Recurring Dreams

Dreams have always fascinated me. In the field of psychology, various schools of thought attach varying degrees of importance to them. Personally, I think the person having the dream is the best interpreter of the dream. I also do not ascribe a lot of weight to them beyond their basic meaning. In other words, I do not have a dream and let it trump careful decision making while awake. Sometimes a dream is a kick in the pants or even a reminder of some sort.



I have a recurring dream theme. The circumstances change, but the basic elements are there. Here is a typical scenario. I am in high school and suddenly realize I have not been attending a class, usually a math class. I feel the dread and panic welling up in my chest. My thoughts are, "Oh know, now I won't be able to graduate." The rest of the dream is spent looking for the class and maybe even talking to the teacher. I rehearse excuses and contemplate contingencies. When I awake, I feel so relieved.



OK, here is how I interpret this. I did not attend my high school graduation. Because I finished early I did not have to, so I did not. Maybe the fact the dream takes place in high school has something to do with it. The math part may have to do with me only taking basic math in college. I did not go beyond the quadratic equation. Math inadequacy no doubt. But the biggest thing is I never completed my doctorate. I did the course work, the qualifying exam, had my project approved, but never finished. Finally, I quit. This fact still generates lousy feelings if I think about it enough. I will not go into why I quit, but the basic reason was I had a family and a job and kept procrastinating.



I wonder why I can't have a recurring dream involving intimacy - if you know what I mean, wink. I guess it is a good thing I do not have those dreams regularly or I would spend a lot more time sleeping.



Sometimes if I have a really strange dream, I may do a google search and see what some of the dream sites say about the symbol. For example, flying or teeth falling out. I would recommend reading three or four different sites then average the responses. No one really knows what this stuff means and dream interpretation is not far removed from reading tea leaves.



Do you have any recurring dreams?



Dream Facts & Tidbits

Dream FAQ's

Sexual / Erotic Dreams This site lists sexual dreams and you can even give a shot at interpreting them.



Until the next time

John Strain

Buzzed

I go to this little old fashioned barber shop. The barber's name is Ray. Ray has been cutting hair for nearly 50 years. His wife used to work there too, but sickness has her sidelined. This shop sports several amenities which appeal to me and I have remained a faithful customer. Number one is cost. Because Ray gives you a haircut and not a "style" he only charges $7 and that is up from the $6 he charged for years. He does not tell you to get his shampoo, conditioner, spray, gel, etc. - only does the haircut. Then there is the time factor. A haircut at Ray's takes about 5 minutes and that's if you have to wait for three people in front of you. He is like a Samurai with the clippers, scissors, and comb. A haircut there feels like being inside a funnel cloud, but when the powdered brush comes out to whisk off your neck, every hair is in place and Ray gets an approving nod. If you watched the mini series "The Thorn Birds", you may remember a sheep shearing contest. Ray could have won that thing one-handed.



The shop is small. It is a one small room with a back area for a rest room and storage. The two black vinyl and chrome chairs face the big picture window so cars and passersby are the view. Eight black vinyl chairs with chrome arm rests face the two barber chairs and they usually have a well read newspaper or a dog eared magazine sitting on two or three of them. One other chair often holds the hat or jacket of whoever is in the barber chair. Etiquette dictates you do not touch the hat or jacket. If possible leave an empty chair between you and the hat / jacket. I leafed through the March 03 edition of Popular Mechanics while I waited my 2 minutes for my turn. I did not have enough time to see which router the editors recommended in the article I started reading. The lighting in the shop is fluorescent. The fixtures are not recessed, just there with their exposed glowing tubes of light. The floor is an old speckled tile and the paint is a drab brown. Ray indulges his more vain customers with two large mirrors, frameless, affixed to the wall. Behind the barber chairs is a shelf and a sink for shampoos. I have never seen the sink used. A couple of documents are thumb tacked to the wall, I assume are his barber's license and occupational license. An old radio / TV combo plays the local country station in that unmistakable tinny, nostalgic tone. In many ways, stepping into Ray's shop is like stepping back in time. It would not be out of place if the news reports on the radio talked about the Viet Nam War or Korea.



There is something very comfortable about Ray's place. Many of the men who go there are older. Some are assisted by their sons, who are middle aged themselves. It is a place where I am comfortable. Conversations are short, usually about the weather or sports. Folks usually converse agreeingly. I cannot recall an argument in there. Ray cuts the hair too fast and keeps folks rotating, which does not leave time for talks to turn ugly.



So I sit in the chair like I have many times before. Only this time I said to Ray," I want to do something different, I want to cut it all off, not shaved, but a close cut, crew cut, whatever you call it." The whole time I was talking, Ray was looking at me like I was asking him to give me a lobotomy. He came around to the front of the chair and touched my arm, "are you sure." I responded quickly, "yes," but the confidence was draining out of me. Did Ray know something I did not know? Was I making a terrible mistake? "I have thought about it and this is what I want to do," I continued, confidence still draining. I could feel my ears turning red. There was a customer eves dropping on the conversation and I imagined him laughing to himself. Ray said, "OK, if that's what you want." The way he said it is how my mother would say yes when she really thought otherwise. I remained strong and before I knew it, I was experiencing what many young men must have felt entering the armed services, prisoners entering jail, and Sinead O'connor every couple of weeks. The hair was falling in my face, my lap, all around me. It seemed like a lot, but when the buzzing of the clippers stopped and the chair was twirled - I was pleased.



My son drove me to the shop. He laughed at first, but said he liked it and that has been the consensus so far. The added advantage is I will be more aerodynamic so I am expecting a speed gain on the morning runs.



That pretty well highlighted my Saturday. I did not get the run in due to the rain, but after I post this entry today, I am headed out.



Enjoy your Sunday



Until the next time

John Strain

Quickie

If this were Becky's blog, that title would draw the readers to the screen like starving kids looking into a candy store. Since it is my blog, however, it only means this post is written in a hurry. Speaking of Becky, it is killing me as a little brother not to fill in a few blanks on her romance novel, but if I do, she too possess the power of the pen and would, no doubt, fill in a few of the blanks I have left. It would amount to trading queens in chess, ha.



It is raining this morning. No big deal, except I have that 16 mile training run scheduled. It has to get done so I will have a nice run in the rain. If I ate chinese food and slowed to a walk it would be something Becky could include in her posts -"Do you like chinese food, walks in the rain?



I received just enough encouragement to go ahead with the hair cut / buzz. Dorothy offered to install hair extensions, but it is awfully cold in Michigan these days. Maybe this spring Dorothy. Weather here today is in the 60's. Maybe I will post a before and after photos for your laughing pleasure.



Last night our gang bantered the idea of getting a sack of oysters today. I love raw oysters. The way to eat them is on a cracker topped with a concoction of cocktail sauce, horseradish, and Tobasco sauce. They must be hot and spicy. Some people enjoy a nice cold brewski with them too. I am one of those people. The fun of such an event is giving each other pointers on the proper shucking technique and just generally BS'ing as you enjoy some fine eating.



Dale moved his blog to Typepad, so make a note of the address change. It looks great - maybe I should move over there with him.



I better run, literally. I hope you all have a nice Saturday.

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Never mind about the running. My running partner just called to cancel. I stuck my head out the door and said to my self, "screw this" (well I said something to that affect to myself), anyway, it should be dry tomorrow, just a little colder. I hate to put off the run and have it continue to loom. It also means I have moderate my food and drink intake tonight. Running with a hangover is one of my least favorite things. It ranks right up there with a stomach virus and babysitting the neighbors 6 year old with ADHD. On the upside, I have more time to edit my year end video.

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For those of you who use Macintosh, get iLife 04. Not only is iPhoto, iTunes, iMovie, and iDVD updated, but you get a new program called GarageBand. This program is awesome! It is a music making program. I am going to have fun with it. The best way to describe it is it is a keyboard for the computer. Just choose an instrument and peck away. Lay down tracks and mix the sound. A musical moron could come up with something nice with this program. I may try connecting a MIDI keyboard and tap some of the other features of this software. I could explore computer fun forever. I love it all. Music, photos, video, and especially blogging.











Until the next time

John Strain

About Blogging

Thursday, I was discussing blogging with a coworker. She said a morning news program was talking about blogs. I reminded her of my prediction back in July. Shortly after I drank the "blog kool aid", I was telling everyone how they would be hearing more and more about this relatively new phenomenon.



I started a blog to write and record things about my life. At first, I just wrote for me. It was just a journal. I knew someone could read it, but did not think much about it. An email from a reader changed my perspective. There is someone out there reading my stuff. Then I got a sitemeter and comments. I quickly became obsessed. I wanted to see if I got a hit. I would shamelessly republish my blog to get on the sidebar of Blogger. If I was on the sidebar it would usually generate a hit. I learned bits of info about my readers like the time zone they were in, the type of browser and OS they used. I was thrilled each time someone put my link on their site. I read the site of the person who linked me. Sometimes I emailed them and commented on their posts. I developed acquaintances and eventually a new kind of friend. None of this I expected or even dreamed about when I launched the blog July 19, 2003.



Some of the blogs I read voiced strong opinions I did not agree with. Other blogs, I agreed with more easily. The difference though is I did not blow off the ones I disagreed with, because I had gotten to know the authors some and appreciated them even if I did not agree or believe everything they said. If you are saying "duh" right now, look at yourself. How many friends do you associate with who differ drastically from you in politics, religion, or culture? Now look at your blogroll. How many of them are different? If you are like me, I have lots of people in my blogroll who I have disagreed with on a number of topics, but it has not been a test of fellowship so to speak. I enjoy reading the different points of view. I give them the benefit of the doubt. I look for ways to accept them - not reject them. I am not this way with people face to face.



One positive aspect of blogging is that communication is slowed. On the news / talk shows, communication is fast paced. Guests must make their point quickly and with some flair or we flip the channel. It is common for both guests to be talking at the same time. They do not discuss, they attempt to out shout their opponent. Listening does not happen. They do not seek a middle ground of agreement, but stand firmly in their narrow view condemning all those who differ. In blogging, one reads the entire post thus "hearing the author out." When I do respond to a post I show respect for the author's opinion. I am a guest on their site and if I disagree, I try to do it respectfully. After all, we are much more than a political opinion. We have so much more in common than political and religious views - family, children, school, spouses, pets, and interests - to name but a few. We like to express ourselves. We are interested in others. We want to connect and interact with people. It gives me a rush to think someone in England or Canada gives a darn about what I write.



Is it possible to treat those we interact with daily as well as we do our blog buddies? Maybe you do, but I am pretty sure I cut my blog pals more slack than I do people I see each day. Maybe it is because we do not want anything from each other in blog land. We are not in competition. There is no reason to manipulate each other or attempt to control one another. We read what each has to say. We respond supportively. We have seen photos of each other, but when we blog, we are invisible. Our clothes, weight, and appearance do not matter. In real life, these things do matter. The good looking blonde with cleavage gets more help and attention than the "plain Jane." The pretty people get chosen over the ugly people. Cute babies get more love and attention than ugly babies.



In short, we may be more honest and more ourselves when we blog. When we interact face to face there are a myriad of things to get in the way of communication. I am hoping this experience of blogging will make me a better person. Maybe if i practice unconditional acceptance, tolerance, and support long enough in the blogsphere, I may start doing it more in the world. Maybe, others will do this too. We are talking about form and substance. Looking good is what the world wants. Good content is what is important in the blog world. Perhaps one day the world will value content and substance over form like we do in the blogsphere. If this is to be, we will all have a part in it.

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Dale, my cousin, has caved to pressure and started a blog. I am sure you all will enjoy reading his posts. Dale has a great sense of humor and a warm and unique writing style. Check him out.

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Busy Saturday planned. It is supposed to rain, but I have to get in a 16 mile run for my marathon training. After that, I get to work at the hospital to catch up on my cases. Looks like I will have to reward myself with a nice meal somewhere that evening. Ribs sound pretty good at this time.

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I am ready for a new hair style. Due to the lack of hair, I am thinking a crew cut. I don't have the nads to shave my head, but I do want it shorter, just to see how it looks. The "Queer Eye guys" did this for another guy who was nearly bald and it looked good. I could really freak Barbara out if I shaved my beard. She has never seen me clean shaven. I grew the beard in 1980. That means I have had it more than half of my life.

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The mars project is incredible to me. I thought about how, on one hand, there are people dedicated to this kind of exploration. They give their lives to learn and advance the knowledge of mankind. Then there are those, on the other hand, whose life fulfillment culminates in strapping a bomb to their body, boarding a bus and blowing themselves and those around to smitherines. Somehow destruction fulfills their life. How can people be so far apart on the meaning of life?



TGIF gang!



Until the next time

John Strain

Mr. Evil

When I was studying to be a minister, I obtained practical experience in the summers. For instance, one year I was a minister of youth, another year I was a summer missionary. I think it was the summer of 1979 when I was working as a teacher at the Vacation Bible School our church was conducting. My group was the 5th and 6th graders.



Vacation Bible School or VBS is a lot of work. Churches usually have to beg people in order to fill all of the teaching and staff positions. Why? Because those little kids can be mean. It isn't school, they just got out of school. The teachers are not real teachers, so the kids get their jollies putting the screws to the grown ups.



However, this particular year, the little urchins were in for more than they bargained for. They were not going to have some reluctant teacher who is only teaching, because he or she could not outwit the nominating committee. These lucky brats were getting a gung ho seminary student with back up from his mom and his sister, both are now famous bloggers. They were equally as motivated and we saw it as a challenge to teach them and not endure them.



Our plan was to take the initiative and keep them on their heels. We wanted to give them stuff they would not expect, thereby keeping them guessing. We had a fun 2 weeks of taking it to them and my mom tells me that every now and then she will run into one of our former students and they still talk about that year's VBS experience.



One of the things we did involved drama. One of us would dress in some sort of costume and drop in, seemingly interrupting the class. The kids enjoyed this and I think they learned because they did not realize they were being taught.



My idea was to dress like a hood. I would burst through the door in the middle of class and encourage the little tikes to be evil. I would tell them to disobey their parents, stop going to church, don't listen to the teachers. My hope of course, was to teach them positive values by voicing their opposites. It was a bit of a risk. What would I do if the squirts agreed with me?



I put on jeans, a white t-shirt, black leather motorcycle jacket (no offense Don and Dorothy), I carried a piece of pipe for a club, had a machete on my belt, a chain, and a "go to hell" hat. I guess I was going for the James Dean look in Rebel Without a Cause. While mom and Becky were teaching the class, I slipped out and got into costume. Then I waited outside the door for my cue. I was going to make a big entrance in the middle of their singing.



When it was time for the big entrance, I hit the door as I was opening it to make a loud noise and startle them if I could. The door flung open making the desired bang. I walked deliberately from the back of the class to the front. As I walked, the shock wore off and a couple of the boys began to snicker. They obviously knew it was me so they relaxed. I had to think of something quick to keep them in "uncertainville." What I did next was walk to the podium at the front of the class and with a sweeping blow with the pipe I was carrying, sent it flying across the room. I heard one little boy whisper, "I think he is mad." I noticed the picture of Jesus on the floor. It had fallen off of the podium so I stepped on it and kicked it too. This really got the kids attention and now it was quieter than a library.



I began to talk. "Go ahead and laugh. I like it when you laugh, because it means you aren't taking this stuff seriously. This is a waste of time. I can't believe people are here. Why don't you go do something fun like throw rocks at cars or steal a bike?" They just sat and stared at me, they did not know what to think. I completed my discourse and slowly walked out of the room, chuckling all the way. Mom and Becky debriefed them and determined trauma counselors would not be necessary. I walked down stairs and when I walked by the pastor's office, I had another idea.



The pastor was at his desk writing something. I stood in the doorway and leaned on a file cabinet with my right arm. I said in a low voice, "I want to see the pastor." He looked up, then did a double take. "John . . . is that you?" He let out a big sigh of relief and started laughing. "I was about to say, I'm not the pastor, but I'll go get him for you." We laughed and laughed about that one.



When I went back upstairs, the kids told me that when I was gone, some bad guy came by and told us to do bad things, but we aren't listening to him. They acted as though the visitor was not me as we continued to talk. It certainly made an impression.



It makes quite a difference on a job, if you are interested in it and you spend a little time putting your own personal twist on it. That is one Vacation Bible School none of us will ever forget.



Until the next time

John Strain