Live from the ether

I don’t ever record my dreams.  This one was vivid and when I awoke it was morning, so I thought I would go ahead and jot it down.  It stands out because it was one of the few times I was actually able to play an musical instrument in my dreams…


Karen and I had some kind of land--a house or something.  I got a job in the area as a plumber…

I was trying to hang a pipe on a board--I ran into much difficulty as the pipe was ten feet long and nothing was cooperating.  I was trying to hang it on a wall—I was up a ladder and was trying to keep it steady and level.

There was a guy I was trying to hire, but we were waiting for approval from my boss.

Gerry was there briefly. I told him the galvie nails were no good for the pipe hangers I had--this bewildered him.

My work then fell off the wall.  The new guy and I tried to re-hang it, but he didn't quite get what I wanted to do.

Karen was across the street talking to the new guy’s wife and some toothless hag in a truck whom I didn't approve--I went to see what was going on, Karen said to nevermind but I should get back across the street.

There were people there rummaging thru our yard, like it was the dumps

I went over, and a Russian man who was all wet had an old budweiser rug and a metal oblong bucket with a hole in the bottom like it was old.  I told him ten dollars for the rug and fifty cents for the bucket--he said ok and gave me some change and a sawbuck that was all wet out of his pocket.

Then, two boys (one in a wheelchair) came to me with an old banjo--they offered me fifty cents and I said ten dollars--they looked surprised, but gave me a banknote of some value and I felt bad for saying ten bucks 'cause of the wheelchair kid and gave them the banjo (I took the banknote though)

The non-wheelchair kid was happy to have it--they both went to a truck, and I met the kid around the back of it.  He was playing it like a guitar (it was tuned like a guitar)  I told him it would have to be retuned if he was going to play it correctly.  I knew the short string was a “G”--I thought it was in fourths after that and told him so, but wasn't sure (I told him that too.)

We then were near a porch where there were older guys playing bluegrass type stuff--one guy had a dobro that was about an inch thick, and he could play so-so.  He was dressed kind of like Strother Martin in “Cool Hand Luke”--but he had a straw hat...

Whenever I would look at them playing they would stop--I was an outsider.  I told the man it was okay, that I played too.  He laughed like he was mocking me and handed me his dobro so I could put my money where my mouth was (he didn't use those words, but that was the feeling I got…)

He gave me the dobro without handing me a steel or picks--I said I needed a steel if I was gonna play.  He hesitated, then handed me a short thick bullet shaped steel, maybe two inches long and one and a half thick.  I wondered how they could play with such shabby and odd equipment...the dobro was a pale blue and felt like one of those bumpy metal ones available, but it was thin

So, with everyone watching (there were probably five or six in the room (it's a room now, not a porch--I guess it always was a room)) I decided to play “Panhandle Rag.”  The dobro man laughed.  At first, I thought the man's laughter was borne from derision.

No, I impressed   him, and made it through the tune flawlessly.  By that I mean I made no more mistakes than I normally would have.  You see, in dreams often when I try to play music I am faced with limbs that don’t respond to commands, or the inability to remember how to play…

Folks then knew I was on the up and up, and started milling about, going outside and such.  
There were still maybe three folks still in the room, seated.  One man was looking right at me, waiting for another tune.  I attempted “Cherokee Shuffle”, and after I played four bars, the man started to sing it.  The dobro man went outside after a minute or two of this.

I got tired of standing and tried to sit on the floor.  It was awkward at first, then I finally made it to my butt.  I tried to work out the song with the man who was trying to sing.  He didn't know the words, and I was trying to show him slowly how it went.

After a few minutes, the dobro man came back in the room.  I saw a couple of people put on their thin dobros.  I was on the floor with my back to the arm of a sofa.  The man came over and sat on the sofa.  I handed him his dobro back--he motioned 'no' with his hands and I insisted he take it back and show me something.

He asked me if I liked his steel.  It had “Taylor” on the bottom of it, and “Tut Taylor" stamped on the side.  Tut Taylor doesn't use a steel like this--they don't make them that short--it wouldn't work with anything stamped on the playing surface...

I handed him his steel. He started to play…


I woke up.