As I woke up after the dream I even had the title for the resulting blog all picked out. Too bad I fell back to sleep before getting a chance to write it down. It was a good title. You would have loved it.
David Duchovny was in the dream. He plays a character named Hank Moody on the awesome show “Californication”, and I think that’s the character he was playing in the dream. (Ok before we go any further I want to go completely on record here. I’m straight. As straight as an arrow. Straighter than your redneck farmer, the one with the double barrel shotgun, and the gorgeous daughter. Straighter than a shot of Johnny Walker. Not a gay bone in my body. The only bone that was ever near my mouth was a spare rib. Barbequed and delicious. Hell I don’t even eat bananas. What would the neighbours think? So the fact that I dreamt about David Duchovny means nothing sexually. Ok? Got it? Can we carry on now? Good.)
I think he was playing a piano or something. And singing. And I believe the music was a tango. I’ve never heard of anyone putting lyrics to a tango but then, I don’t get out much. Anyway, he had created this piece of music and had just finished when I walked up.
“That’s pretty good.”
He looked at me. “Makes you want to do me, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t even smile. “Yeah, not that good.”
He snickered. “Let’s go.”
With that, he got up from the piano and we headed outside to his car. He threw me the keys. “You drive.”
I got in.
I forgot where we drove, frankly. It was a long drive, that’s what I remember. We talked about a lot of things. (Man, I *wish* I’d written it all down as soon as I woke up). I’m guessing the topic of women was in there. I’ve yet to be with a buddy where that topic didn’t come up. It seems to be the one subject that we all have in common, the one item of interest that will capture our attention. Makes sense, when you think about it. If it’s true that we think about sex every seven seconds. I’m not sure it’s true, but I do know we think about it. A lot.
During the drive I noticed that his brakes were pretty spongy, and that I had to pretty much stand on the brake pedal before it would come to a complete stop. We pulled into a crowded parking lot, and I managed to find a spot and park without hitting anything. I remember feeling relieved.
After I turned the car off, we just sat there, still talking. The subject got around to what’s important in life.
“I love my car” he said. “I love everything about it. The way it shines, the curves, the sound of the engine when I’m leaving some other motherfucker in the dust behind me.”
I didn’t share his love for his car. Not a bit. The thing would go all right. It just didn’t care too much for stopping. When it did stop, it did so reluctantly, and you could feel the engine wanting to pull away.
We sat there quietly, lost in thought. I considered everything. I thought about my family, my friends, my music. Didn’t even give one thought to my job though.
“Music”, I said.
“What about music?”
I thought for a second. “If I lost the use of my arms and legs, and if I couldn’t see or hear, I’d still have music” I pointed to my head. “That’s the one thing I couldn’t live without.”
He nodded. I didn’t need to elaborate. We both knew exactly what I was talking about.
I considered some of the dates I’ve been on recently. Some people will tell you that if their date doesn’t like dogs, or cats, then they know they haven’t found a match. I suppose I think the same way too. But one of my dates (a year ago) also said she doesn’t listen to music. She could take it or leave it. I realized then that we would probably not get along too well. Music is too much a vital part of the core of who I am. It’s like a language that I use to converse with people, with my environment. I’m always looking around to add to my music vocabulary. Take music away and I feel like I’ve lost a limb.
Yeah. Gotta love music if you’re going to play with me.
Duchovny looked over me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Swallowing nervously, I started the car up and looked around carefully before attempting to back out of the crowded parking spot. I have no idea why we even parked there in the first place if we had no intention of leaving the car. As we backed out, I heard the slightest sound of metal on metal. I glanced at him and then looked back, trying to find an opening.
I remember finally seeing the opening and putting the car back into drive again and moving out of the parking lot. I wondered if he would want us to stop so we could survey the damage.
Fortunately, it was just then that I woke up.
View from a Wolf 