Dreaming

I’ve lately been enjoying a number of silly dreams, too silly, in fact, to keep to myself so I share two of them here from a recent vacation. To set the stage, when we travel I share a bed with our son, Wife Klem shares a bed with our daughter.

Night #1

In my dream I’m walking through the streets of a foreign city at night. I know it’s a foreign city because in Spanish I’m asking pedestrians and passersby ‘Donde esta me chaqueta?’ [‘Where is my jacket’]. Why I’m speaking in Spanish in my dream I know not. [I’m not a Spanish speaker although I have made an effort over the years to learn the language to some minor effect. Clearly my subconscious has been paying attention.] None of the pedestrians knows the whereabouts of my jacket. They walk briskly past me not even slowing down to acknowledge me. It’s a chilly night in the dream and my jacket would increase my comfort level. I woke up in the middle of the night to find that my son, with whom I’d been sharing a bed, has rolled over and taken all the covers. In my dream I’m looking for my jacket, but in real life my slumbering self is cold and merely wants a blanket.

Night #2

The second dream, though far less detailed, carries the same them. I’m a spectator in an ice rink watching an amateur hockey game. Sure is chilly in an ice rink and I had forgotten to layer on the clothing. I woke up to, again, find that my son had rolled over and taken the bed covers with him.

Hopefully Sigmund Freud or one of his ilk does not find any more embarrassing meaning hidden deeply within these subconscious thoughts.

Me and Pistachio Ice Cream

I’ve never eaten pistachio ice cream. True, never even a sampling. Not that I have an aversion to pistachios, in fact, my taste buds and I find the nuts to be delectable. As a youngster I do recall thinking such a flavor of ice cream was someone’s joke and, if it were real, it would stink, in kids’ parlance. But what did I know, I was a kid. Despite having heard intermittently over the years that this variety of ice cream is actually delicious, I have remained unintentionally without. Here, then, is why.

If I were at an ice cream store, and I have been many times, how could I take a chance on such an unknown as pistachio when so much in the way of known quantities of delight are available and ready to be dispensed at the asking? With so much at stake, do I take a chance on this nut ice cream or do I order the surety? If I were to request a single scoop of pistachio ice cream and it fell short of expectations, it would be a crushing blow in that moment knowing that I could have had mint chocolate chip or rocky road, but instead willingly subjected myself to consuming the pistachio. That’s it. That’s the main reason it hasn’t crossed these lips, the competition is too great!

My lack of pistachio is not a purposeful avoidance, you see. This is not an active abstinence to stubbornly remain free of pistachio. It is merely that I have not had a captive opportunity. What do I mean by captive? If I were at someone’s home [a voluntarily captive audience, as it were] and the pistachio were offered, I would refrain no longer. But really, what are the odds? So many super flavors of ice cream available for purchase at a grocery store, who would buy pistachio in a size as vast as a quart to have in the freezer in a time of need? A scoop of pistachio, I can imagine that happening, but a whole quart of the stuff? Come on.

Next hurdle, should I just by chance happen to be in an abode that just happened to have a quart of pistachio ice cream on hand, how would I know that’s it’s on tap? Or how would the host know to offer? I might actually have been in a home with pistachio available for the asking, but the infinitesimal chance of the topic arising and the pistachio ice cream coming to light had never come to fruition! I could have at some point even been standing next to a refrigerator bearing the ice cream, but there was no conjoining between me and pistachio.

Anyway, pistachio ice cream. I’ve never had the stuff. I will, however, knock back a cone of chocolate chip at my earliest convenience.

-klem

A Victory For Patience

After much discussion my son’s room has finally been painted by the effort of my own hands. Patient Wife Klem has been planning this paint job and considering a spectrum of colors since last summer. My son has been living with a good swath of his possessions in boxes for a year. Me? This monkey of a chore is no longer on my back, it has been exorcised through the patient process of priming and painting.

 

Team Klem is now unhindered to engage the 4^th of July weekend in full force with traditional celebratory root beer floats!

Observations

1) Hair. As I get older this silly stuff is much less important than during my youthful years.

2) My choice of super power, if I had such a choice? Never having to sleep and being entirely without detrimental side effects of tiredness. Not sure what I’d do with all that extra time, but hopefully something at least a little productive.

3) If you want to be interesting, it is necessary to be interested in something.

4) Tobacco. I’m in favor of people and their free will to knock back a few cancer sticks if wanted, I’m entirely pro choice in that regard. My beef, however, is the litterbugging. Smoke if you want, but don’t toss your butt on the ground.

5) Cookies, because you want them, not because you need them. Vegetables? Because you need them.

6) Do something, don’t just be something. Happiness is attained in the journey to doing something, not in the destination.

7) The ways in which a person spends their time reveals what’s important to them [i.e., important enough to pull me away from my plastic screen]. I admittedly have work to do in this area.

8) Have a problem? Seek resolution to that problem so you may move on. Don’t clog up your days worrying and aggravating. Solve it, then go forth unhindered.

9) I was absolutely invincible in my teens and 20s. What I failed to acknowledge at that time was how ‘vincible’ I would become as I navigated my 40s.

10) Happiness. With few exceptions, each person is responsible for their own happiness. Get happy and stay there, it’s a better existence.

-klem

The Voice

This guy frequently heard a voice, not voices, just a single voice. Nobody around, no television or music playing, no ambient noise, just a clear crisp voice speaking with a high quality surround sound effect. It was not necessarily speaking to him, but there was typically nobody else physically present when it was heard. The voice never spoke in a complete sentence, but several times throughout the day he might hear ‘red apple’, ‘nice shoes’, ‘larynx’. Occasionally up to four words were spoken, ‘and wonderful incandescent lightbulb’ or ‘bug in dog bowl,’ but the absence of verbs was a constant.

The voice was always the same, a male in his 30s, or thereabouts, speaking in a pleasant tone and occasionally with an emphasis placed on an incorrect syllable; ‘belt-BUCK-le’ or ‘ham-BURG-lar’. This sometimes caused him to smile self-consciously and hope that nobody might ask, ‘What’s so funny?’ ‘Oh, the voice in my head mispronounced a word,’ he might be obligated to respond. He might hear the voice from another room not knowing if another person were present, unless, of course, a verb had been employed. He would instinctively respond without consciously being triggered by the employment of the verb.

The voice was bothersome, sometimes entertaining, but not scary because it spoke mostly curiosities, never instructions or statements. The voice did add a degree of difficulty when on a conference call for work. The difficulty came when he would hear someone and not know if it was on the call or if it was the voice. ‘Did you hear me?’ or ‘Are you there?’ were questions not irregularly posed to him.

For decades he’d heard it and made mentions throughout his youthful years to his parents. Doctor visits confirmed his hearing was perfect and no conditions, otherwise, to question his sanity or impeccable health, physical or mental. He did, for a brief period in his late adolescence, write down all the spoken words over the course of two months. This filled four and a half pages and was discarded when he thought it might be discovered and thought to be a kind of poorly written manifesto.

When he lived by himself the voice kept him company, to an extent, as if he had a roommate. You know, a roommate who was the antithesis of verbose. Unfortunately, the voice was not restricted to his domicile. He endured it over the years until it suddenly ruined him.

He was traveling for work late one night in an unfamiliar town. He had taken a late flight, had been unable to sleep on the plane, and arrived in poor condition. He retrieved his rental car and was en route to his destination. Being unfamiliar with the required route he had his phone’s mapping application calling out directions. The voice, not the directional app, very inopportunely chimed in ‘left now’ causing him to respond due to his shabby mental state. He turned immediately directly into traffic and was harshly brought to an end by a large truck. The voice was finally put to rest.

-wdk

Bullshit

Esquire magazine’s March issue published a list of Bullshit. I agreed with much [i.e., LinkedIn endorsements, emails without subject lines] and disagreed with much [i.e., wedding rings, NBA playoffs]. Here’s my list of stuff they neglected to mention:

1.   Button-fly blue jeans.

2.   Dogs raised to be weapons.

3.   People who raise dogs to be weapons.

4.   Moments of silence. Spare me the captive participation in your pomposity.

5.   The war on tobacco. Sure it’s not healthy, but people have a choice.

6.   The same people fighting tobacco are advocating for the legalization of marijuana. You’re telling me that tobacco is bad but Mary Jane is good? That illogical line of thought carries an odious waft.

7.   Anecdotal evidence offered up to debunk statistics. Those anecdotes are the outliers, not debunking material.

8.   The ease with which too many people deploy foul language in public. That’s shamefully lazy conversation.

9.   Politically Correct speech. Do we really need to mask factual statements that make some tender-minded individuals uncomfortable? PC constraints lead to confused discussion and counterproductive policy implementation.

10.People who speak in terms of a slippery slope. Unless they’re actually talking about a slippery slope.

11. Pennies. The coins, not people bearing the name Penny.

12. Taking nuclear off the table as a viable energy source. Think about the telephone in the 1970s with the rotary dial, then the breakthrough of the push buttons to where we are now. I’m inclined to think there’s been a similarly impressive trajectory for improvements in the field of nuclear energy.

13.Vegetarian chili. No, it’s a bean casserole, don’t taint the name of chili with that swill.

14.Advocating for renewable energy in Africa. Look, I realize Global Climate Change is the catalyst for much farcical activity around the globe, but the key to saving the lives of the poor is to elevate them out of poverty. Providing access to fossil fuels is a more effective way to help save lives [i.e., refrigeration, medicine, clean cooking fuel, electricity by which to read and effect learning] than the climate change-induced guilt payments to corrupt governments. Solar panels in these poor villages will recharge a cell phone, provide a single lightbulb, and ensure the continuation of poverty.

15.People who too willingly take offense rather than engage the opportunity for discussion. Taking offense is a choice, a cowardly one.

16.People who cower in the face of the offended rather than engage the opportunity for discussion. This cowardly reaction feeds the ‘I’m offended’ industry.

17.Graffiti ‘artists’. If it’s not your property or you were not commissioned to do it, then it’s graffiti, not art.

18.Hotels that do not offer hot chocolate with their complimentary breakfast.

19.Gay Marriage arguments. Like it or not, it’s legal and is never going away. Can we talk about something constructive now?

20.Pro-Choice and Pro-Life arguments. Like it or not, abortion is legal and is never going away. Can we talk about something constructive now?

21.The appendix. The body part, not the book part.

22.The curious criminal justice reform movement and the push for early release of prisoners. Explain that position to the victims’ families. Convicts are not in prison for stealing a slice of pizza, a prison sentence is a lifetime achievement award. No recidivism for you, go back to your cell.

23.California’s drought reminder public messages after a rainfall. You know, just in case we thought that ½-inch rainy afternoon ended the water rationing.

24.Publicly funded sports stadiums. It has been proven that these are not good for the communities that pony up the millions of dollars. Works great, however, for making rich guys vastly richer.

25. The Olympics. Unless they’re performing in the nude like the original Greco-Roman Olympics, I’ll skip the pageantry.

Thanks for hearing me out.
-klem

Errant Shoe

It was a bitter cold northeast night with temperatures dropping and rain in the forecast. On a busy highway there lay a shoe along the curb, laces awry conjuring an image of struggle. From whence had it come, this shoe? Or the foot that once bore it, what of it? Was there some sort of scuffle resulting in the shoe being cast away or merely horseplay resulting in it being thrown from the open window of a rapidly moving vehicle?

Night was by now in full swing and rain had commenced with snow projected to follow the next day. Should no recapture be worked out the shoe was in for a rugged time. And what of its compadre? Is it, too, lost or is it still safely ensconced in its domestic existence? How long could that be maintained if its errant partner remains on the lam? The healthy shoe at some point will be deemed rubbish without its teammate and be cast into the ash bin.

The youth who had most recently worn the shoe returned home from school quickly tossing aside his backpack and gym gear. He was an athletic fellow boasting of average skills for the three main North American sports. He was in a hurry to fulfill his post-school routine of securing an afternoon snack. He disembarked his gear in an impressive single-motion of haphazard discardment allowing the vacancy of the aforementioned missing item to go unnoticed.

One gym shoe landed in the vicinity of the shoe pile just inside the garage door adjacent to the recycle bins. He saw the one land, did not observe the second, of course, because the second never made it home. ‘Maybe in my gym bag,’ he thought, but he was in too much of a food frenzy-induced haste to seek verification. He was not entirely aware that the second shoe was absent. The pile of shoes was generously engorged with those of his three brothers. It could be, and likely would be, months before it is even noticed that it was missing, weeks, easily. Even then the remaining shoe would experience a period of time in purgatory to see if its compadre somehow turned up.

The wayward shoe had slipped from its cozy tight pocket of the book bag while the boy rode his bike home from school. The bicycle was ridden roughly over the curb in avoidance of a group of people at the bus stop. This knocked loose said shoe because they had not been tied together nor properly secured. They had been stuffed into each side pocket of the backpack, but the constant jostling of the bike ride resulted in an eventual easily attained freedom.

A deep blue canvas quartertop basketball shoe, a left shoe, with a dark black smudge on its side, a hole by the toe, several overlapping layers of duct tape wrapped around the front near the toe, plus the iconic swoosh. Not a fashion statement, the carefully laid duct tape, but remedial action necessitated by the host’s vigorous and plentiful skateboarding. This shoe will never be worn again. It was in a depression along the curb and rain was already pooling. This was shaping up to be a very bad first night on the loose.

-klem