Blame the drummer

A British manager talking to his band about improving the act.

I don't know where you live

Flirting with a girl in a bar. I think she wants me to take her home.

What am I searching for?

Running along a country road, there are house every so often set far back from the road. A guy jogging comes up from behind me. He says something as he approaches. But instead of passing, he matches my pace beside me and keeps talking. And talking and talking. I speed up a bit, but he matches my pace. I run faster and pull ahead. I can still hear him babbling behind me, so I keep going faster until I’m running faster than possible. It’s like I’m flying on the ground, then I’m running on all fours like a leopard.
I slow down when I come up to the outskirts of a town. I walk behind a convenient store and steal a 10 speed bike that leaning against the railing of the ramp leading up to the back door between the dumpster and the loading dock.

I’m working at Disney World, but instead of one of the parks, I’m in a huge warehouse. I walk past rows of dusty bicycles leaning against one another. And start to sort through a pile of stacked golf bags. They’re the same style my Dad and Grandfather had in the late seventies and early eighties. I don’t see anything that interests me, so I walk on coming up to rows and rows of old pool tables jammed up against each other. I see old billiard balls covered in dust on a few tables and consider sticking a few in my pockets. But I walk on without grabbing any. I pass more pool tables and they start getting less old. I see lights ahead, which turn out to be glowing neon beer signs as I get closer. The pool tables are newer and spread out more. I’m now walking through a pool hall that seems to be located in the far end of the warehouse. A group of friends calls out to me from a corner table. They’re drinking beer and as I walk over, a tall black guy I don’t recognize greets me like an old friend. He knows me, but I can’t place him.

At a hotel with a group of friend about to go out. It is a mix of girls and guys we know. As we leave the casino, one of the girls starts flirting with me at the end of the night. She wants to make plans to meet, but I’m staying at a different place the next night.

Sarandon swims

I see Susan Sarandon walking through a beach resort and decide to go reintroduce myself. As I approach her, I see that she is talking on her cell phone. I walk along the same brick path she is on, but feel self-conscious following her. So I pretend to talk to on my iPhone and walk past her. When I sense that she is no longer on the phone, I slow down to let her pass. As she walks next me, I wrap up my imaginary phone conversation. But before I can say anything to her, she runs ahead onto the beach. She runs into the surf and just before she dives into the water, she turns and says, “Brian, Brian” as if mock-scolding me. I chase after her and dive into the water. As soon as my body goes under, I realize that I am still wearing a robe and that it was foolish of me to dive in after her. But I am surprised and pleased that she remembered me. Next thing I know, she is rubbing my feet.

Pardon me

Ray opens the door to the bathroom while I'm sitting on the toilet.

Don't count your chickens

I’m putting groceries away in the fridge, but Brooke has bought several cartons of eggs. I try to stack the cartons but they are all different shapes. One has three rows of eggs across and several rows deep. One is only two across but about 16 deep. Fitting them into the fridge is like doing a puzzle.

Slides

I’m walk into a crowded movie theatre as a movie is playing. Robin Williams is on screen in what seems to be a serious story set in a foreign country. There are two screens one on each of two walls that meet at a 90-degree angle. There are rows of seats facing each screen. The screen to the side is smaller. I sit down in an empty aisle a few rows from that screen. A man is sitting near me and starts talking to me nonstop. I try to ignore him, then get up and move to the front row of the other screen. I try to find a seat and see Craig Humphrey and perhaps a few other people from high school sitting in the aisle. Tim Funke is a few seats down and waves at me. They start sliding back and forth across the row as if on a conveyor belt that keeps changing direction. The result is that I cannot sit in the constantly filled empty seat I intended to.

Then I am walking down a city street and see a party going on in a loft. It is some kind of dorm building and the party is packed elbow to elbow with people having an amazing time.

Then I am looking into another building. It is a giant window of what looks like a gleaming modern storefront. But it is labeled as The Portfolio Center. The walls to each side are covered in student ads from top to bottom. The wall facing the window has huge posters of student ads hanging from small chains from the ceiling or hung on the wall by glass held in place by large steel screws. The work is amazingly good and one of the pieces is a tequila ad and is labeled with Karl Backus’ name. There is an old pick-up truck (like an old ford with rounded wheel wells.) on display on the floor right in front of the window. It is painted bright crazy colors like an art exhibit or maybe it is an ad. The sidewalk starts sliding and feels like a moving walkway at the airport. But it quickly changes direction and starts swinging back and forth in a long fluid glide. I look down and realize that it is actually the building that is sliding back and forth in front of me like a giant amusement park funhouse.

Run, McKenzie, run

I am racing Jeff down a street. He runs on the sidewalk across the street from me. I jump into the road and run down the center yellow line. Cars whiz past but I don’t notice or fear them. I am taking giant, super-human strides, it feels like I am flying I am running so swift and light. But Jeff is always right there even with me. The road is now deserted of traffic and runs downhill and winds around. The road narrows and runs through a small town. It reminds me of Old Shelbyville Road in Louisville. I realize I don’t know where we are racing to and look around trying to recognize something. We approach a subdivision and pass a row of houses. I see Jeff slightly ahead turning into the subdivision. I cut through a field before the turn and catch up to Jeff as we run down a hill in the field around a house. I wonder if we are racing to the house on the hill over the river.

We all move on some day

I am hiding in a strange house. I crouch down and peek out a front window to watch a few people (a family?) get into a car in the driveway. I am waiting for them to leave. I turn around and Grandma is standing in the round. I try talking to her and cry because I am so happy to see her. Then I notice she is talking with a slight New York accent. So it sounds like she is yelling at Grandpa. She is telling him what to do as she is holding a blouse on a plastic hanger. We are planning to take everything out of the house.

Leader of the pack

A pride of lion people roam in a suburb without houses. They walk upright and do not have fur or manes, but live in the wild. I am trying to join the group and am supposed to kill something but refuse. A man throws a rock at me, he seems to be a leader. I think he is challenging me to a fight, but he starts yelling at a another guy. The leader runs into a lake waist deep and begins hurling stones at the shore.