Thursday, October 13, 2005
Speedin' in the ER Dream Machine
By The Erudite Redneck
Who needs movies? Who needs fiction? My dreams the past few nights have been plumb wack (how's that for mixin' dialects?) If I ever do go all the way off the deep end, this post might give some clues if there is an investigation.
The fact that I remember these so well is disturbing in its itself. Interpretations appreciated.
Three nights ago:
I was at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum for a Western black-tie event dee-luxe. Only the best cowgirl fripperies and cowboy fineries were allowed in the joint:
100X beaver hats, silver and gold janglin' around ladies necks and fellas' chaps and vests and buckles, lawdy the belt buckles was as big as a Plymouth hubcap, circa 1972. It wasn't really "black tie" come to think of it: Just cowboy godawful gaudy. There was dancin' and drinkin' and carryin' on I was there but not there.
Somewhere near the Ronald Reagan statue -- people rub his toe for good luck just like they do the Will Rogers statue in Statuary Hall in the U.S. Capitol in D.C., which galls me -- there was a portal to an alternatuive reality, and I could go back and forth.
On the "other" side it was a whole different place. The mud and dust and noise of a feedlot or stockyards, with cattle bawling and real workin' cowboys doin' their thing. I was there, but not there, too. It was clear, in the dream, that what was goin' on on the workin' end of reality was pullin' strings to make things happen on the gaudy side.
Cattle moved from one pen to the other on the workin' side? Gaudied-up people would giddy-up and move in a group on or off the dance floor. Cowboy cuts open a sack of feed and pours it down an empty trough on the workin' side? Waiter brings a fresh tray of vittles out on the gaudy side. Nut cuttin' on the workin' side? Lady slaps the shit out of a drunk dude in silver and black wearin' a 10-gallon hat that's never seen the sun on the gaudy side.
And I'm just slippin' back and forth between the alternative realities, watchin'. Pretty much the weirdest dream I've had lately.
But wait! There's more!
Two nights ago:
I find myself on the ground, under a van. I don't know how I know it's a van, but it's a van, and I know it. Somebody starts the van and I start to scramble to get out from under it as he-she starts to drive away -- I freak out and holler and carry on and he-she stops -- but I'm stuck, with my head inches away from one of the tires and in its track.
I relax, but then the person starts driving again -- and suddenly I am seeing things from above and away, and there is a cartoon version of my body sticking out from under a cartoon van, and as my head pops like a dang cantaloupe, my cartoon body sticks out straight as a board with a "TWA-AA-AANG" like Wile E. Coyote's does from under a boulder.
But wait! There's more!
One night ago:
I'm in a junior high or high school classroom, leanin' against a line of low cabinets lined up underneath the windows. Somebody runs up and says, "ER! We got a breach calf out here. We need you to come pull it!"
(Note: I have never pulled a calf or been present for such. Beyond reachin' up in there and tryin' to find the head and tryin' to pull it out, I'm not sure what else you do.)
I say, "Somebody call (Bryon S.)!" He is a high school friend who I'm pretty sure has handled such before -- and if not, he would fake it better than me, for sure.
I start trottin' off toward said cow-calf dilemma and say, "Man, we need some of them big handkerchiefs, some bandannas," and I reach to my back pocket and there is a couple of blue ones, and I tie one around my face, mainly because that shit is fixing to get everywhere and I do have a weak stomach for body fluids of all kinds.
I get it tied and get there. I don't know whether Bryon is there or not, but I am in it up to my shoulders and the shit is flyin' and it gets on my glasses, which pisses me off and I wake up.
But wait! There's more!
Last night:
I'm walking across a wooden bridge over a creek. On one side of the creek is a young boy at a fence calling to some ... BEARS! Holy SHIT! There are BEARS in that pasture! I holler at the kid, "BEARS! BEARS! Stay away from those ... wait a minute, those aren't bears ... they're fricking buffalo calves. Never mind."
I need help. :-)
END
Who needs movies? Who needs fiction? My dreams the past few nights have been plumb wack (how's that for mixin' dialects?) If I ever do go all the way off the deep end, this post might give some clues if there is an investigation.
The fact that I remember these so well is disturbing in its itself. Interpretations appreciated.
Three nights ago:
I was at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum for a Western black-tie event dee-luxe. Only the best cowgirl fripperies and cowboy fineries were allowed in the joint:
100X beaver hats, silver and gold janglin' around ladies necks and fellas' chaps and vests and buckles, lawdy the belt buckles was as big as a Plymouth hubcap, circa 1972. It wasn't really "black tie" come to think of it: Just cowboy godawful gaudy. There was dancin' and drinkin' and carryin' on I was there but not there.
Somewhere near the Ronald Reagan statue -- people rub his toe for good luck just like they do the Will Rogers statue in Statuary Hall in the U.S. Capitol in D.C., which galls me -- there was a portal to an alternatuive reality, and I could go back and forth.
On the "other" side it was a whole different place. The mud and dust and noise of a feedlot or stockyards, with cattle bawling and real workin' cowboys doin' their thing. I was there, but not there, too. It was clear, in the dream, that what was goin' on on the workin' end of reality was pullin' strings to make things happen on the gaudy side.
Cattle moved from one pen to the other on the workin' side? Gaudied-up people would giddy-up and move in a group on or off the dance floor. Cowboy cuts open a sack of feed and pours it down an empty trough on the workin' side? Waiter brings a fresh tray of vittles out on the gaudy side. Nut cuttin' on the workin' side? Lady slaps the shit out of a drunk dude in silver and black wearin' a 10-gallon hat that's never seen the sun on the gaudy side.
And I'm just slippin' back and forth between the alternative realities, watchin'. Pretty much the weirdest dream I've had lately.
But wait! There's more!
Two nights ago:
I find myself on the ground, under a van. I don't know how I know it's a van, but it's a van, and I know it. Somebody starts the van and I start to scramble to get out from under it as he-she starts to drive away -- I freak out and holler and carry on and he-she stops -- but I'm stuck, with my head inches away from one of the tires and in its track.
I relax, but then the person starts driving again -- and suddenly I am seeing things from above and away, and there is a cartoon version of my body sticking out from under a cartoon van, and as my head pops like a dang cantaloupe, my cartoon body sticks out straight as a board with a "TWA-AA-AANG" like Wile E. Coyote's does from under a boulder.
But wait! There's more!
One night ago:
I'm in a junior high or high school classroom, leanin' against a line of low cabinets lined up underneath the windows. Somebody runs up and says, "ER! We got a breach calf out here. We need you to come pull it!"
(Note: I have never pulled a calf or been present for such. Beyond reachin' up in there and tryin' to find the head and tryin' to pull it out, I'm not sure what else you do.)
I say, "Somebody call (Bryon S.)!" He is a high school friend who I'm pretty sure has handled such before -- and if not, he would fake it better than me, for sure.
I start trottin' off toward said cow-calf dilemma and say, "Man, we need some of them big handkerchiefs, some bandannas," and I reach to my back pocket and there is a couple of blue ones, and I tie one around my face, mainly because that shit is fixing to get everywhere and I do have a weak stomach for body fluids of all kinds.
I get it tied and get there. I don't know whether Bryon is there or not, but I am in it up to my shoulders and the shit is flyin' and it gets on my glasses, which pisses me off and I wake up.
But wait! There's more!
Last night:
I'm walking across a wooden bridge over a creek. On one side of the creek is a young boy at a fence calling to some ... BEARS! Holy SHIT! There are BEARS in that pasture! I holler at the kid, "BEARS! BEARS! Stay away from those ... wait a minute, those aren't bears ... they're fricking buffalo calves. Never mind."
I need help. :-)
END
Comments:
<< Home
Man, you crazy.
I don't know what your dreams mean in your own little world, but I'm sitting here laughing with tears rolling down my face. What a truly odd collection of themes!
I do know you are remembering them because SOMETHING in that mess is symbolic and trying to teach you something. I could make some guesses about the shindig at the Cowboy Hall, but I am relieved you know the differences between "black tie" and "cowboy godawful gaudy." Nice touch with the alternative world -- maybe you should sign up for NaNoWriMo an pursue that!
I don't know what your dreams mean in your own little world, but I'm sitting here laughing with tears rolling down my face. What a truly odd collection of themes!
I do know you are remembering them because SOMETHING in that mess is symbolic and trying to teach you something. I could make some guesses about the shindig at the Cowboy Hall, but I am relieved you know the differences between "black tie" and "cowboy godawful gaudy." Nice touch with the alternative world -- maybe you should sign up for NaNoWriMo an pursue that!
Here's a cool website that might enlighten you a bit. It's an online dictionary of what different things can mean in dreams.
http://home.wanadoo.nl/vanvugt/dictionary.html
http://home.wanadoo.nl/vanvugt/dictionary.html
Note: I have never pulled a calf or been present for such.
(shaking head slowly) - With each revelation, I realize you are more erudite than redneck.
By the way - pull the legs, not the head.
(shaking head slowly) - With each revelation, I realize you are more erudite than redneck.
By the way - pull the legs, not the head.
OK, Trix, I have to disagree with you. These all have one theme:
ER, you need to strap up your boots and get your best Western hat and head home. Party with the town folk, which is identified in the high-faluten meetin' at the cowboy hall. Fer you and yourn, that'd be a buncha beers down by the river or some such thing. Go to church back home, where you can fancy up a touch.
And do some work with cattle, whether that's ridin' in the back of a pickup to drop off hay to the cows or "workin'" the bull calves.
Your psyche is telling you to get outta the city and into the rural, where church is the place you dressed up for, and cattle work is the cornerstone to making your livlihood
ER, you need to strap up your boots and get your best Western hat and head home. Party with the town folk, which is identified in the high-faluten meetin' at the cowboy hall. Fer you and yourn, that'd be a buncha beers down by the river or some such thing. Go to church back home, where you can fancy up a touch.
And do some work with cattle, whether that's ridin' in the back of a pickup to drop off hay to the cows or "workin'" the bull calves.
Your psyche is telling you to get outta the city and into the rural, where church is the place you dressed up for, and cattle work is the cornerstone to making your livlihood
MOre erudite than redneck. Indeed. Wait, I kean: You betcha!
Feet first. Got it. Having never done it, I think the best way to tell front feet from hind feet would be to find the head first, to find the shoulders. Maybe not. Note that I did holler for assistance!
And, here's a little erudite to go with yer redneck: http://ianrpubs.unl.edu/Beef/g539.htm
Howdy, Teditor. I am headin' east tomorrow, for a fact. Many beers will be had tomorrow night around a fire at the site of a good friend who is building his first house, in the woods at Long, Okla.-- which is about as far from the Panhandle as you can be and stgill be in Oklahoma! :-)
--ER
Feet first. Got it. Having never done it, I think the best way to tell front feet from hind feet would be to find the head first, to find the shoulders. Maybe not. Note that I did holler for assistance!
And, here's a little erudite to go with yer redneck: http://ianrpubs.unl.edu/Beef/g539.htm
Howdy, Teditor. I am headin' east tomorrow, for a fact. Many beers will be had tomorrow night around a fire at the site of a good friend who is building his first house, in the woods at Long, Okla.-- which is about as far from the Panhandle as you can be and stgill be in Oklahoma! :-)
--ER
And, since I have now pissed away yet another half-day when I shoulda been writing, I will now "pull" myself away from the blogosphere, and try to dive "feet first" into my project -- if I can keep my head straight.
BTW, Ice-T loves Wavy Lays. Thought y'all should know, since he's tiptoein' over the keyboard right now to get at some on my lunch plate.
-ER
BTW, Ice-T loves Wavy Lays. Thought y'all should know, since he's tiptoein' over the keyboard right now to get at some on my lunch plate.
-ER
If you can't get the calf out by just pulling on the legs, look around the barn wall for a small block and tackle. We had to use it several times when I lived over in Arcadia. Tie it to the legs and a post and pull. Some calves come out backwards. The block and tackle are the only way those critters get born. Hard on the cow? You bet. But not doing it, kills them both.
As for your dreams, maybe you need to adjust your meds. Not on any meds? Well get some!
As for your dreams, maybe you need to adjust your meds. Not on any meds? Well get some!
# posted by 
: 1:13 PM
: 1:13 PM
Hey Dr. Lobojo - Arcadia, FL?
I've used a come-along. If I ever get into the cattle bidness on my own, I'll get me a proper calf puller. I keep threatenin' my wife, but I haven't gone through with it yet. She keeps remindin' me of my last farming venture - 28 acres of watermelons, didn't harvest one. Not one. How was I to know we weren't goin' to get any rain that summer?
I've used a come-along. If I ever get into the cattle bidness on my own, I'll get me a proper calf puller. I keep threatenin' my wife, but I haven't gone through with it yet. She keeps remindin' me of my last farming venture - 28 acres of watermelons, didn't harvest one. Not one. How was I to know we weren't goin' to get any rain that summer?
Nope, it was Arcadia Oklahoma. Place is now under a reservoir. I rented an old farm house, and the guy I rented from ran the cattle. I watched over them and hayed them some for him and of course helped pull the calves when necessary.
My Uncle Rob, the last of the real cowboys, ran cattle down on the Red River. He taught me some of what he knew. When they cremated him after he died at 93, he was wearing his best boots and had his good Stetson laying on his chest. We took his ashes down to where the creek ran into the river and spread them out on the first 40 acres that he ever owned.
I also worked my best friends cattle with him all through high school, cutting, de-horning, emasculating with the rubber bands, branding, chasing strays and rolling in fresh shit when the calves didn't want their shots. (he didn't have squeeze chute)
Since those experiences, now 40 plus years ago, I have had great respect for real cowboys, and absolutely no, none, nada, nyet, desire to ever own cattle, or work them ever again.
And ER, what about the meds?
My Uncle Rob, the last of the real cowboys, ran cattle down on the Red River. He taught me some of what he knew. When they cremated him after he died at 93, he was wearing his best boots and had his good Stetson laying on his chest. We took his ashes down to where the creek ran into the river and spread them out on the first 40 acres that he ever owned.
I also worked my best friends cattle with him all through high school, cutting, de-horning, emasculating with the rubber bands, branding, chasing strays and rolling in fresh shit when the calves didn't want their shots. (he didn't have squeeze chute)
Since those experiences, now 40 plus years ago, I have had great respect for real cowboys, and absolutely no, none, nada, nyet, desire to ever own cattle, or work them ever again.
And ER, what about the meds?
# posted by : 3:05 PM
: 3:05 PM
Heck, ER, even I've been present for a calf pulling.
You might want to follow up on the suggestion to get yourself some meds. ;)
You might want to follow up on the suggestion to get yourself some meds. ;)
# posted by : 3:08 PM
: 3:08 PM
Frenzied, it's yer country girliness that makes yer prersonality! ;-)
Drlobojo, the only meds I'm on are nicotine gum, Walgreens maduros and Geo. Dickel whiskey.
--ER
Drlobojo, the only meds I'm on are nicotine gum, Walgreens maduros and Geo. Dickel whiskey.
--ER
My point exactly. You need Meds.
Let's jump back to the "Snores Like a Cow" posting of some weeks ago. Could it be that the ole brain is being deprived of O2 while your in one of those fits Dr. Er spoke about? Maybe some good old psychotropic meds would help. They make you feel better and boy if you forget to take them the dreams you have then are much wilder that the ones you reported.
Speaking of Meds, by the way, why did you use the term Speedin?
Let's jump back to the "Snores Like a Cow" posting of some weeks ago. Could it be that the ole brain is being deprived of O2 while your in one of those fits Dr. Er spoke about? Maybe some good old psychotropic meds would help. They make you feel better and boy if you forget to take them the dreams you have then are much wilder that the ones you reported.
Speaking of Meds, by the way, why did you use the term Speedin?
# posted by : 8:10 PM
: 8:10 PM
ER, I have been at a calf-pullin' myself.
It ain't pretty.
My uncle once had a cow who had a breach calf and it dern near turned her inside out. When the vet came over, he extracted the calf and then proceeded to put the parts of the cow that were outside back in, and the cow died of hypothermia.
The calf lived, though, and my cousins named him "Booger."
And in about two years, we had "Booger Burgers", and "Booger steaks", and "Roast Booger".
It was wierd.
If it makes you feel any better, I have been having weird, unexplainable dreams the last few nights as well.
I hope it's nothing to worry about...
It ain't pretty.
My uncle once had a cow who had a breach calf and it dern near turned her inside out. When the vet came over, he extracted the calf and then proceeded to put the parts of the cow that were outside back in, and the cow died of hypothermia.
The calf lived, though, and my cousins named him "Booger."
And in about two years, we had "Booger Burgers", and "Booger steaks", and "Roast Booger".
It was wierd.
If it makes you feel any better, I have been having weird, unexplainable dreams the last few nights as well.
I hope it's nothing to worry about...
Well, I said "speeding" because I had so many colorful, rememberable dreams in a row. ... Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm clinically depressed. Once again, I am faced with my own humanity.
I hit a peak last spring after I'd dinished my M.A. and got a few accolades for work I'd done. Then, after I tried to lop off a finger, got bitten by a spider and got distracted by the mundaness (sp?) of life, I looked around and realized that 1., my Bird was a freshman, now a sophomore, in college, 2., I was an empty-nester at 41, 3., my job is just that, a job, and 4., with the likelihood of continuing on for a Ph.D. very slim, I had nothing "big" to look forward to.
All I'm doin' is plodding along, waitin' for the pall to lift. I will take pills only as a last resort. And maybe I'm just being stubborn and stupid about that.
--ER
I hit a peak last spring after I'd dinished my M.A. and got a few accolades for work I'd done. Then, after I tried to lop off a finger, got bitten by a spider and got distracted by the mundaness (sp?) of life, I looked around and realized that 1., my Bird was a freshman, now a sophomore, in college, 2., I was an empty-nester at 41, 3., my job is just that, a job, and 4., with the likelihood of continuing on for a Ph.D. very slim, I had nothing "big" to look forward to.
All I'm doin' is plodding along, waitin' for the pall to lift. I will take pills only as a last resort. And maybe I'm just being stubborn and stupid about that.
--ER
And did you notice that I spelled "Wierd" two different ways in that last comment...
Guess I was right 50% of the time...
Guess I was right 50% of the time...
Well, ER, I am currently battling with the wife over whether or not I need to go on ADD medication...
She says yes, I say no.
I know that I have a pretty severe case, but I don't want to medicate it. Not yet.
I kinduv enjoy it...
She says yes, I say no.
I know that I have a pretty severe case, but I don't want to medicate it. Not yet.
I kinduv enjoy it...
I'm glad Rem pointed out that you pull the (front) legs on a calf, not the head. But you do have to find the head and trace down, to make sure it *is* the front legs you're pulling.
The first dream seems kinda obvious to me: you're thinking about moving between two worlds. Reagan is kind of a symbolic gatekeeper. Whether the worlds are wealth and poverty, fake or real, or what, I'll leave to you. Maybe they're both real.
The second dream is trickier: a sense of impending danger, which you almost avoid, but then not. But it's kind of funny, too, and you have some distance from it.
Dreams 3 and 4 are also about the distinction between reality and imposture. I think.
The first dream seems kinda obvious to me: you're thinking about moving between two worlds. Reagan is kind of a symbolic gatekeeper. Whether the worlds are wealth and poverty, fake or real, or what, I'll leave to you. Maybe they're both real.
The second dream is trickier: a sense of impending danger, which you almost avoid, but then not. But it's kind of funny, too, and you have some distance from it.
Dreams 3 and 4 are also about the distinction between reality and imposture. I think.
So long as we are practicing Psychology without credentials; I would take a long thought as to what that "Pulling of the calf out" ment. Maybe you are telling youself that you better get help to do something this hard. Or do you feel like someone has you by the neck and is trying to forcibly extract you from the peaceful womb in which you have been accustomed to living?
Maybe you need to take the blog back to chrstianity, the ACLU, Dobson, Creationism and those safe topics. This dream stuff could get too serious.
By the way do you want me to get you a "calf puller" for Christmas so you will have one on hand?
Maybe you need to take the blog back to chrstianity, the ACLU, Dobson, Creationism and those safe topics. This dream stuff could get too serious.
By the way do you want me to get you a "calf puller" for Christmas so you will have one on hand?
# posted by : 11:45 PM
: 11:45 PM
"Frenzied, it's yer country girliness that makes yer prersonality! ;-)"
Huh? ;)
Post a Comment
Huh? ;)
# posted by : 12:02 AM
: 12:02 AM << Home
