I’m in a metropolitan area, meeting Andy and another woman on a street corner. They want to take me somewhere. We get in a car and drive to a frontage road next to a major freeway. There are houses that I’m looking at as we drive along. We get to a large cement coloured, stucko’d home, two stories tall, with a gigantic oak tree in front. There are car ports underneath a huge veranda where the tree is, and the entrances are to it are archways. There are love seats built into the branches of the oak tree. It’s really an awesome design but it look a little unkempt. I mention this to them and as it turns out, this where we’re heading. I think the woman with Andy lives there.
We go inside. It’s probably the most exotic place I’ve ever been. It’s obviously a musicians hangout because nearly every room has music equipment, but it also seems like it’s owned by somewhen who knows their lighting and electrical really well because every room is set up with beautiful lighting. There are amazing draperies, tapestries, rugs, and cloths from Asia everywhere. You really can’t see any wall space because everything it covered with them. There is very low furniture in most every room with pillows on every floor. It looks like a sheikh’s tent. There are lots of people in every room, and the place seems to be endless large room, one after another, each with a slightly different culture to it.
At last, I’m standing with Andy in a particular room and get some info from her, tho I don’t recall what, and I turn to leave. I’m trying to remember my way out and happen upon a room with about 6 giant tv screens. It’s the most modern of all rooms, and there’s a central controller to all the tvs, and a guy controlling the broadcast of a game on about 4 of them. I walk thru that room and end up in what looks like my grandmother’s house, except that it’s been made into a quasi office space. I’m on some sort of mission there. I walk down the hallway to speak to a guy whose office is that direction and as I pass the bathroom, he’s taking a leak without having closed the door. I pass by and door closes behind me as he realizes what he’s done. I wait in the hall for him until he comes out. He’s a heavy set man, probably in his late 40’s with a reddish, receding hair line. He explains to me that there are different parts of the world that need the message I’m going to send out. He points into the kitchen as drawers that contain the info on each country that I need to connect with. He’s speaking of things that I don’t know a lot about, and I’m having difficulty piecing it all together but I get the gist of the task at hand.
