I had a dream the night before last, or rather very early that morning, on Valentine's Day. It occurred maybe an hour or two before I awoke, and it wasn't long enough to really be considered a dream. It was more of an impulse, like a Mental Button that was pushed while I slept, similar to the movie triggers we've been talking about that make you think of something from the past.
It wasn't really a dream, because it lasted all of two seconds, and yet it happened during some level of sleep. I'm a light sleeper, so it's hard to discern the state of consciousness I'm in when I receive certain dreams and impulses. But when it came, boy did it wake me up. I wanted to get out of bed and turn on my computer right away, so I could write it down, but I didn't.
I knew I'd remember it, and I decided to go back to sleep because I'm no good for the day unless I have at least six hours. Seven is preferable, eight is the best (but rare), so I thought I'd shoot for seven and laid back down.
But I couldn't get back to sleep because I was thinking about that impulse. If you consider that word and take it literally, the prefix "im" is variable (and can mean "negation"), but "pulse" is obvious, and that's what the two-second dream felt like: a thought-image that was "pulsed" to me in a state of "sleep before wakefulness" (but still mostly sleep). And it was weird. It was like a Thought/Pulse/Quake. Lasting two seconds. An impulse that got sent to me, either by my subconscious (which is wide open these days), or by my higher self, or by God and/or my helpers.
But it woke me up, because it set off a light bulb, and this is what it was: I saw myself in a van. How I'd gotten there I did not know, but I felt I was in an altered state. I immediately thought of Shecky again (we mentioned him in the last blog), and in the waking part of my mind, I knew he once had a van. I thought, "This is Shecky's van, and I'm in it, and I'm in the front passenger bucket seat and I am looking out the windshield. I am "scanning" because the driver (Shecky) wants me to scan, because he says this is a game of "radio tag". And that's all I had to begin with. I thought I was in an altered state, like I'd been hypnotised yet again, and that the purpose for me being there, in the van, was to "scan" the street (side to side through the windshield) because Shecky, who was driving, said: "you're part robot, Ad". Then he went "hahahahaha" like he always did, because to Shecky, everything was a joke. Or at least most things. He was one of those guys who was always joking. As an aside, do you know anyone like that, who is always joking, never serious, and do you get tired of it because you know it's a front? Well anyhow, when I finally woke up and had my coffee, I knew what part of the day's work had to be: "Figure out that dream, asap." And I did. It took me about fifteen hours, but by 10 pm last night, I knew that it was a real occurrence and that I had gotten into Shecky's van voluntarily. I should mention that, at first, I thought I'd been "kidnapped", in the way that hypnotizers have "kidnapped" me in the past, but in this case I was thinking of friendly hypnotizers, not the violent kind, and I thought of Ann.
Ann had been part of the impulse, coming in at the tail end of the two seconds. If I had to put it into single words, the impulse consisted of "me, van, game, radio, tag, Shecky, windshield, Ann." Two seconds. And we were driving, somewhere near Pierce College, though Ann was not in the van. For some reason, Shecky remarked about her, which initially caused caused me to wonder: how would Shecky know Ann? It just didn't add up.
And yet it did add up, because it felt natural during the impulse. Considering this over coffee, I thought "Shecky and Ann are both in the impulse, and it feels natural that he mentioned her". And as always, I knew that my mind does not conjure. That's a saying I have about myself: "My mind does not conjure", which is not to say it doesn't produce abstract imagery now and then, but I can tell when the imagery is natural (meaning that it represents Something That Really Happened) and, in the case of Shecky mentioning Ann, I knew, while I was still half-asleep, that it came from a real occurrence. I knew that he really had mentioned her. And I thought, "well, I don't know how Shecky knows Ann. And in fact, he says he's never met her. But he knows, at the very least, who she is", which meant I was onto something.
By 6 pm last evening, I knew I'd been in a van with Shecky and a guy named Les, who was renting a room from him at the time. I guessed the date to be Christmas 1989 (later amended to possibly be Christmas 1990). And I saw myself riding in Shecky's van, and I was very stoned on pot (in retrospect the most dangerous drug for yours truly, and possibly for the world. Don't smoke pot, folks). And I thought that was why, when I initially felt the impulse, that I was in an altered state in the van. It wasn't because I was hypnotized, but because I was very stoned. Anyone who knew Shecky, knows that he would almost insist you smoke pot when he offered, and I admit I almost never turned him down.
But Shecky had gotten me into his van on false pretenses. We were supposed to "ride around" and "listen to music." I think he called me up and said he just wanted to "hang out" on Christmas Eve (or Christmas night), and because I was home by myself I said okay. But now, we were driving down by Pierce College and we were playing something Shecky called "radio tag", and I didn't know what that was. Les, his roommate, was now getting pissed at Sheck. Les had some kind of electronic device in his lap, which looked like a remote control, only bigger. Actually, it looked more like a transmitter, about the size of a small radio, and it had an antenna and dials. And Les was supposed to be "homing in" on whatever car we were trying to locate. Sheck was now cluing me in on the game, saying we were "playing hide and seek" with another car. "It's like a treasure hunt, Ad. And the treasure for you is......." He mentioned someone by name, and when he did, I knew how he knew Ann.
Les was really angry now, in the back of the van, holding the radio device in his lap. Shecky said, "I'm sick of your bitching, Les! Either stop bitching or get the fuck out." But Les did not get out because he didn't want to walk home from Woodland Hills (or wherever we were), and yet he kept bitching at Sheck, because he thought what they were doing was wrong.
There's a lot more to this story that I'll leave out for now, and a lot that I still don't know (but of course I will figure it out). But what happened was that Shecky and Les eventually "located" the car we were "tracking" in this game of "radio tag". All I knew was that I'd gotten in his van after he offered to come get me on Christmas Eve (when I was home alone and bored) in order to, in his words, "drive around, get stoned and listen to some music" just for something to do. I didn't know anything about "radio tag", didn't know what it was, nor that I was going to be the object of a very mean-spirited prank that night, one which sent me home crying. That was why Les (Shecky's roommate) was so upset in the back of the van. He knew it was going to be a prank, or turn out bad, and he thought it was very uncool because it was intended to play on my feelings.
This is not to say it began as a prank. That's the part I still don't know. Dennis was there, you can ask him. He was in one of the other cars that we "tagged". Those cars pulled over, and Dennis was trying to act as a "mediator" but was not successful. Les was really angry at him.
This really happened, and so far, I have the date as either Christmas Eve or Christmas night 1989, or 1990. I think it is definitely one of those two years (and I am now leaning toward 1990), and I am still open to it being another holiday, like New Year's Eve or even Halloween, but I think it was Christmas Eve or Christmas night.
And certain people were in the other cars that we "tagged", or whatever the hell Shecky and Les were doing, whatever this game was, and whatever Les was doing with that electronic device in his lap. He was furious by the time we pulled over. In his own words, he was ready to "punch someone in the face" that night.
I briefly knew Les. I had Thanksgiving dinner with him and Sheck, at Sheck's house, on that holiday in 1989. Les was a very serious guy, about my age, who was a recovering alcoholic. He was also on probation for domestic violence, but was trying to get his life together. He smoked a lot of pot like Sheck did, but he didn't drink (neither did I at the time), and he wanted to complete his probation and be out of trouble. And he felt Shecky was manufacturing trouble by tricking me into this game of "radio tag". But perhaps it wasn't supposed to be a trick. Maybe the outcome was supposed to be nice. I didn't know Ann that well myself, but on the few occasions I met her she seemed very nice, and not like a lady who would prank me, especially in such a mean-spirited way as this night turned out.
Les got so angry with Shecky, that on the way back to my house, he threw his share of the money they'd been paid at him. "I don't want this fuckin' money!" Sheck was beside himself with apologies, because the night had gone so wrong. "I'm really sorry, Ad". I still didn't know exactly what had happened, nor why. I didn't know what the intention had been. And because I didn't remember it for over 30 years, I don't know if it was supposed to be a prank or not, but on that night it felt like one, and it hurt. It hurt even more because it was Christmas Eve.
I think I even said, to the people in one of the cars, "don't you guys have anything better to do, on Christmas Eve, than hurt my feelings?"
Shecky wanted to give me all the money he and Les were paid (fifty bucks), as "compensation" for the night gone wrong. I didn't want that money and said "no thanks", and "no" to the pot he offered in the bargain. Les even said, "don't take it, Adam. It'll justify what they did to you." I didn't say much as we drove to my house. When we got there, I took the cassette tapes I'd brought (because the plan had been, as I was told, to "listen to music") and I got out of Shecky's van. Then I went into my house, and sat in my bedroom with Alice my dog, and I cried.
And I wondered how people could be so mean.
Now, well over thirty years later, I'm amazed at the power of my memory, and that I could bring back that incident well enough to verify that it happened, with only a two-second impulse to go by.
And I have so many other things to work on.
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