It’s 2 days before Thanksgiving and I’m driving by an airport on my way to meet you at work. There are wild turkeys flying in the sky. I meet Jerry at a very large industrial complex that looks to be a wholesaler to places like Lowe’s and Home Depot. Jerry’s working in plain clothes and wearing all black. We’re trying to talk but coworkers keep interrupting us. Someone has given me a motorcycle, a really nice one. A woman that you work with tells me she has something for me in her trunk so we walk over to her car. She gives me a bag and in it is a really nice black helmet whose visor is shaped like a porthole. Also, there are black leather gloves and jacket. It’s a nice ensemble. Jerry and I go back to talking but this very large gruff man who’s wearing a heavy metal shirt with graphics on it keeps interjecting. He has really long hair tied in a pony tail. We’re looking at each other like, when is this man going to go away?

I’m dreaming it’s birthday. I’m seeing cake and fun party things but there’s a part of me that knows it isn’t really my birthday today and I’m wondering who this new me is.

I’m watching three large balls on a large floor. One is larger and obviously dominating the other two smaller balls that are 1/4 the larger’s size. The larger ball is the size of medicine ball but it bulges at the top and bottom in the same way the earth bulges at the equator. I’m practicing at controlling the orbit of the smaller balls around the larger ball. I’m also controlling the larger ball’s position on the floor. The control is happening with both my mind and a dial in my right hand. It’s very challenging to try to control the orbits because if I use too much effort, I lose control. If I let go control too much, the balls swing out of orbit or hit the bigger ball. Suddenly, one of the smaller balls approaches me and I can see that there’s an eye on it like a camera lens. It stares deep into me and I deep into it. There’s a powerful acknowledgement that we’re looking each other as a rainbow like corona grows around the eye, but I realize that I’m starting to lose the connection. The ball starts to steer away as I wake up.

It’s like a Twilight Zone episode with Jack Kluggman. I’m watching him in this giant tunnel made of Spam. He’s walking thru it while a narrative voice is speaking. I begin to think that this may be an artery or some other tube in the human body, but why would it be made of Spam? Then, I’m standing at a counter in a little kiosk or caravan. A man is showing us that all food is made from Spam, not matter what it looks like. He has a piece of white meat, about the side of a chicken and cuts off a piece. It’s flaky and juicy and he coughs on it. Then he takes a piece and wipes it in some juices and hands it to the guy next to me for him to eat. He claims it’s all made of Spam, and no one would ever know the difference.

I’m at a childhood friend’s house. He tells me he’s going to make popcorn. I’m suddenly riding down the street on a bicycle into a lot of traffic. I realize that there’s way too much traffic in the direction that I’m going resisting my progress so I decide to turn around. I do and get out ahead of the traffic but I’m riding a different bicycle. This bike’s bars are crooked and they’re off center. I stop and make a feeble effort to fix them which doesn’t work, but it’s good enough to get back to my friend’s house. When I get there, it’s Kris’ house. I’m inside and start to tell my friend, which isn’t Kris, about the bicycle. He’s dropped the popcorn into a fryer. Rather than them being small kernels, they’re little yellow balls. I say those look like little nuggets and he’s like, “Yup.” We walk into the room where the TV is playing. There’s a show on. His mother is saying hi to me. She really likes me. I sit in the back so I don’t block her view.

I’m in a large house with a lot of people. I seem to be taking care of them in some way.
I’m in a car riding with a man in the back seat. We’re been driven along a rode out on the estate of the house. I’m talking about my vision quest and commenting that it was strange that it was only a day long. He comments that it doesn’t need to be long to be effective. I mention that the two large trees sang to me as we drive by them. He replies that he’s had a similar experience. I can hear the trees in the wind and it dawns on me that they’re cottonwood and I can hear them in my mind.

I’m in a part of New York, I think. I’m tracking this man who’s “fringe society” for sure. He’s tall, skinny, but thick boned. He’s somewhat crossed-dressed. He’s looking for the old Balboa Island, at least that what I think he says. I follow him to where he thinks it is, but it’s not there anymore.

I walk into a shop and it’s David Sanborn’s music shop. It used to be another famous shop like the “Zildjian” shop or something and he took it over. He has these really interesting mechanical conveyors to get cords moved around the shop so you can plug in any guitar and listen to it. I end up going there a second time with a man that’s like a cross between Kirby and Mel. David is showing all his stuff to him while I’m away doing something else. When I arrive there, I know the man is going to be really bored by all of this and I explain to David who’s talking away that he’s wasting this ‘cos it’s going over their head.

I walk into a restaurant with Mel and we’re talking about what to order. There’s been a huge shift in the space since a law was passed and the place in empty. I say, “Do you remember what this place was like. It was packed, constantly. You never came in here and didn’t see 200 people…” or something to that effect. It truly was interesting and the place needed work. It was all white with curved counter tops. It seemed very European, possibly Italian.

I’m outside at night in a lot somewhere. I’m talking to a man about being gay. He’s latino, very friendly. I see him lying in bed with his partner who’s African American. They make a really cute couple. I drive my Prius and subtley scrape a motorhome. I see the guys partner in his underwear and wearing an apron. I think it’s cute and I tell the man who says that he doesn’t want to have that kind of relationship with other guys referring to me making a sexual advance but I tell him I wasn’t implying anything. I don’t really want to have the conversation and I really just want to leave.

I’m at some sort of street fair and Mike is sitting in the street near some people and a vendor. I walk over and say, “Hi.” I ask him if he’s going to Pilot Rock. He says that he’s not going and that… I ask him about the sweat with Michael Bueno and something says, “Matthew.” I repeat that and he says in something that sounds like Italian that he later translates as, “Hurry and wash the dishes and give dad the bone,” apparently meaning it was exceptionally good. I notice a lot of beaded work at the vendors rug that is laid on the ground. I ask if Mike will be at practice Monday night.