Dream Journal 2019-03-20: Music For A Road Trip
My youngest sister and I began this dream at some random hotel/cabin/inn place somewhere in Missouri. We were traveling somewhere, and it was time for us to get back on the road. I announced that it was time for us to collect our worldly possessions and strike out for wherever we were going.
For some reason, I had decided prior to the events of this dream that the best way to store my possessions for ease of travel was to dump everything out of my backpack and shove it as far underneath the hotel bed as possible. In the morning I would retrieve all my stuff, which involved flailing around on the floor and trying to wiggle enough of my body under the bed to reach the various small items that had suddenly become lodged in very inconvenient and dusty places under the bed.
As is traditional for dreams when I have to collect my possessions, the stuff I collect is usually inappropriate for the task at hand. In this case, here’s the crap I had to dredge out from under the bed:
Approximately 40 granola bars
5 AA batteries (dead)
One pair of socks (mismatched)
One plastic toy soldier
A yo-yo
Handful of dirt
With all of our stuff safely stowed, my sister and I return to our road trip. The weather mostly gray and rainy, and we drive for the entire day headed nowhere in particular. Once night falls, the rain reduces to a drizzle. Multicolored light from signs and buildings reflects in the puddles along the street. It’s late and no one is around.
I turn on the radio and hear a new song that I know instantly will be one of my favorites. The song starts with a simple bassline consisting of two or three droning notes played on a really crunchy synthesizer. In real life, the synths kind of remind me of portions of Richter’s “Surface Runner 388″ except the real-life song doesn’t sound grungy enough.
Drums make an appearance in the dream song. They’re lively and I know this song is gonna be a banger. I ask my sister if she’s heard this song before, and luck is with me tonight because she knows what the song is.
“It called ‘Pirates of Parsimony’ by Sonic Nowhere,” she tells me.
This is wonderful news! Now I can look this song up the next time I have a wifi connection! BUT THEN: weird sounds start creeping into the song and it turns out to be my wife’s alarm clock. Another unpleasant realization comes after waking: this song and this band don’t exist.
But the one good thing about this dream is that I had to look up what the word “parsimony” meant. It’s an extreme unwillingness to spend money or use resources. So at least I learned something!