Nightmares as vivid as the last one I blogged about are few and far between, especially since The Wire ended and I dumped HBO. It was costing me $50 per month and The Wire was the only show I was watching on it, so I don't miss it in the least. I've had several dreams since then but none have been nearly as interesting as that one!

Last night though I had a very curious dream, in which I was very rich and lived next door to Bob Weir! For those of you who do not recognize the name, he, along with Jerry Garcia, was one of the Grateful Dead's guitar players.

I don't remember much, except being outside doing yard work, and inadvertantly filling up a wheelbarrow with water from a sprinkler. Rather than dump it out on my already well-watered plants, I wheeled it over to my "good buddy" Bobby's house (as if!) to see if he could use it.

As I recall, about half the water splashed out of the thing on the trip over, making it semi-obvious that my efforts were more about finding an excuse to put the chores on hold and schmooze with a rock star than trying to conserve a little bit of water. But Bobby was amicable enough, and we had a nice little chat!

Although I was a big fan of The Dead back in the day, lately I've been listening just about everything else. So I really have no idea where this dream came from, except that I do need to get out and get some yard work done pretty soon. But it was nice to finally have something worth blogging about here!

Last night I had a dream in which I was one of the gangsters in David Simon's The Wire. We were in one of the high-rises and I had my seven-shot .357 Smith and Wesson revolver (yes I own one in real life).

I felt like I was Michael Lee, a sometimes reluctant hit man in Marlo Stanfield's organization, and I knew for sure that they were going to "do" me. I remember checking the cylinder of my gat and two rounds were missing. Five would have to do.

Next thing I know I've shot Chris Partlow, and a Russian is trying to shoot me with his AK47. Fortunately it jammed, else I would not be typing this right now (j/k!). So I capped his ass and instantaneously found the stairwell. I remember flying - literally - down the stairs, making ample use of the handrails and hitting only like one or two steps out of every group of 10 or 12 just before waking up.  "Out of my way!"

A Recurring Theme?

Earlier this year, when the series was ending and I was watching it more frequently, I had recurring dreams in which I was with one group and fighting another. Those nightmares were not like this one, in that it felt more like we were part of a bigger group waging war outside rather than having a small gunfight indoors.

At the time I couldn't quite figure out what was behind these dreams.  But in the two I remember most vividly I recall a sincere reluctance on my part to hurt "the enemy."

In one case I threw a heavy bowling-pin type object at a friend of a friend, hitting him in the nose. It didn't kill him but I am sure it hurt plenty! I woke up immediately with an overwhelming feeling of guilt in addition to feeling a huge sense of relief that this did not happen in real life.

In another case we were using guns (rifles and definitely not the revolver I own in real life) and the enemy was hidden. After several shots I caught a glimpse of one of "the others" and saw that she was female! I said "I ain't shootin' no woman!" (probably out loud because I do talk in my sleep at times) and got the hell out of there, again feeling relief that it was just a dream.

No Remorse This Time 

Reflecting on these older dreams in light of the most recent one, I now feel certain they were inspired by Michael's character on The Wire. He could be cold and business-like about his duties, but only up to a point.

In life we all meet good people and bad people, and since High School it's been my goal to treat the good ones with kindness and respect while keeping the bad ones at bay.  This implies a certain amount of vulnerability with respect to new friends, while one discovers how trustworthy they are.

The attitude I try to base my life on is to be where Ken Kesey's "you're either on the bus or off the bus" meets the Roots' "I might forgive but I do not forget."  All too often people whose world view is that others are either above or below them do not get this until it's too late. 

If you haven't seen the show you'll have to take my word for it: Chris was a cold-blooded remorseless character, and one would be foolish to regret killing him in self-defense.  But then, in the show he was Michael's defender, so to a certain extent the dream was not true to that reality.

I wonder what Carl Jung might have to say about all this.