Because a true classic never goes out of style. The weekend was pretty uneventful, marked by yet another arguably useless safety standdown, (I had staff duty, so it didn't matter in the slightest) wherein we discussed firearms safety. Personally, I'm more of a bladed or percussive weapon type of guy, though to be honest I'm not sure when I would need a weapon. Of course, I know about firearms, being a soldier and all, and know not to screw with them. They are most useful machines, but there's a mile and a half of red tape involved in keeping one on post, not to mention the fact that they don't come cheap. So speaking solely for myself, lacking a hunting license, I figure it's a sight more trouble than it's worth. If I need to kill someone or something, the day-to-day environment provides more than adequate weaponry for disposing of any threat. I like to go ninja style- "There are 124 things in this room I can kill you with, including the room itself".
At any rate, today is also the 4-Town Fair, up in Ellington. This is very cool, unfortunately I am hell and gone from Ellington. Connecticut contains numerous farms, so the Fair is always an exciting event. I was told Max, my son, won a ribbon in the corn-eating contest. I'm proud of that boy! Though that surprises me not at all, where food is concerned I would put money on Max if I was a betting man. That guy is skinny as a rail, and never filled up! But then again, I was the same way when I was his age- I think in both cases, we required considerable fuel reserves to power our awesome intellects. Max is a reader, I also know. He loves books, and loves to read them. I can relate, as I love books too. It's often a nice retreat from the day to day stresses of life, though sometimes I tend to think I'm over-imaginative, and need to keep in mind, there's a real world and the dream-world- though the brain responds the same to both sets of stimuli, one has consequences, the other, less so. Seems I also am getting the knack of what I've heard called lucid dreaming- that is, you can manipulate the dream world, objects in it, and all that stuff to suit your own whims, though I have yet to find a practical purpose for this yet.
The most recent dream I had was interpreted by Tabatha, with surprising accuracy. I'm still puzzled about the old black Oldsmobile, though. Well, at any rate, I would have preferred an old Mustang, but that's ok. There were two kittens in this dream- I held them both, afraid to set them down, as they were newly born and I wasn't sure what to do with them. I kind of got the impression it fell to me to keep them safe and warm, so that I did. It also fell to me to feed them, I think mama cat didn't make it, sadly. Again, weird things in dreams! At any rate, these two kittens were interesting specimens, one a pale orange and white tiger stripe, the other also striped, but black and gray. It also fell to me to feed the two newly orphaned kids, which proved a simple if painful task. See, these kittens weren't interested in milk- they required blood to sustain them. So it was that four sharp fangs sank into my fingers, and they nursed happily away. It hurt like hell, even in the dream, but I realized these poor little devils were just trying to survive. I remember waking up, and feeling a phantom pain in the fingers of my hand.
At any rate, Tabatha pointed out her nickname, that I use often- Kitty. The colors of the kittens, she said, seemed to be more or less opposite. True, I thought. Therefore we would have a light side and a shadow side. How very Jungian. At any rate, I felt responsible for these two little terrors, and to put them down or deny them blood would surely mean their downfall. So it was that I sacrificed something really not that demanding for them, and they thrived. Does this mean that I resent Kitty in my life? Well, if I do, I'm positive it's not consciously, and I have strong doubts about subconsciously.
She is who she is, just as I am who I am. And the green grass, as they say, grows all around. Perhaps this was just a dream about hemophagous kittens- sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. The hour, however, grows late, and there's laundry to be done. As always, stay away from the Tenafly Viper- it may be cheap, but the hangover is pretty nasty.
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