February 19, 2009

Dreams

If there were some way to record the litany of my dreams and turn them into written word, they would make both terrifying and exciting books.

Some nights, I have these amazing travel dreams that leave me faintly believing that I have enjoyed the adventures that I have only been able to dream of in my life. I confess that I have always harbored a jealousy for people who travel. They trot the globe, yet there are some who don't seem to be able to truly enjoy the experiences they have been given. It's as if they are so jaded by their international experiences that nothing is able to reach them anymore. They feel they have 'seen it all'.

In my dreams, I am able to go to the places that are remote and spend time getting to know and understand the customs, culture and practices of the regular people who are off the beaten path of tourism. The people who live quiet lives of day to day struggle are the most interesting anyway because they don't depend upon tourism to fill their pockets. While I want to know about the tourist type visit, I don't want to confine myself by believing that a bus trip through Amsterdam gives me any understanding whatsoever of what it means to be a resident.

Also, I have no desire to make the youthful error of believing that shouting English imparts understanding. I'd like to hire local people to take me places and pay them to translate for me and help me learn the words of their language. I want to shop where they shop and eat what they eat, within reason, and work my way around the globe from place to place meeting the brothers and sisters whom I forgot I know.

Then, there are other dreams. They are not pleasant. They are the fears of life combined with the horrors of our reality in a world where power and money mean more than peace and goodwill.

I run from danger or battle it with superior skills. I hide in corners protecting the helpless with my own body or I stand boldly before the barrels of their guns. My dreams show the horrors I have never experienced in a way that leaves me breathless and frightened. Sometimes, I have awakened in tears screaming for help that will never come.

The intensity of these dreams is such that they don't fade easily and like the knife wound in the flesh, they can leave a scar, albeit emotionally.

I have dreamed of doing things that I hope I will never even attempt. I have awakened from dreams in a cold sweat gasping for air. On ocassion, I have had dreams that I can't fully remember, but which leave me with unease and fear so great that only prayer and priesthood blessings can abolish the pain.

What I haven't yet figured out is where the rich fodder for all of the dreams, for good or ill, comes from in my though processes. Or if thinking is even part of the process.

Sometimes, things I have read in the newspaper or seen online or on TV feature prominently in my dreams unbidden.

Rare are the times when I dream and DON'T remember them. Generally, I have more than one dream a night and they are usually different in context, events and feeling.

Is this nocturnal ADD-ADHD?

There may not be an answer to that question.

All that I am sure of is that every night will be another showing on the movie screen in my head. The only problem is that I buy a ticket but never get to see the preview of any coming attractions to know what to watch and what I might be able to avoid.

Sweet dreams...

February 16, 2009

Money, money, money, money - MONEY!

Loot. Cash. Bucks. Greenbacks. Gelt. Long green. Moolah. Dough. C-note. Dollar. Smackers. Clams. Dead presidents. Benjamins. Fin. Sawbuck.

Trillion.

Does any of this make sense to you?

My checkbook maintains a small balance after shopping days. Generally enough for the milk, bread and eggs we need in the 'off week' from the regular trip. We only get groceries twice a month.

Our needs are met and most of our wants.

But there are some who have more than a passing familiarity with the terms above, however, the meaning and sense of the words is in a different dictionary than in mine.

Back when I was a wee small gnat of a child, my parents taught me that if you didn't have the money to buy something, you did without it. Period.

Naturally, buying a car or house required the faith and trust of a loan from a reputable bank who took into consideration that you were not eligible to finance a Bugatti on a bologna budget. Nor would they float you a loan on your pipe dream of the mansion on a hill when you were still living in your mother's basement apartment for free.

It seems the rules are different now.

If you belong to the 'right crowd', you can get a house with no visible means of support because you are 'entitled' to have one. Nevermind that the bank will be compelled to give loans to the risky and unable. When they fold up and take all the deposits with it or get bought out, you can refinance and keep the house, right?

Apparently for some, that's the way the game is played.

I remember early in my married life, we were struggling college students and newlyweds trying to put something besides Beanie Weenies on the table. And sometimes, the bills were paid later than the creditors wanted - but the point is they DID get paid.

The funny thing is, when we were just a couple of DAYS past our due date, the kind people who expected and deserved payment for goods and services we had received began to call to check on our health and welfare. And they kept calling until the check was in their hands. They didn't care if we were eating oatmeal sandwiches three meals a day and sleeping under the Route 6 overpass. They wanted their money. And sometimes, they weren't nice about asking for the money to be sent in.

Now, we have the same people who not only guarded the henhouse but snarfed down the original flock of chickens asking us to trust them with our money, uh, chickens, once again.

I don't mind the head cheeses making money. They deserve an omlete or two for the work they do. But when they allow stupid decisions and political manipulations for cash to bring the world to its knees, they don't deserve even a sack of dry and crusty eggshells.

Now we are discovering that the appointees to the president's cabinet don't know how to pay their taxes, balance their checkbooks or buy their own postage and airline tickets.

I am sick of seeing their 'fact finding missions' to tropical climates. What facts are they trying to find? How long the paper umbrella will last in their coconut cups?

We don't need bailouts. We need pullouts. We need the decent people who have elected representatives who no longer serve our needs to pull them out of office. Forever. They shouldn't be eligible for the position of local dog catcher. Even wild dogs deserve better.

According to the latest numbers, the bailout will bring 8 dollars a month into your home when it finally trickles down to us... you remember... WE the people. Apparently, we the people can move mountains with 8 bucks.

Have fun spending your extra loot.

We may save ours. In the form of ammo. I have the feeling we might need it...