It’s Saturday, and it’s not early morning, but what the heck? Sabrina (the cocker spaniel, for new readers) woke me up at one o’clock in the morning while I was in the middle of one dream. In it I was walking in Indianapolis with my mother, grandmother, and wife, when we came across a service pit, the kind covered with grating that keeps one’s feet up but still allows a view into a twenty-foot pit. But this one had a three-foot-by-three-foot hole in the middle, and my grandmother was walking straight towards the hole. I told her to stop, but she insisted that she could step over it, took an eighteen-inch step, and plunged straight down. I ran to the edge of the hole to see her land on both feet, Matrix-style. She looked up and told me that the landing had hurt a little. So, being the dutiful grandson, I began to climb down, using the electrical conduits and water pipes as handholds. Then Sabrina bopped me in the face to let me know that the vast mass of kleenexes she had consumed yesterday had reached the digestive terminal.
In the second one, I was a student in a college classroom. The class turned to the presidential election, and people started spouting Republican slogans ranging from “Kerry is no leader” to “God wants Bush reelected.” From two seats behind me, I heard somebody say, “Shut up.” I turned around to see John Kerry sitting at a desk two seats behind me. I told him, “Don’t worry, John. I’ll vote for you.” He said, “Thanks, Nate.” Then Sabrina barked in my ear. Apparently she had found some more toilet paper, and it had found its way through.
No big thoughts today, but I’ll be back Monday with some more good stuff. Shoot, I might come back tomorrow.