Night. Berkeley. I'm with my sweetie Jay; other friends are near us, in a crowd of perhaps a thousand. Concert, political rally? If so, it hasn't begun. We're waiting--for what?

Silver streaks across the sky. Weird sounds--"Pew, pew." Fireworks? Meteors? Shells, missiles, as in Gaza? I think bitterly "We almost deserve it. We supplied the bombs getting dropped on Gaza."

People freeze, then panic. Jay heads toward a high point to assess the situation. I know he'll go seek his daughter Josie. I think "Don't leave me!"

Later, the crowd's broken into several groups. Jay hands me a script. I must speak to the crowd, to calm them. I'm not the sort to take charge, but now I have to. I bang on a bucket to get their attention. But then the script dissolves in my hand! I must improvise.

"Think of what matters to you. Check your neighbors and make sure kids & older people don't get left behind."

Later, on the Berkeley campus. Rooms full of scientists and students--oblivious to the crisis.

I head for the stairs. Crowded with panicky people. I urge them "Slow down, don't slip. Do you want to get trampled?" They do slow a bit.

Run into my friend Carolyn, in a long floral dress with an almost bridal train, upset that people are stepping on the fringe. She made a date with Jay, and is determined to go despite the crisis. I'm doubtful but say "Have fun." She answers snarkily--does she think I'm jealous?

The stairs, I know, represent hierarchy--everyone in Berkeley cares so much about their rank and level. None of them are thinking of the big picture--finding out what the threat is, and coping as a community. I'm sick of it--I want out! I seek Jay & Josie, thinking "they're the only more-or-less ADULTS in this town!"

NOTE IN THE MORNING

• Berkeleyites obsessed with status, judged by political correctness: that is pretty much how I see them.
• Carolyn's train: is this a pun on "training"?
• Back in the Cold War, I was walking with a friend one night on the Berkeley campus. There was a sudden weird wind, then dead silence. She and I looked at each other and said "Is this it?" and waited for the world to end. The dream clearly dredged up this old memory and used it for... what?

World Dream Bank homepage - Art gallery - New stuff - Introductory sampler, best dreams, best art - On dreamwork - Books
Indexes: Subject - Author - Date - Names - Places - Art media/styles
Titles: A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - IJ - KL - M - NO - PQ - R - Sa-Sh - Si-Sz - T - UV - WXYZ
Email: wdreamb@yahoo.com - Catalog of art, books, CDs - Behind the Curtain: FAQs, bio, site map - Kindred sites