One of my fantasies is to have a house on the ocean in the Pacific Northwest and watch the sea beat against the shore on a wintery day. The next best fantasy is to have a home on Lake Superior and watch the same thing. Or at least take a vacation and have a room that faces a large body of water during a wintery storm.
But all I have is this weird windstorm in October. It’s at a park by Lake Monona, a mile from my house. I’m in a car. And it’s only for a few minutes on an afternoon. It’s as good as it gets.
Back in the good old days when The Internet Gave You Stuff, I had accumulated a bunch of points just for having a popular site on GeoCities, which earned me points I could redeem at various places like The Museum Shop (I got jewelry and decorative glassware) and The Sharper Image, which had these crazy little old school electronic toys called “WeeBots.” I don’t know why I got a bunch of WeeBots, but they are rather fun for animals. Their batteries are wearing out, and some of them don’t work as well as they did ten years ago, as you can see from the movie. But they do elicit some fun expressions from the pets.
I don’t think Caligula is in the movie…he’s the oldest animal now, and he’s seen it all before.
I’m guessing Jasper was around 3 months when this was taken.
This movie was recorded probably when Jasper was about 12 weeks or so.
Lucifer Sam would always spin for his food. I don’t know why–we didn’t teach him this. It just comes natural to Pugs to spin. For our first Pug, Hieronymus, we put the spinning on cue, so when we said “Bagel,” he would make donuts.
Plato never danced for his food. He barked a lot. Sometimes he stood up as the foodbowl headed his way, but never danced.
When we first got Jasper, he just sat and watched as we prepped his food. Such a well-behaved dog. But then he started picking up on Lucifer Sam’s spinning. He could not spin like the Pug. His dance was sort like crossing a spinning Pug with Elaine’s (Seinfeld) dance. Sort of spastic and uncoordinated.
This is the early version of the Jasper Dance. Some time I’ll record his more recent version. He’s developing a style.
I dreamt for some reason, who knows why, I had to go to the church my dad used to go to. Maybe I had to go to it to deliver something [but what? why?]…it certainly wasn’t because I wanted to “go to church.” In the dream, my dad was still able to go to church, and I didn’t want to enter it at the time he’d be there and have him see me there because I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. I was driving with Stan, and I told him to go around the block a few times and wait until the church got out before I went in it. As we drove up Mountain Ave., it seemed more like University Ave. in Madison around Bascom hill. A few years ago a whole bunch of buildings were torn down on the north side of the street at the base of the hill to do some rebuilding/remodelling on campus, and that’s what Mountain Ave. in The Fort looked like in this dream. I guess that would include the Avery House and all the creepy church related houses to the east of it. A loss for architecture, but not so much for the other things.
I didn’t have that sense that “hey, I don’t have to go do this, I can leave” as I always do during nightmares when I’m in a church. That’s why I don’t think this had anything to do with churchness, but rather something else, like delivering something, or maybe it was a neighborhood meeting (that they sometimes have in churches), or a poling place or something unrelated.
Here’s another movie I took of Jasper when he was about 8 weeks old. I don’t have the exact date, I think I lost that info in the great computer crash of 2010.
This was a horrible dream. I can’t even put all the events in sequence. Once I wake up, I forget the order of the way things happen when it’s such a jumble as this one was. Rather than try to fit them together in a sequence, I’ll just recall them as individual vignettes. Remember, they’re not necessarily in order.
I was with Stan’s mom and at least one of our nieces (Lizzie…I can’t remember if Hannah was there). It’s very hard to describe the vehicle we were driving in…it was open to the air and rather unsafe. Lizzie was sitting in a seat and belted in (she should’ve been in a child seat). Stan and his mom were sitting in front, and I wanted to sit in back, not in a seat but on top of what seemed like a bookcase–and a very flimsy one at that. I was lying on top of the bookcase and clinging on for dear life. We were driving around some cheesey town where the tallest building was about 3 stories high. It was a motel. Stan’s mom was talking about how she stayed there. I realized it was really dangerous being on top of a bookshelf in the back of this vehicle, so I asked if I could sit in a seat when we were stopped. Everyone looked at me like I was a jerk for not remaining at my station. (normal IRL response would be: “Of course, come sit down here, it’s dangerous there!”) They reluctantly made room for me in a very small seat next to Lizzie. Lizzie got the “adult” seat and I got the child-sized sidler seat.
I was at some house…it must have been in The Fort. I don’t know if I lived there or if I was visiting. I was waiting for my parents. They arrive in some red/marroon European car (Volvo? Mercedes?). (It’s always been about bluish greenish cars for my parents….they’d never get anything red, unlike their daughter). My mom and dad looked like they did 20 years ago. I ask them where the dogs are, meaning my dogs. My mom said they were at home, meaning her home. I wanted to see my dogs. I wanted them to take me to see my dogs. I wanted to make sure they were safe.
I was walking home (who knows where home was) along some very dark road…sort of like the roads leading to the Arboretum at night…very forested. I could barely see, and other people driving or riding bikes down the road couldn’t see either because a bike collided into me. I wasn’t hurt as badly as I would’ve been IRL…I sort of detangle myself from the bike and keep going.
I am in a room full of people. A very old doctor, who looked sort of like a cross between Jack Kevorkian and Stan’s Grandpa K (who I never met because he died long before I met Stan) took me into his office because he could tell something was wrong. He wasn’t any taller than I am, and very old and skinny. But he seemed very intelligent and very “with it” for his age. His right arm was amputated at the elbow, and he used his stump to sense irregularities with people. He put his stump on my forehead, but I wasn’t freaked out at all as I would be IRL. His stump had an odd hypnotizing effect on me, and I saw weird swirly kaleidoscopic imagery. Oddly, this was the least unsettling of all the dream segments, and the most comforting. That just goes to show how horrific the other parts were.
And here’s probably the worst: I was with a group of people, mostly teenage girls or young 20s. I felt very out of place.There was some guy who entered the room and touched the faces and looked at a couple of the young women next to me in a seductive way, checking them out, completely ignoring me. (what am I, chopped liver?) People started getting up and walking toward the front of the room. I realized no one else was sitting down like I was, so I got up too. I asked a couple of the women who were sitting by me if I could cut in line with them. They were very reluctant to let me in, but it was so crowded, who would notice anyway. Now here’s the really difficult thing to explain and translate from dream-logic. There was someone who was telling some joke or story. I can’t explain what it was about, but it made me very mad because I realized it was all fake and superficial. Then there was some guy who was up in a bookcase (another bookcase) and he was destroying something living…I don’t know if it was an animal or a plant, but it made me mad, and I figured if he could kill something, I could kill him. So I go after him with a knife and slash him up. I don’t know if I actually killed him, but I go back into the room full of young women and announce that I killed that man. They stare at me as if I am some pariah. No, they don’t call the police or rush to the aid of the man. They just treat me like dirt. Zombies.
Ever since we got Jasper in June, I have been so busy that I haven’t been able to find any free time to upload any baby movies of him. (This one is taking over half an hour to upload). Then we went on a trip, my computer died, I came back from the trip and I was swamped trying to get my business back and running and restructuring some of my ebay listings to multi-variations (it’s like redoing your listings all over again, sort of like when I created my zen-cart store last fall)…doctor’s appointments, vet appointments, ophthalmologist appointments, too much. Way too much. Oh yeah, and a month ago my sites got hacked. No, not just the false alarm hack before the vacation. This time it was for real.
Now I’m getting toward the end of revising my listings, and the Ophthalmology appointments are done with (no, I don’t have glaucoma, fortunately…just scarred corneas as I’ve known for about a decade now…never was the diagnosis “it’s just scarred corneas” a GOOD thing to hear!). We still have doctor’s appointments…hearing tests for Stan, ultrasound for me, neutering for Jasper, yearly exams for the other animals.
But I’m finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. And a little time to upload these videos. So here we go…here’s the first one recorded a couple days after we got Jasper on June 16.
Ever see such a little dumpling?
I got a call around 12:30 pm my time…11:30 pm Bill time. Bill goes to work late by his own design, a straight shot down Horsetooth from his hilltop home to his place of work.
“They’re lining up on Horsetooth and College!” was the first thing he said with a David Lynchian delivery. Since it’s less than 2 weeks until the election, I thought he was calling about some event…some protest?
He said some other things to the effect of masses of people and cars blocking traffic…what was going on? Being completely out of the loop at a thousand miles away, I asked….”what?”
“Chic-fil-A!” he responded.
Those bastards. They killed Nate’s. There was also Pelican Fish a few blocks away on Mason. We’d always go to both of them and eat some great seafood when we visited. Great selection of various species of Oysters. But no. Seafood is too good for The Fort. Chic-fil-A is about par. Seeing Nate’s building (which was a pretty neat structure) being destroyed a years or two ago to build a styrofoam Chic was just so sad. The irony, is that we used to go to Nate’s on Sunday a lot…the day that Chic decides to stay closed. Not that we would go there or anything.
I see the hand of the Tea Party in this.
On WPR in the morning they were discussing the human and dog relationship. Someone said something to the effect of, “after good dogs die, they come back to life as a human.” No, I think it would be the other way around. That is, if I were to believe in reincarnation, which I don’t. It’s a nice idea, but I believe when you’re dead, you’re dead.
Karl Marx said religion is the opiate of the masses. Within the 21st century paradigm of the mega-church, I think it is more like fast food.