Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

I took with me a printed out copy of a humor piece we had written together for the Otakon program book. We had gone overboard on it, and it was twice as long as the editor wanted. So while we walked, we trimmed it down.

Already, I had cut quite a bit just by tightening language. But now we were in the tricky position of deciding whether to cut what was dear to us. We managed to find endless ways to tighten up the prose without losing any jokes. We only cut one inside joke we figured no one but we would get.

We kept a running tally of the number of words we'd cut. Our goal was to trim 500 words. By the time we were most of the way through the walk, we had done it. So I folded it up, put it in my pocket, and we enjoyed the nature trail.

Even though the sky was gray, rain wasn't due until evening. Still, we had the park practically to ourselves. We sat on a bench for awhile, talking, while Una drank water out of a bowl. In that time, except for a few owners and the state trooper talking to a paramedic in the parking lot, it was just us and the birds.

When we got home, we felt like Indian food for dinner, and we drove to a buffet we knew of near 40th Street. But it was jammed full of University of Pennsylvania students so, instead, we went to the nearby Thai restaurant, another of our favorites.

Since we had enough time, we rented a DVD, The Lathe of Heaven, based on an Ursula K. Le Guin book. This had actually been a TV movie on A&E, but the production values were so good, it was better than some of the low budget fare in theaters. The acting also was top notch.

The movie tells the story of a young man, George Orr (Lukas Haas), who's afraid to dream because every night his dreams change the world. We start out in a gray, futuristic landscape, and as he falls in love, the setting becomes brighter and full of color. Aspects of the political and social makeup of society change, as well.

Only a few people know his secret, such as Mannie (David Strathairn), a perennial friend who shows up in a protector sort of role again and again. When George was once in prison, Mannie was the guard. Or his doorman when he lives in an apartment building. And of course, they always become friends.

Since Mannie plays a fatherly role, you wonder if long in the past, many, many shifts ago, he might have forgotten this recurring character is his father.

And there is also a psychiatrist (James Caan) who discovers the secret and tries to manipulate him for his own purposes.

After watching something like this, I think about the dreams I have. It's a really good thing I don't change the world every time I dream. Take, for example, the dream I had the very night we saw that movie.

First, I would have a red convertible. I don't know if that's wishful thinking. I've never driven a red convertible, but there you have it.

The second thing is that a friend of mine would have a son. In the dream, the Dormouse had a son who was still an infant. He was no longer with the child's mother but had, perhaps, visitation rights or joint custody.

He had his son for the weekend, and wanted to take him to see Spider-Man 2. Another friend of ours, the White Rabbit, thought this was a little silly, because the baby was far too young to appreciate it. Perhaps they should do something else, the White Rabbit's implication being that the Dormouse was only interested in what he wanted to do.

While the Dormouse was off seeing Spider-Man 2 with his infant son, the White Rabbit and I wondered aloud who the mother was. Strangely enough, as close as we were to him, he hadn't told us. I imagine she must have been someone outside our immediate circle of friends.

If my dreams dictated the shape of the world, at least part of it would take place on a college campus which is sort of my archetypal college campus, appearing again and again in my dreams. On this campus there are several old buildings, kept more for their historical value than for any practical purpose.

And yet, in my dream last night, they were going to tear down the large, brick gothic monstrosity which sits on a hill in an old portion of campus, and on the grounds of which some of the college founders were buried.

I had brought my camera to take pictures of the impending destruction. But as the bulldozers neared, several friends of mine, people I knew from my hippie days, ran up on the steps, all of them wearing black armbands, and refused to move.

The futuristic world of my dream landscape contains far fewer shiny machines and gadgets and a lot more ruins: old buildings, falling softly apart in the woods. Then again, I am fascinated by abandoned buildings.

Celebrities would make frequent appearances for social visits or to invite me to see them perform. Only last week, I dreamt I was interviewing Michael Palin about a new show he was doing with Terry Jones. John Cleese had taken my business card and promised to get back to me later.

In my dreams, you would see many trees, small houses with secret rooms crammed full of tasteful china, antiques and books. I would continually be absent-mindedly enrolling myself in college courses, only to forget about them until time for the final exam.

I would occasionally see a former lover. Some, I would dismiss easily. My ex-husband has become a street bum in my dreamworld and occasionally begs me for change. I feel a sort of removed pity for him.

And last night, the Luser came through. I saw him at the building protest. He was watching from a couple floors up in a parking garage, wearing an expensive suit, smoking a cigarette and looking — as he often did — a bit cross.

I ran into him later. He was wearing jeans, and I asked him what he was doing now, how he got that suit. He told me he was getting part-time work as a stunt double. Then he kind of sneered at me, and we went our separate ways without further comment.

In my dreamworld, I still get around on bicycle sometimes, or by walking. And then there is also a close-packed urban world I've since realized must be Philly. But that's a place I visit more than a place where I live.

My dreamworld is populated both by friends and family from the waking world and friends I've only ever seen in dreams. But it is a place where every once in awhile, things go a bit haywire, a bit wonky. I might wake up on a spaceship, at Zero G's. Or in a never ending cemetery, searching for... something.

Or worst from all, recurrent dreams of Leechboy, whom I still strive to exorcise nearly 10 years after I left him in the waking world.

And in those dreams, my dog is as often a human daughter, blonde. I wonder if she would go back and forth between human and dog.

It wouldn't be so bad to wake up from a nightmare, knowing that all you had to do was go back to sleep and dream something better. Harder to face would be the dilemma George felt: the lack of connection. People could appear again and again in your dreams, and because the time and circumstances are different, you might forget who they were before. But that's what believers say happens during reincarnation. This is simply over a shorter time.

A waking world altered by my nightly dreams might be a very interesting one, perhaps even enjoyable. And maybe I could figure out a way to keep that red convertible.

Copyright 2004 by Alyce Wilson

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