Riding the dream weaver wave train
April E. Clark
Glenwood Springs, Colorado CO
I can always tell things are about to happen – good or bad – by the frequency of my dreams. Or at least the frequency of me remembering my dreams.
Lately they both have been quite active.
A few weeks ago, I woke up from a dream feeling anxious. The anxiety mostly stemmed from the fact that I nearly drowned in the dream. And drowning is one of my big fears. So technically that would be a nightmare. Except I was dressed as a fashionably dressed pirate in sequins.
For some, that could be a nightmare.
In the dream, there was a huge river rushing through the middle of a city I didn’t quite recognize, but it could have been Portland. Think the Shoshone section of the Colorado River in Glenwood Canyon during high water. I suppose the fact I’ve lived in the city of Glenwood Springs – which has a river running through it and a whitewater park that has its big-wave moments – has some influence on what goes through my head at night.
I obviously want to be a pirate on some level, too.
There were a lot of people I recognized in said pirate-river dream. The problem with most of these people in the dream is they were leaving me behind as they rushed past on their rafts. Some of the rafts were the fancy rubber types we float around on here in Colorado. Some were made out of scraps of wood and bark.
I may have read too much “Adventures of Tom Sawyer” in my younger days.
During most of the dream I was either floating very rapidly down the river as others waved their goodbyes. Or I found myself perched on a rock waiting for someone to pick me up, another true-life moment I experienced after a failed attempt at stand-up paddling on the river. This time I didn’t have my young river aficionado Shane Michael Burr to save me.
I’m sure his chance will come again.
My highly spirited friend Janelle was in the dream – thank goodness – and she came to save the day. She was wearing hot pink spandex with a fluffy tutu to match and she scooped me up onto her boat. There were tears and the whole shebang.
That hot pink spandex has to mean something.
As the dream was coming to a hyper-emotional close, an old friend from high school, who is now a fireman near Athens, Ga., suddenly appeared on a boat with other swift water rescue team members. I do put a lot of faith and trust in anyone who fights fires and saves lives for a living, so that part makes a little sense. I imagine it’s a good thing Aaron wasn’t wearing hot pink spandex and a matching tutu as his swift water rescue gear.
That would just be weird.
Since I rely so heavily on the opinions of my Facebook friends, I threw this dream out as a post for a little free dream analysis. Not sure what price dream analysis is going for these days, but that’s the beauty of social networking. My firefighter friend’s wife, Kelley, thought the dream was an indicator that I wanted their family to return for another Claas family ski vacation. I can see that.
Their kids do owe me a rematch in Wii Bowling.
Another Facebook friend thought tequila was involved. This would not be accurate. And I would think rum would be better cause for such high-seas adventure, or in this case high-river excitement.
Rum goes so much better with hot pink tutus.
But my friend Erin put it the best with her dream analysis.
“OK, well, you were fashionably dressed because let’s face it: you’re hot,” she wrote.
I will take that and raise you $20, Erin Walla.
“The raging river is your life,” she continued. “An agitated, fluid, always changing, untamable, unpredictable, swirling, twirling ride.”
“The rocks are your heart. Unmovable in a river of unpredictability.”
Someone get this girl her own TV show.
“You kept getting left behind because, well, you’re a pirate,” she concluded. “And who the heck [sic] wants to hang out with a pirate, on a river, in a city?”
Firemen and girls in hot pink tutus; that’s who.
April E. Clark will not be wearing the puffy pirate shirt in her stand-up routines this week in Glenwood Springs. She can be reached at aprilelizabethclark@ yahoo.com.
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