Here's a story
'bout a man named David.
Who was living with four very lovely girls.
All of them had hair of (goldish) brown,
like their mother,
the middle one with curls.
Here's how it happened.
In my dream, I was trying to convince someone that The Brady Bunch was set in the San Francisco area. To support my opinion, I cited an episode (which might have been completely dream-based) in which some of the older Brady kids were driving from their home through the Bay area streets and they visited a shopping area near the wharfs.
(Now that I think about it, the "wharf set" was kind of similar to how they used to portray similar wharves on Days of Our Lives, but the less said about that, the better.)
Anyway, I'm describing how during this visit to the wharf, the Brady kids encountered a "crazy wharf lady" that is a weird combination of a sea hag and the crazy prospector character played by Jim Bachus when The Brady Bunch Goes West. As I'm describing this episode, suddenly I'm inside the episode as a ghostly observer, watching Marcia and Jan drive a totally groovy convertible to the wharf, exclaiming over something in a shop window which the Wharf Hag mutters in the background, and then they move on.
But my dream camera stays on the Hag as the Brady portion of the dream comes to an abrupt end. Now the Hag is listening to the whispered conversation of two military men who walk by describing the secret midnight test of a new gas dispersal weapon that is scheduled for this very night! The orb-like device will fly through the target area, releasing its toxic gas and killing everyone the gas comes into contact with. The military guys are unconcerned that the Wharf Hag is in the area because she is obviously crazy and not to be trusted if she tries to blow the whistle on their rogue, anti-Constitutional actions.
The scene shifts to an anonymous dude driving a white pickup truck down a highway at night. He doesn't know it, but he's about to be the focus of the rest of the dream. For as he stops his truck by the side of the road, the gas dispersing orb floats by at ankle level, silently trailing its deadly gas. When truck-driving dude opens his door and places his foot down on the ground, bathing his ankle in the lingering gas, he seals his fate.
He drives on, but the gas begins to take effect. His death is slow and hard to understand. The gas doesn't eat his flesh or cause him to bleed. He just slows loses control of his vision, his breathing, and ability to control the truck. He swerves back and forth on the road, narrowly missing a big tree here and there and then jumps the road, going into a suburban neighborhood. His truck barrels through a backyard and then the truck tips.
Sloooowly, ever so slowly (is my dream camera running in slo motion?) the truck tilt, slams on the driver-side door and slides across the grass.
Cut to early morning as the police investigate the dead man and the wrecked truck.
Up stroll Gil Grissom and NotWarrick from the CBS #1 scripted drama CSI. (It was at this point when Lynda interjected "You watch TOO MUCH TV!" as I described the dream to her on Saturday.) Grissom and NotWarrick are obviously here to determine how this truck driver died in such as unusual way, lending all of their forensic science and observational acumen to the task.
As is usual, Grissom soon determines that the guy died of some kind of gas poisoning and also deduces that the military must be behind it all. Unfortunately for him, the Rogue Military guys are also assisting in the investigation, standing around in the crowd that mills around the wrecked backyard.
In sped up dream time, we see that the military guys quickly begin seeding doubt about how Grissom figured this out so quickly. Could he, famous forensic investigator, Gil Grissom, they wonder publicly and suggestively, be behind the gas attack?
The other gullible investigators quickly agree that Grissom MUST be the perp and they quickly clap him in handcuffs. Grissom, in his buddhist-like way accepts their suspicions with equanimity and tells Not Warrick to keep going with the investigation. The evidence will soon enough clear him of all suspicion and the true killers will be identified.
And that is when the dream ended.
What does it all mean? Should I have been watching more CSI these past three years?
Well, I think it means I'm psychic because on Saturday, when I slid my way down the driveway slope the mailbox, I discovered this issue of Entertainment Weekly waiting for me.
1 comment:
Hmmm. How will crazy wharf lady come forward with the truth? How will she get anyone to listen to her? Will the Brady kids use their spunk and innate wholesomeness to expose the evil-doers?
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