07:11:2004 Entry: "Ann : DREAM: Yellow-Jackets? What?"
DREAM: Yellow-Jackets? What?
Right after I woke up after this dream, I could remember it so clearly, step by step. I could even script it like a play. However when I woke up it was sometime around 3 o'clock or so...I'll be damned if I'll get up to write down a dream at that time, so I just mulled it over in my head, hoping to recall as much of it by the time I got to transcribe it in the morning. Unfortunately, I fear some things got lost in the retranslation. So here's my best shot.
Stan and I entered an old house. The front yard reminded me of a couple houses we had looked at once, one to rent in Colorado on North Grant Street (we ended up living on South Grant Street), and the other to buy on Merry Street here in Madison. The rental was a puny little one-story built maybe in the 1920s/30s or so. The one we didn't buy was a rather large 1800 or more square foot (yes, that's large for me) two story built probably in the late 1800s. We couldn't afford it at the time we looked at it, even though it was selling at the time for what we later bought our current house for. Good thing though, it needed a LOT of work. Our house was in, practical terms, move-in conditon, although aesthetically it wasn't move-in. But the other old house had to have major work done to be just plain funcitonal. I am hoping someone was able to restore wonders to it as it had SO MUCH potential. What reminded me of those two houses was the fact it had pine tress in the front yard. But enough of the house descriptions, let's get on with the dream.
Well, I have no idea why we were there or how we got there, but Roger Waters was there too. I don't know if it was his house or what. Stan introduced me, and I held out my hand for him to either shake or kiss it, I'm not sure. I just happened to mention that I've had over 500 exhibits of my art (what a dumb thing to say, and there's no way I've had 500 exhibits...200 maybe, if you count ALL exhibits I've been in). Were we guests? I don't know, but I wanted to make conversation, but whatever I thought of to say, I felt stupid saying it. I wanted to say how much I appreciated his music, but didn't want to feel like a stupid fawning fan. I guess I felt a bit overwhelmed in his presence. For some reason, Stan left to get something in the car or do something outside, I'm not sure what, which left me alone with Roger, still trying to think of something not stupid to say or tell him. He was also feeling uncomfortable being around me because he didn't know me.
We were looking out the front door. There was a tree stump that looked a lot like our old apple tree that blew over about 4 years ago or so. Then Roger said something really stupid: 'Aw, isn't that cute.' I had no idea what he was referring to, so I asked him, and he pointed at a squirrel that was on the tree stump (I do recall seeing a squirrel sitting on the apple tree stump the other day and thinking it was kind of cute...must be where I got that from). Then I wasn't standing anymore, but lying on my stomach on a bed or couch or something. Then Roger got up, walked around to the other side of me and patted me on the butt and said something like, 'So, did you really want me to get (or get rid of, I can't remember which) those yellow-jackets for you?' I can't remember the actual words, but the gist of the conversation was that he would get me the yellow-jackets in a gallant, heroic act (why would I want yellow-jackets?). I smiled and we started laughing and joking about the yellow-jackets and immediately our converstaion opened up and we didn't feel ill at ease or nervous anymore in eachother's presence. Of course, as you'd know it, that's when I woke up. Oh, but there were no tickets to see him perform in Milwaukee, unlike my Brian Eno dream.
I do have a picture of Roger wearing a yellow jacket (it was raining, it was before the concert) from the 1977 Animals tour. And a picture of him with Sting...not that there's any relation...just one of those baffling dream mysteries.