I’m sitting at a table with 3 black guys. I think they’re about my age. One seems to be a good friend of mine, tho in real life I don’t know him. The other 2 are old friends of his that he went to school with. They’re cracking a lot of jokes and cuttin’ it up about things they did when they were younger. All 3 are dressed in modern rags and look pretty hip. I feel like I wish I had more stories myself but I just listen.

There’s a glimpse of leaving a house in Laurel Canyon, down where the liquor store is, but it’s flipped 180 degrees. So, the Hollywood Hills dreamland is what’s being used here. I’m turning the corner on my way somewhere and I’m on a bicycle or something like that.

I’m with Kevin E., driving him around, helping him to do something. We end up at a central point near a large church. He’s above me, kind of caressing my neck with his hand. It feels nice and he’s smiling. He has to make a phone call so we get in the car and I take him to the front of the church and drop him off. He tells me not to wait for him.