------------------------------------------------------------
Technology/Dreams, (sdf.org), 11/02/2018
------------------------------------------------------------
From time to time I complain about the fact that the vast
majority of my dreams are set on planet Earth. Mostly I
complain to my wife, who will listen to such nonsense, but I
may have mentioned it elsewhere as well. I can almost always
recall my dreams the morning after I have them, and some
dreams I can recall as if they were memories, years later.
They're more than usually set on Earth.
Last night was different: I had a dream that took place in
space. Specifically, I was piloting a ship. It would have
been nice if the dream took place on the surface of some
other planet, but now I'm getting demanding; at least it was
off Earth.
In my dream, me and another fellow (not sure who) were
traveling around, when he decided that he no longer wanted
to do whatever it was that we were doing. What he really
wanted was to be a farmer. Ok, that's just fine, I wanted to
be supportive. So, I flew us to a planet (was it Earth? I
don't know) with some greenery, where I knew that there was
a farm that was looking for hired hands. I recall how
pleasant it was, after so long, to be cutting through the
thick atmosphere of a green planet, powerful thrusters
struggling against the gravity. With tremendous force my
ship plowed it's way through the dense air, until we spotted
the farm. I brought the ship down for as gentle a landing as
possible.
We both deplaned (what a stupid word) and hiked from where
we had landed, through some large gates that were the
entrace for the farm, and toward the house. A farmer met us
half-way between the gates and the house, and listened to my
friend's proposition. A space jockey turned farmer was a
normal enough thing, apparently, and he hired him on the
spot. We were just chewing the fat, my mind wandering to
where I would go next, when a look of terror washed over the
farmer's face. I turned around and saw a massive, rapidly
swirling tornado in the distance.
(I hate tornado dreams. For some reason I've always had
them, even before I moved to the midwest. I'm not really
afraid-I think-of tornadoes when I'm awake; that is, I
don't have an irrational, consuming fear of them. I would
respect one if I saw one, but they don't occupy my thoughts.
I've even had fire tornadoes in my dreams.)
The farmer led us (half the time I spell that "lead."
Lead, lead, read, read, red, bead, bed... Darn you, English)
to his house. Upon entering it, I realize that it was a
mobile home of the tin-can variety, and I became alarmed.
Would this thing protect us? I voiced my concern, but there
was no where better to go. I searched for some central
location with a stronger wall structure. In my mind I was
thinking, "what if my ship gets damaged? I'll have to become
a farm hand too, until I can pay for repairs. I guess that
wouldn't be too bad."
And then I woke up. Tornado dreams always tend to wake me
up. They make me very uncomfortable. Stupid thing, now I
don't know how the dream ends. Did the dream tfurrows make
it off-planet? Maybe the tornado blew a different direction.
Or, was his ship damaged extensively, forcing him into a
life of farm work with his friend? That might not be so bad,
at least he wouldn't be alone. Maybe he felt bad about
leaving his friend there anyway. Perhaps his friend would
tire of the life and pine for space once again. They could
save up together, and make their way back twice as fast.
Would anyone in the galaxy miss him while he was plowing and
picking and sweating? What if the planet was in a binary
star system? Were tornadoes common there?
Oh well, at least I can file this dream away as a rare
voyage outside of my own planet. Hopefully I'll have more,
sans tornadoes.
