Going back in three dreams to visit the college where I graduated. Unrecognized by Doc Wimmer and Doc Hunter (only I affectionately called him Duck Hunter ) they had remodeled the labs into three sections shaded with mahogany smoked woods. Beautiful I thought and went out to have lunch on the new balcony. Class started and the teacher was up to tricks. His handout was a complicated picture of different pathways through the human anatomy of the brain. He read and lectured while the rest of the students pretended to read the picture on the handout understanding every word. Finding his real lecture notes.....scribbling down his every word frustrated that I would never remember. Unable to answer any question completely, the answers I gave only raised a whole new set of questions, which lead to more problems, some of which I didn't know were problems and I was as confused as ever, ashamed, I told the class...
I'm confused on a higher level, and about more important things.

"You head up the stairs and we'll send the bags up the dumb waiter to you."

"Why don't we just take the elevator?"

Just then, the elevator door closed.

Discofever, you're a cultureless boor.

Dwelling on my incomplete month-after meet review, my fancies of slumber turn to the future, to an assuredly greater EverythingConvention lurking in our future as near as this upcoming summer.

Ornate and intricate plans are laid out - arrangements made with local world-class businesses to ensure only the best available for my international and cross-continental visitors, activities plotted out and booked both representing the best of Vancouver and unavailable anywhere else in the world.

As the day approaches the preparations are finalised and confirmed. People aren't just going to write reviews of this meet, they're going to tell their grandchildren about it.

The last few ticks of the minute hand pass and from all four cardinal points, almost as if choreographed, they arrive, on time and unhassled. Introductions are made, greetings exchanged, formalities impeccably extended.

But my guests must be weary from their long and arduous voyages! Come, let us hie us to...

What was that, discofever? You want to go to Denny's? But we have at our disposal the finest sorbettos and this amazing Saltspring goat cheese...

No, listen - the only factor Denny's has is that it's consistent; it'll taste the same no matter where in the world you go. It's not good, it's merely familiar. No surprises. You can always eat there at some other time in your hometown, while here we have this amazing and unique...

What, now bones wants to go to Denny's too? But... but we have reservations for thirty! (sigh) Well, let us to the Denny's, then. But for afterwards I've gotten us tickets to this one-of-a-kind performance by internationally-renowned...

What, discofever? You want to go see Erin Brockovich instead? And now nate does too? But... but you can ogle Julia Roberts' gams in every movie theatre on the continent! While you're here in Vancouver wouldn't you prefer to do something you can't do anywhere else?

And take off that ridiculous hat!

in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...

Lucid Fly-by

  • In a modern art museum with my friend, Ben. When no one is looking, he grabs an Andy Warhol painting off the wall and runs out.

  • Fragment of Radha.

  • With my friend, Mario, we're in a car, driving down to the Oakes field. When we reach the edge of the grass, we both become lucid and decide to pull a Thelma and Louise--Mario floors it across the field towards the cliff edge--we know we're invincible. As we glide into freefall, I float free of the car and into the air. Now it is the world that is moving, not I, as I watch all the UC Santa Cruz colleges whiz by at the speed of sound. Sometimes my feet reach the ground again and I see people fighting with swords and trading goods. I meet others and talk to them about lucid dreaming. Now I'm sitting in front of the Porter College dining hall. Now I'm in my living room in Santa Rosa. I demonstrate flying to the others in the room as I leap up to the interior balcony. Now I'm in Italy, flying over an old city by a river. Down below my mother calls to me from the huge trees lining the riverbank, chastising me for my absent-mindedness.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.