Today was a slightly better day. It all started off very weird though…
As I may have said at some point in the past, I generally do not remember my dreams. A little glimpse here or there, but rarely the entirety of a dream. There’s a whole group of people out there that believe dreams can be interpreted to find deeper meaning. There are others that believe our dreams are a kind of fortune-telling device. I’ve never really spent much time trying to figure it out. Want to have a go at it? Here’s what I still remember from my dream last night:
It started as though I was watching a television show. It had the feel of Doctor Who. Moments later, I became part of the “show.” I was sent to lead a group of people on some sort of mission. The group of people were the characters from the late 70s, early 80s BBC science fiction drama, “Blake’s 7.” Blake, Avon and Vila were there, among others that I do not clearly recall. I saw them as their characters, but also as the actors that portrayed them. I had conversations with them where I knew what their characters had been through during the show, puzzling them as to how I, a complete stranger, could know their lives. On several occasions, I referred to them by their real (actor’s) names, getting back puzzled stares as though they had no idea what I was talking about.
I remember leading them through a series of corridors, walkways and landscapes. I remember taking those breaks to talk to them. Finally, we arrived at some kind of an indoor structure with a large steel door. The door opened and we were told that we were chosen to move on and help rebuild the world. It then dawned on me–we had seen no other people during our travels. It was kind of a post-apocalyptic landscape/world. Somehow, the experiences of these characters was going to make them ideal leaders in the new society. (Now, if they were going to be such great leaders, I have no idea why I would be needed to get them from Point A to Point B to become these leaders…) Then I woke up.
What does it all mean? Maybe that I haven’t watched enough good British sci-fi recently? Perhaps my subconscious is trying to convince me that I need to be a leader of leaders? I think it just means that my brain is frazzled from all the recent events surrounding me, and I went back to a comfortable, happy place in my dreams.
See, many years ago, I frequented Chicago-area British sci-fi conventions. One of the regulars was a Blake’s 7 (and eventually Blake’s 7 and Robin of Sherwood) convention. At this last convention, I was a little bored and decided to wander the hotel. In the process, I wandered right into the “Green Room” where the convention guests were relaxing, talking and just being regular human beings (as opposed to some kind of idolized pop culture figures). To this day, I don’t know how I managed to pull it off–I couldn’t have been more than 15-16 years old–but I wound up working security for the remainder of the convention. Anyhow, I still vividly remember sitting in the Green Room talking to Sally Knyvette, Jan Chappell, Michael Keating (not to be confused with Beetlejuice himself, Michael KEATON) and other cast members from the show, just listening to their stories, throwing in the occasional comment, and having the best time I’d ever had at a convention. No–I did not ask if they remembered what they were thinking during Series 2 Episode 11. That kind of question always made me cringe. Yeah, sure, somewhere I have a few of their autographs, but those aren’t as important as the precious memories I gained just talking and listening to them that afternoon.
It’s fascinating that those memories seemed to make their way, albeit in a twisted form, back into my dream last night–some 30 years later. Weird.
From there, I got up and had a pretty decent start to my morning. Got a good deal of research and writing accomplished before…the midday crash. Right around noon, I had the emotion swell that has become an almost daily occurrence. Eyes teared up, voice got choked up, and it was hard to focus from there on out. I got a little done in the afternoon, but I remained in a tear-shrouded haze for most of the rest of the work day.
As I prepare for bed tonight, I wonder what kind of bizarre 80s relic I might dream about tonight…or if I will remember the dream at all…