I'm biking toward the beach in Santa Cruz, California, on a path by a fenced housing tract, right by the San Lorenzo River. It's a lonely fenced bikepath with only one side gate, midway; I always feel a bit trapped. There's a muddy sticky stretch in the middle, where the pavement fails. I usually power through it.

But today I notice a new side gate, and slow, curious. I turn off, and find myself on a cul-de-sac lined with abandoned houses. Foreclosures! One or two are just foundations--burned, razed, never built? Not all the houses are empty--one has a smoking chimney, another a car in the driveway. But clearly a recession-battered housing tract, half-abandoned, settlers clinging...

At first I feel uneasy--fear crime, looters? It's a bit lost-looking. But then I really look and put my feelers out. It's quiet, and the lived-in houses look nice and friendly. In the heart of the recession, this is the worst it'll ever look! I think "Ideal time to buy!" My sister Miriel's been looking. Well, talking about looking, and mostly not looking because Santa Cruz is too expensive. Maybe this'd get her off her butt. "I should call her. Nice houses, dirt cheap, just a quarter mile from her old house! Ideal." And solidarity with the neighbors--for they'll be grateful to have neighbors. In hard times, neighbors are good.

IN THE MORNING

• In hard times, neighbors are good: I just watched GLEE. A jerky consultant pushed the Glee Club singers to compete not cooperate, making them miserable... till they rebel. My dream agrees. At least in the arts, look for community not competition.
• ACTION: Call Miriel and mention it--maybe it's literal and she should hunt right along the riverbank. Is there a tract she's overlooked?

A MONTH LATER

Well, life happened, and I put off calling day after day... so today Miriel called me. "I just found a tiny house I liked in a quiet little tract I never knew about, right on the banks of the San Lorenzo River. Am I crazy to buy this? I mean, it's a recession!"

I started to laugh. Didn't even need to call!

My real point here is that lots of dreams are uncertain or weak psychic hits like this. Was this chance, ESP or a subliminal prompt? I've seen Santa Cruz, if not that part of the riverbank; did my mental map notice its own blank spot? Miriel's description of the house didn't perfectly match my dream; just close.

Notice: whatever the source of the dream, it's sure mundane! Not psychological (despite my Jungian blather the next morning), not mystical, just... useful. Even if I failed to pass on the tip. Any theory explaining ESP needs to account for this. They aren't all woo-woo. Not even in Santa Cruz.

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