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Night before last... or I suppose I should say morning before last, since I have fallen back into the habit of sleeping late again... I had a dream that came in two parts. The first part involved me and all six members of 30 Odd Foot of Grunts in a high school band room somewhere, just playing instruments and jamming.
The second part might have been connected with the same school, but I'm not sure. I remember there being a bomb threat and the school having to be evacuated... and at some point in this part of the dream I apparently stopped being Anna and started being Alan Doyle of Great Big Sea. I distinctly remember having to put all my stuff into this taxi that I had just 'borrowed' for some reason, and six or seven different people trying to come up and make me take them somewhere because, well, I had a taxi.
Then the dream shifted and I was on foot, though I was still Alan Doyle (there wasn't any sense of me-as-Anna-in-Alan-Doyle's body here) and for no reason I could fathom the city that the school was in turned out to be Honolulu. I wound up trudging around through what looked like the food court part of a mall but which, at least according to the signs, was the entrance to a hospital. (I suspect that the "trudging lost around Honolulu" part comes from Mr. Doyle having written in real life on greatbigsea.com about being one of the "world's most directionally challenged people".)
And that's when I woke up.
This morning I had another dream with Mr. Doyle in it. It took place in Newfoundland -- or at least, some fantasy version of Newfoundland that exists only in my head. No real shocker here. The general scenario seemed to be that I'd come to Newfoundland to visit for some reason.
I remember being in a tiny little hamlet of some kind, about the size of Gravel Switch: i.e., about 200-some-odd people. Given that Alan Doyle was in fact there, it would lead one to believe that it was Petty Harbor, except there wasn't a harbor in sight. I don't remember the name of the place ever coming up. But I do remember a general single-street kind of layout, and some sort of small river nearby that had a little riverwalk down off the side of the street. I remember me being in some sort of bed-and-breakfast-y type building.
I remember looking around in wonder at the hills and trees that surrounded the place -- and that it was winter, at least in that exact moment in the dream (I don't remember a particular sense of 'winter' anywhere else). Winter enough that the distant trees were lightly dusted with snow.
I remember Alan Doyle being there, except he was just there as "Alan Doyle" and not "lead singer of a famous band". For some bizarre reason I remember him having issues with his vision; he had to wear bifocals, and he was getting bifocal contacts at some indeterminate point in the future. I can remember an impression of walking somewhere with him, along what might have been a dirt road by a fence. And at some point in the dream someone told me or I overheard something about young Alan having a habit of turning animals loose when he'd been a kid, and that he'd "gone off and formed a band". This was the only point in the dream that I remember connecting Mr. Doyle with what he actually does in real life; I think there was something about me and my guitar in there, but my dream-self didn't play on camera in the dream. There was just this sense that I had my guitar and had been quietly playing elsewhere, possibly because I knew Doyle was in the vicinity and I didn't want to play his songs where I might be heard.
Wherever this place was, I apparently liked it even aside from the presence of Mr. Doyle; my general recollection is of a tiny homey place.
Then the dream shifted, and my sisters were there... again as children, which is how they often show up in my dreams since my subconscious still envisions them as ages 6 and 4. Becky, the younger one, had something happen to her that involved breaking or straining her wrist, and we had to take her out of the hamlet to a hospital.
I distinctly remember having to drive somewhere to get to some sort of light rail station, and being in a long line to get onto the actual conveyance. Becky was in a stroller. And all I had on me in terms of money for buying tickets was a fifty and a couple of ones... in American money. So I had to fill out a form to be able to get a ticket... except that Dar was there and urging me not to fill out the form. I had the sense that it was maybe a credit card application pretending to be a ticket form, or something.
And then I woke up.
The second part might have been connected with the same school, but I'm not sure. I remember there being a bomb threat and the school having to be evacuated... and at some point in this part of the dream I apparently stopped being Anna and started being Alan Doyle of Great Big Sea. I distinctly remember having to put all my stuff into this taxi that I had just 'borrowed' for some reason, and six or seven different people trying to come up and make me take them somewhere because, well, I had a taxi.
Then the dream shifted and I was on foot, though I was still Alan Doyle (there wasn't any sense of me-as-Anna-in-Alan-Doyle's body here) and for no reason I could fathom the city that the school was in turned out to be Honolulu. I wound up trudging around through what looked like the food court part of a mall but which, at least according to the signs, was the entrance to a hospital. (I suspect that the "trudging lost around Honolulu" part comes from Mr. Doyle having written in real life on greatbigsea.com about being one of the "world's most directionally challenged people".)
And that's when I woke up.
This morning I had another dream with Mr. Doyle in it. It took place in Newfoundland -- or at least, some fantasy version of Newfoundland that exists only in my head. No real shocker here. The general scenario seemed to be that I'd come to Newfoundland to visit for some reason.
I remember being in a tiny little hamlet of some kind, about the size of Gravel Switch: i.e., about 200-some-odd people. Given that Alan Doyle was in fact there, it would lead one to believe that it was Petty Harbor, except there wasn't a harbor in sight. I don't remember the name of the place ever coming up. But I do remember a general single-street kind of layout, and some sort of small river nearby that had a little riverwalk down off the side of the street. I remember me being in some sort of bed-and-breakfast-y type building.
I remember looking around in wonder at the hills and trees that surrounded the place -- and that it was winter, at least in that exact moment in the dream (I don't remember a particular sense of 'winter' anywhere else). Winter enough that the distant trees were lightly dusted with snow.
I remember Alan Doyle being there, except he was just there as "Alan Doyle" and not "lead singer of a famous band". For some bizarre reason I remember him having issues with his vision; he had to wear bifocals, and he was getting bifocal contacts at some indeterminate point in the future. I can remember an impression of walking somewhere with him, along what might have been a dirt road by a fence. And at some point in the dream someone told me or I overheard something about young Alan having a habit of turning animals loose when he'd been a kid, and that he'd "gone off and formed a band". This was the only point in the dream that I remember connecting Mr. Doyle with what he actually does in real life; I think there was something about me and my guitar in there, but my dream-self didn't play on camera in the dream. There was just this sense that I had my guitar and had been quietly playing elsewhere, possibly because I knew Doyle was in the vicinity and I didn't want to play his songs where I might be heard.
Wherever this place was, I apparently liked it even aside from the presence of Mr. Doyle; my general recollection is of a tiny homey place.
Then the dream shifted, and my sisters were there... again as children, which is how they often show up in my dreams since my subconscious still envisions them as ages 6 and 4. Becky, the younger one, had something happen to her that involved breaking or straining her wrist, and we had to take her out of the hamlet to a hospital.
I distinctly remember having to drive somewhere to get to some sort of light rail station, and being in a long line to get onto the actual conveyance. Becky was in a stroller. And all I had on me in terms of money for buying tickets was a fifty and a couple of ones... in American money. So I had to fill out a form to be able to get a ticket... except that Dar was there and urging me not to fill out the form. I had the sense that it was maybe a credit card application pretending to be a ticket form, or something.
And then I woke up.