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2003-08-04 - 3:24 p.m.

I had a dream last night that really stuck with me. It's pretty rare that happens for me, but even the feelings of it are lingering. And it was such an odd combination of memories from high school marching band, Brooklyn and my mother.

I was set to go to a marching band competition but hadn't played in years. I was pretty sure I could still do it though so I wasn't worried about the playing... I was worried about getting there. I was taking a train and somehow my baggage ended up on another train (it was actually the Q train... my express train in Brooklyn) and I was on another train (the local D train). When I got off at my stop, I kept waiting for my luggage to arrive, but it didn't. My mother though ended up at the stop and asked where my clarinet was. "It's on the other train. Is it stopping here?"

Then she goes... "No... that train went on to Paducah." (Paducah was the closest large town to Possum Trot when I was growing up. Well. I guess it still IS the closest large town. Anyway.) So. I had to get on the Q to go to Paducah, pick up my clarinet and then take the D train back to wherever it was that the band competition was.

When I got there, I realized I had gotten the wrong clarinet. It was older than mine and didn't have the kinds of reeds that I liked to use. But I knew that my clarinet had probably been stolen and there'd be no way for me to get it back. I went into the competition and had to sit something like third chair because the clarinet made me play so poorly. Really stuck in my craw because I had been first chair material.

And. What I love about that WHOLE dream. Is. It's just like me to have my symbolism be so literal. Oh. You mean your BAGGAGE got on the EXPRESS train to BACK HOME and you are on the LOCAL/SLOW train to a competition where you're THIRD chair but could have been FIRST chair if you had your BAGGAGE TOGETHER.





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