Well, I know what this one means.
Thursday, 21 January 2016 06:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59"My Word! Are There Important People Downstairs?"*
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The other night, I dreamed I was at a big, ritzy party with a friend. I don't know who this friend was, but we were friends from Starsky & Hutch, and we hadn't seen each other for a long time. It was all in black & white.
The party was in a shopping mall, and it was for a politician I didn't know, and I wasn't sure why I was there. But it was a nice party and I was having a good time talking to my friend.
We were standing by the elevator, waiting to go down, and I suddenly remembered that the last time I had been in Baltimore (which was where we were, apparently), it was for a movie. "Do you remember the last time I was here?" I asked, rather giddy. "It was when I flew in to see that movie."
In fact, I had done that twice, I had flown to Baltimore to see a couple of Paul Newman movies. (Evidently I'm a madcap in my dreams, getting on planes on the spur of the moment to fly across the country to see a movie I could easily check out of the library.)
That was when I noticed that Paul Newman was at the party, and would be sitting next to me at the movie that was to follow. (I don't know how I noticed that second part.) I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him, maybe to tell him I fly across the country just to see his movies, I don't know. But instead I found myself in conversation with a director. I knew that I knew who he was, but I couldn't remember his name. He kept talking to me, and I kept hoping he'd either keep talking or go away before I had to introduce him, or call him by name. I told him about the flying across the country thing, and I said it loud in hopes that Paul Newman would hear me.
The elevator arrived and we wanted to go down, but my friend had to climb over the counter (don't ask me why, or what counter, I don't know) and she couldn't do it. I was trying to help her, but I just kept thinking that it was just like when Pat and I would get on an elevator and she had to climb over a counter first and couldn't. (Yeah, this comes up all the time.)
I needed to leave to catch a plane because I had just realized that the movie conflicted with something I had to do at home. I kept trying to work out a way I could stay, figuring the time difference, but since I live in Indianapolis, and there isn't any time difference between Indianapolis and Baltimore, it really wasn't working out. I got on a plane and it became a movie animation of a plane flying cross-country. And then I woke up.
I know why Paul Newman and flying across country to see his movies. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is going to be at AMC next week, and I would like to see it on the big screen again. But would I like it enough to brave my anxiety and drive to either the north or south sides of town? It will depend a lot on the weather. The politician part is just all the politics going on right now. It was in b&w because of a documentary I just watched on Orson Welles, and somebody talking about how much better everybody looked in b&w, how glamorous. I don't know about the rest of it.
*Nick Potter
-:- -:- -:- -:-
The other night, I dreamed I was at a big, ritzy party with a friend. I don't know who this friend was, but we were friends from Starsky & Hutch, and we hadn't seen each other for a long time. It was all in black & white.
The party was in a shopping mall, and it was for a politician I didn't know, and I wasn't sure why I was there. But it was a nice party and I was having a good time talking to my friend.
We were standing by the elevator, waiting to go down, and I suddenly remembered that the last time I had been in Baltimore (which was where we were, apparently), it was for a movie. "Do you remember the last time I was here?" I asked, rather giddy. "It was when I flew in to see that movie."
In fact, I had done that twice, I had flown to Baltimore to see a couple of Paul Newman movies. (Evidently I'm a madcap in my dreams, getting on planes on the spur of the moment to fly across the country to see a movie I could easily check out of the library.)
That was when I noticed that Paul Newman was at the party, and would be sitting next to me at the movie that was to follow. (I don't know how I noticed that second part.) I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him, maybe to tell him I fly across the country just to see his movies, I don't know. But instead I found myself in conversation with a director. I knew that I knew who he was, but I couldn't remember his name. He kept talking to me, and I kept hoping he'd either keep talking or go away before I had to introduce him, or call him by name. I told him about the flying across the country thing, and I said it loud in hopes that Paul Newman would hear me.
The elevator arrived and we wanted to go down, but my friend had to climb over the counter (don't ask me why, or what counter, I don't know) and she couldn't do it. I was trying to help her, but I just kept thinking that it was just like when Pat and I would get on an elevator and she had to climb over a counter first and couldn't. (Yeah, this comes up all the time.)
I needed to leave to catch a plane because I had just realized that the movie conflicted with something I had to do at home. I kept trying to work out a way I could stay, figuring the time difference, but since I live in Indianapolis, and there isn't any time difference between Indianapolis and Baltimore, it really wasn't working out. I got on a plane and it became a movie animation of a plane flying cross-country. And then I woke up.
I know why Paul Newman and flying across country to see his movies. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is going to be at AMC next week, and I would like to see it on the big screen again. But would I like it enough to brave my anxiety and drive to either the north or south sides of town? It will depend a lot on the weather. The politician part is just all the politics going on right now. It was in b&w because of a documentary I just watched on Orson Welles, and somebody talking about how much better everybody looked in b&w, how glamorous. I don't know about the rest of it.
*Nick Potter