Odd...

I like naps, afternoon ones if I can sway it. Those little cat naps are at times more pleasing than eight hours of sleep at night. They're also the ones where the best dreams are made. Today produced an odd one.

 

Many of these dreams consist of just talking to people. Dead relatives, rock stars and others from my past. Some are not so nice. Those ugly ones have me talking to people who are showing their worst sides. Great, I get to relive part of the past in all it's ugliness right here and now. Other times the interactions show them at their best and fullest. That's the times when people weren't afraid to drop the act, the mask or at least have the bravery to be themselves and speak their minds as they truly are. In those times the play between we two is natural and genuine.

 

So, I'm having a conversation with my Mom, who was svelte and thin. This must've put her in the early 60's and prior to that before middle age makes us all fat. But as dreams go, this felt like it was taking place in the 90s. As the conversation is moving along, I see her put a tube to her nose and snort, what I think is face powder off the kitchen table. No, it wasn't face powder at all I come to find out. I find her stash on the bureau, a heaping pile of rocky cocaine. I exclaim she must have spent a small fortune to buy it. I then turn around to see her quickly hide another amount in the back of an upholstered chair that swings out like some secret hiding place. Mind you, my Mom's closest approach to any illicit drugs was nil. Any drugs she took at all, came off a doctor's prescription pad.

 

All the while the dream is playing out, I hear Blind Melon's No Rain playing in the background.

 

What the hell was this dream all about? I say to myself as it awakes me.  An hour has gone by and I still have “No Rain" playing in my head.