I’m going to begin mining my old deadjournal (yes, I had one) for useful material here. DeadJournal was a clone of LiveJournal that used to be popular in the angry-kid-with-a-bad-haircut crowd; a lot of my old friends had one.
To start off, here is a dream I had a little before Halloween 2004.
I was working for TIME magazine. My boss was Jay Leno, with the chin but without the perkiness. My job was to put together the cover, typesetting, photographing, everything else. The current cover I was working on had a picture of a very lonely looking President George Bush behind his desk in the Oval Office, with the words “The Right Stuff?” in a large Condensed Helvetica typeface in black set in the left side. I was making high-gloss color laser proof copies of this to be sent to my Jay Leno doppelganger boss. In his office, I am briefly introduced to a Michael Moore-ish character, looking like some baseball tourist with a camera around his neck and a Detroit Tigers ball cap tilited a bit far too north for fashion or common sense. I leave the proof copy on my boss’s desk…
Later, the Michael Moore-ish guy offers me a job; turns out he was at my workplace asking about me. My boss gave me a good recommendation and he hires. What do we do, I ask? He’s a photographer for a video game publisher, and he travels the globe getting reference and source photos for video game animators. Realizing that I’ll be soon traveling the globe, going to exotic places, (Phnom Penh came to mind, for some reason) I celebrate by going to downtown Asheville and meeting most of my friends there. Only downtown Asheville was more like Green Park, near Buckingham Palace, except with the Vance monument still in the middle and the weird traffic pattern. Everyone was happy for me.
Later, I’m with someone (I forget who, now) at a restaurant in Saluda, on 176. On the left if you’re coming from I-26 going toward the town itself. The restaurant was Amish however. I could tell by how the women dressed and the curious High German accents. The strange thing however, was that there was a large white coffin on a stand in the dining area, with the lid propped about two inches open, just enough to see inside. I peered inside, and in it was a girl, beautiful, and looking very much alive but for the utter stillness and lack of breath. I paid my bill and left.