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As I said bye-bye to my family members today, and told each one that I loved her, the train approaching the Agawam River crossing blew its whistle, and it occurred to me for the dozenth time that it sounds like the first chord of Barber's Adagio. Off they went in the thawing morning. I waved, then ducked into the street to properly dispose of a Sky Bar wrapper that could have come from our trash barrel.
The morning had started with the last dream of the night. This one was, in my discerning opinion, full of baggage from my years in theater. It was a performance of Sleeping Beauty [one of Sarah's current movies, and a show I did with a community group -- and a longtime favorite director -- in the late 70s] on the stage of Poudre High School [best drama department up until I got into shows at CNU] with cast and crew from CNU [ibid]. I was not in the cast, but I was an audience member sitting on stage [there were audiences on stage in shows at CNU, Poudre, and a community production I was in on the Poudre stage]. The Sleeping Beauty herself was on a bed at the back of the house, and I was impressed that she could lie there in character for so long without falling asleep [a cast member of a CNU show once told me this was very hard to do].
At one point, cast members came up on the stage and interacted with audience members, and I realized I was wearing a veil. The CNU friend who approached me didn't seem quite sure who I was and asked me, in character, to speak my name, then brought me into the Act I finale. I froze in an appropriate attitude, and was disappointed to see that the curtain was already down. How long had it been down? A tech friend said, "I bet you dreamed of that moment, eh?" [Pretty ironic, eh kids?] "I did, actually," I said, referring to a dream I just then dreamt I had had, "I dreamed of this very show; probably while it was in rehearsal."
Someone called "sixteen minutes" [Thank you, sixteen!]. I needed a drink. Things had been reshuffled backstage, but I found a fountain. The handle was gone, but I knew how to make it work. I gulped down the surprisingly unsatisfying water, then saw a Band teacher [who most resembled the jazz improv teacher I audited a class with in Georgia] going through some LPs and 78s. After puzzling over the title of one [Bennett Cerf? What did he have to do with classical music?] I saw he was putting them in the trash. "Those going out?" I asked. "Be my guest," he said. I knew if I waited, the records would be buried under trash. It was almost time for the next act. I dithered a little, and saw there was also a ton of View-Masters in there.
I picked up the pile and glided back to my seat. Something was happening with an Evil Sleeping Beauty who had replaced the good one. But what really mattered was my glaring faux pas: I was visible to the audience! Shame! Possibly I had to get back to my seat because my regular clothes were there -- I seemed to be wearing a dress now. My bedside alarm went off, sparing me from further unprofessional behavior. Perfidious (and off-model) View-Masters, to tempt me thus! How can I face my friends in the next dream? All wake up! O, the embarrasment!
Notes: Allusions are made to community theatre [1971-80 and 1995-2000], high school theatre [1972-5] and college theatre [2000-3]. Methinks the fellow would like to be acting again, verily and forsooth. View-Masters: in my younger days, I'd dream I saw a coin on the ground and pick it up, then another, and another, and another... and I'd realize that this had to be another darn dream. Nowadays, this happens with View-Master reels -- usually I'm looking at freebie stuff and I'll see a reel or two, then another, and another, and another... only I'm not yet to the point where I realize it's a dream. Wotta sucker!
.
As I said bye-bye to my family members today, and told each one that I loved her, the train approaching the Agawam River crossing blew its whistle, and it occurred to me for the dozenth time that it sounds like the first chord of Barber's Adagio. Off they went in the thawing morning. I waved, then ducked into the street to properly dispose of a Sky Bar wrapper that could have come from our trash barrel.
The morning had started with the last dream of the night. This one was, in my discerning opinion, full of baggage from my years in theater. It was a performance of Sleeping Beauty [one of Sarah's current movies, and a show I did with a community group -- and a longtime favorite director -- in the late 70s] on the stage of Poudre High School [best drama department up until I got into shows at CNU] with cast and crew from CNU [ibid]. I was not in the cast, but I was an audience member sitting on stage [there were audiences on stage in shows at CNU, Poudre, and a community production I was in on the Poudre stage]. The Sleeping Beauty herself was on a bed at the back of the house, and I was impressed that she could lie there in character for so long without falling asleep [a cast member of a CNU show once told me this was very hard to do].
At one point, cast members came up on the stage and interacted with audience members, and I realized I was wearing a veil. The CNU friend who approached me didn't seem quite sure who I was and asked me, in character, to speak my name, then brought me into the Act I finale. I froze in an appropriate attitude, and was disappointed to see that the curtain was already down. How long had it been down? A tech friend said, "I bet you dreamed of that moment, eh?" [Pretty ironic, eh kids?] "I did, actually," I said, referring to a dream I just then dreamt I had had, "I dreamed of this very show; probably while it was in rehearsal."
Someone called "sixteen minutes" [Thank you, sixteen!]. I needed a drink. Things had been reshuffled backstage, but I found a fountain. The handle was gone, but I knew how to make it work. I gulped down the surprisingly unsatisfying water, then saw a Band teacher [who most resembled the jazz improv teacher I audited a class with in Georgia] going through some LPs and 78s. After puzzling over the title of one [Bennett Cerf? What did he have to do with classical music?] I saw he was putting them in the trash. "Those going out?" I asked. "Be my guest," he said. I knew if I waited, the records would be buried under trash. It was almost time for the next act. I dithered a little, and saw there was also a ton of View-Masters in there.
I picked up the pile and glided back to my seat. Something was happening with an Evil Sleeping Beauty who had replaced the good one. But what really mattered was my glaring faux pas: I was visible to the audience! Shame! Possibly I had to get back to my seat because my regular clothes were there -- I seemed to be wearing a dress now. My bedside alarm went off, sparing me from further unprofessional behavior. Perfidious (and off-model) View-Masters, to tempt me thus! How can I face my friends in the next dream? All wake up! O, the embarrasment!
Notes: Allusions are made to community theatre [1971-80 and 1995-2000], high school theatre [1972-5] and college theatre [2000-3]. Methinks the fellow would like to be acting again, verily and forsooth. View-Masters: in my younger days, I'd dream I saw a coin on the ground and pick it up, then another, and another, and another... and I'd realize that this had to be another darn dream. Nowadays, this happens with View-Master reels -- usually I'm looking at freebie stuff and I'll see a reel or two, then another, and another, and another... only I'm not yet to the point where I realize it's a dream. Wotta sucker!
.
