting me down or rescuing me, please submit your response in writing, otherwise this article will forever be like my dream and…left hanging.
Big Three Paul - Mark - Bob Periodically, I am privileged to host my boss for a week, as we visit key retailers in Mississippi, Arkansas, Tennessee, and Louisiana. It’s a good business opportunity for both of us in that retailers enjoy personal contact by persons with whom they most often communicate via telephone. About three months ago, I was informed that in addition to my boss, Bob McGehee of Atlanta, GA, two individuals from the Midwest Regional office of SUPERVALU, were interested in visiting retailers serviced by SUPERVALU Indianola. Mark Grube shares a position in Retail Technology similar to my boss, and both he and Bob McGehee report to Paul Goodwin, Director of Retail Technology for the Midwest Region headquartered in Kenosha, WI. The last time I had to make a presentation to my bosses and peers in the Midwest Region, I included a photo of my home taken the prior Christmas, and invited everyone to join my family and friends at the next fish fry. While a number of folks expressed amazement and interest involving the event, I never expected anyone to accept my hospitable offer. Paul and Mark proposed three dates for the summer of 2004 to meet with retailers in the respective territories serviced out of Anniston, AL, Quincy FL, and Indianola, MS. The original proposal was to visit Anniston in May, Indianola in June, and Quincy in July. However, I noticed the dates in June corresponded to that of the Miss Mississippi Pageant, and the dates in July coincided with the week of the RRN fish fry. In responding to the proposed dates, I suggested a date swap between Indianola and Quincy, and tossed Paul and Mark a bone. "If you’ll swap Indianola and Quincy and stay an extra day, you can come to my fish fry on July 31st." To my great surprise, I was informed they would be happy to change the dates and accept my invitation. It would require them to spend two additional nights in Mississippi, but they felt it would be worth it. However, once the realization set in, for me, that I couldn’t take off work the week of the fish fry to tidy up the place and get all the tables and chairs set up, I began to question my wisdom (if not my sanity) in inviting my bosses to the fish fry. "How in the world are you going to get all of the last minute things done, when you’ll have the ‘Big Three’ with you all week long?" I asked myself. Initially, I considered putting Jason in charge of collecting all the required patio furniture from friends, and setting up the backyard canopies along with the necessary tables and chairs. However, in contacting retailers and putting together an itinerary for the week, I realized that Friday would probably not be a suitable day for meetings and held it as an open day in case an adjustment to or postponement of a scheduled meeting were required. It has proven to be a good decision, as my bosses told me they were willing to help with any of the last minute preparations. I’m sure Jason was relieved to learn his dad would be back home on Thursday night instead of Friday night and that his responsibilities would be less than he expected. Earlier, I promised the Big Three a generous dose of Southern hospitality, and as of this writing they have not been disappointed. They have been impressed with the cordiality of the retailers we have visited as well as the friendliness of persons we’ve encountered in restaurants and motels. I’m confident an even greater expression of hospitality awaits them, as they meet some of the friends and family of this writer at the fish fry. Unfortunately, the weatherman has chosen to spoil an otherwise perfectly great week of July weather by forecasting scattered thunderstorms for Saturday, July 31st. My wife and I are committed to having a good time and enjoying our guests, and while rain, if it actually comes our way, may dampen our surroundings, it will not dampen our spirits. To those of you who could not attend this year’s fish fry, I can only say, "You may have missed the grandest time of them all."
Bodock Beau Health Questions The following should not be taken seriously. After all, this is a humor column. These are some unexpected answers to those nagging health questions from Dr. Buford Teapotts, MD.
Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this
true?
Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
Q: Is beer or wine bad for me?
Q: How can I calculate my body/ fat ratio?
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise
program?
Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
Q: What's the secret to healthy eating?
Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around
the middle?
Q: Is chocolate bad for me? Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
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of
us are troubled by a recurring dream, troubled in the sense that it keeps
happening and troubled sometimes by the nature of the dream. It’s been
several years since my recurring dream last visited me or else I dreamed
it without an awareness of it when I awoke. Dream researchers tell us that
everyone dreams, but depending upon how soon we awaken following a period
of dreaming, we may or may not remember the dream.
