PASTA DREAM
Posted by Erik Frey Fri, 15 Nov 2002 06:49:00 GMT
the night before last, i had a dream that seems filled with symbolism, but hell if i know what it means:
dining-room table. a 5-year old me is sitting at the head of the table, with a hot bowl of pasta in front of him. he’s dressed like a news-boy, complete with floppy cap.
complete. replete. there’s a town named replete in west virginia. the zip code is 26222.
back to my dream.
the bowl of pasta is untouched. i’m sitting at the other end of the table, and i ask him why he hasn’t started to eat yet.
“because it’s not ready yet,” replies a voice from the kitchen. i look over and see a 45-year old me standing over the stove. he’s watching a great big cauldron of pasta in boiling water. he’s wearing a clean white wife-beater and off-white hemp pants, and sandles. he has curly hair, which seems strange to me in retrospect, and he has a thin mustache, but there’s no doubt that he’s me. you just know these things in dreams.
and then there’s some kind of strange exchange between the young me and old me that i don’t quite remember. something like, the old me in the kitchen complaining that all this cooking is making him hungry, saying to the young me, “hey, how about you bring me some of that pasta.”
the young me looking down at his bowl full of steaming hot pasta on the table and saying “i can’t – it’s not ready yet”
the old me looking down into the cauldron of pasta still being cooked and muttering “oh, right then.” in a sort of resigned way.
i don’t get it.
and last night i had a dream that i was trying to put on deoderant and it kept melting and smearing all over the place.
we’re having a cookout today. $4 for burger, chips, and a drink. you are all invited.