Saturday, November 28, 2009
I'm at a radioactivity recovery triage facility. I'm interested in all the activity going on. I'm in line in the reception room. The nurses hand out white protective clothing, over coat, hat, booties. Mine isn't a hat, but a loose weave gauze bag I hold over my mouth. There is a woman pharmacist with short stringy hair. All of her replies to my questions are in pharmaceutical words. In the waiting room all the people are okay. There is a line to the receptionist. There are chairs around the outside of the waiting room by the windows. There are magazines on the coffee tables. I go in back where boy is being re-rated for radiation poisoning. What could he be doing to get radiated.
I'm playing basketball in the gymnasium at William Clark elementary school. There are a lot of other people playing ball on the court. It's a mixed crowd of men and women. I'm playing pretty good with passes and shots. A young Brian is playing in his basketball clothing. There is a circle of chairs around center court. There are people sitting in them. It's time for a break. Everyone's standing around. I notice a piano in the corner and sit down to do some playing, I'm playing the old Bb F C progression, but I'm grabbing wrong notes around the Bb. An unkempt man comes up. He sits down next to me and tells me I cant play. He closes the keyboard cover. At first I compy, agreeing the stop. Then I get a little mad and go " you smell like booze, have you been drinking?" He's unshaven, suit coat is wrinkled. Then I go "hey, what are you doing telling me not to play." We end up in the hallway. By this time, he's backing down and I'm loosing it. I'm up in his face. He's up against the wall.
I'm with an old girlfriend. She's recently married. Shows me the wedding ring. Her husband wants me to shovel cement. He's Hispanic. Hi gives me a shovel. I tell him he should hire Mexicans to shovel cement. He shows me a bunch of money, He doesnt speak English. He gets mad and gets a pistol. He's so mad he throws the gun at me. It bounces on the street, but barrel but barrel. I'm going it's gonna go off. A skateboard kid comes up. says this gun is from the gun store. I say dont touch it. I pick it up with the sleeve of my shirt. I go call 911. Call 911
I'm at a gathering in a modern building. I'm gonna play my guitar for the group but I dont have it. So I go get my guitar. One of the members of the group is Bill Gates, dresses n a very nice gray suite & yellow tie. He goes "I'm sick" and tries to put his head in the couch cushions he's sitting on. I got the get my guitar. My ammo boxes are strewn out all over the floor and the contents. I go get an acoustic guitar. The fret board fits my hand. I go back to the gathering. a pretty brunette shows me which room I'm in. I put my hand on her waist, lingering a longer than casual show has on a deep red silk dress. I get to the room.. It's a large convention area with lots of glass windows. My ammo boxes are put away and stacked in a pyramid. There's a large group gathered and a stage by the window