And this....
if you don't like 60s rock solo guitar improv, at least skip ahead to 4:55 for one of the greatest instrumental riffs of all time. I put these last 3 min on all the mix tapes I made. (the original video I put up here had the first 4:55 min of improv. this one starts Villanova Junction at sec 0:10)
On the video you can tell that this is one of the first times that this song has been performed live or even rehearsed among the current band members. As Jimi goes into the main verse, you can see him make eye contact with bassist Billy Cox and show him what the chord progression is as he goes along. But despite the song's unpracticed quality (or perhaps precisely because of it), it turns out as an incredibly beautiful and inspiring song that only Jimi could have created and performed.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
If I could travel in time, I'd go to 1969
I was just thinking about my childhood and was curious about how I could have been such a Woodstock fan but I mean to a really extreme extent. To the degree that was kind of ridiculous for a young kid in the late 80s. I mean I didn't think of myself as a hippie or draw peace signs all over my notebooks or anything. I just remember being a huge "Woodstock-lover". Strange, I know. I guess, apart from Hendrix being my all-time idol (far and above any profession athlete), things were just different back then (the late 60s, I mean). Perhaps it has something to do with how much media promoted the concept of the "generation of the 60s" and everything, but that can't explain it entirely. I don't know. But I just found this, and honestly I can't think of anything that I've heard, read, seen or witnessed recently that effects me to such a great extent. Honestly, it's 8 minutes that makes shivers run through my whole body. I can't help myself. It gets me every time.
funny jokes (and wasting time emailing with your friends)
This is going to be the longest blog post ever...
So I had a few laughs today with my friends who live in Budapest, Galicia and here in Madrid. The following is a transcript of our email correspondence. It all started with these Tshirts that we made for our friends in Budapest. well, you'll figure it out...
Dora to me, Hogan
Apr 27 (2 days ago)
Nick, I cant believe that you actually got the shirts done! You are A-W-E-S-O-M-E. Hogan could not stop laughing when I called him (after he sent these photos). I cant wait to get home and wear mine. SO funny. What good memories.
Thank you so much for these!
XO lots and lots of love from Bp.
D. (and Hogan)
Reply
Nick Weber to Maria, Chad, Dora, Hogan
Apr 27 (2 days ago)
I'm happy you like them!! We had a lot of fun making them, too. The only thing they told us at the shop is be sure to turn them inside out when you wash them (and cold water, of course). I think I'm going to send these photos to Chad, but I'm sure he'll be jealous that I didn't make one for him!! But he should see how cute Lua looks on a Tshirt.
good times!
Nick
Reply
Dora to me, Hogan, Maria, Chad
Apr 27 (2 days ago)
he should be jealous. Did you make one for yourself?? its just Team Hayes that has them??
D.
Reply
Chad to Dora, me, Hogan, Maria
7:44 AM (16 hours ago)
I'm green green green with envy. Go team hayes.
Chad
Reply
Dora to Chad, me, Hogan, Maria
10:11 AM (14 hours ago)
that reminds me of a joke.....
do you remember Myrtle's joke? the dinner party where you have to come dressed as an emotion...and one guy is wearing all green for envy, another woman all red for passion, and then a blackman walks in naked with a pear on the end of his d"ck. What are you the hostess asked? "Me?" Im fu+kin dis pear"
ha ha ha.
Reply
Nick to Dora, Chad, Hogan, Maria
10:22 AM (14 hours ago)
and we're back to the naked black man topic. you still haven't explained what's the difference, Dora. And I don't see why the joke requires a black man except for your (and inevitably, Myrtle's) excitement at the thought of a naked black man. it could just have easily been a white guy "fuckin dis pear"... or a latino... or a korean... or even a jew... (that's not racist, is it?)
I liked the joke, though. naked black man, or no naked black man.
btw. I think it's better to write "black man" not "blackman".
just throwin that out there.
Reply
Dora to me, Chad, Hogan, Maria
10:26 AM (13 hours ago)
there is a simple reason: white people dont say "dis" they say "this".
Booya.
and I totally have blackfriends. I love blackpeople!
Reply
Nick to Dora, Chad, Hogan, Maria
11:06 AM (13 hours ago)
yeah. maybe. but what about Koreans...? You could have done it with a pakistani. I can easily imagine a pakistani saying "dis"
So that reminds me of another joke:
So Jake and Wendy are in love and so they get married. Jake, smart guy that he is, thinks of the greatest wedding gift anyone could give for his wife and gets her name tattooed on his you know what. The tattoo artist does the old wrap-around job so that when you look at it from above, all you can see is the W and the Y. Jake and Wendy are more in love than ever.
After the wedding, Jake and Wendy head to Jamaica for their honeymoon. Upon arriving at the airport in Jamaica, Jake goes in to use the rest room. He steps up to a urinal next to a man who is obviously a local (he knows this because of the dreadlocks and the deep deep tan). As Jake is urinating, he happens to take a glance over at the man’s you know what at the neighboring urinal and sees the exact same “W” and “Y” tattooed on his. Jake says, “Hey man! What a coincidence! Check it out, my girlfriend is named Wendy, too!” The Jamaican laughs and says, “Ha ha. Good one, mahn! Actually mine says, WELCOME TO JAMICA MAN! HAVE A NICE DAY”
Ha ha.
Oh yeah, and then the Pakistani says, “check it out! I’m “fuckin’ dis pear!”
See. It works. Try it, next time. See if you don’t get a good laugh.
Reply
Dora to me, Chad, Hogan, Maria
11:14 AM (13 hours ago)
Oh My God Nick, that is The Oldest most clichéd joke in The Book! They even have a Hungarian version that reads: "Üdvözlöm Jamaikán és egy nagyon jó napot kívánok Önnek!"
and the Pakistaniman at the end of it, saying "and I'm fukin dis pear" does not make any sense whatsoever.
there is another version of my previous joke and that has the blackman sayings: "Im fukin dis custard" I like the pear one better personally.
p.s. Im losing it over here and I should be working.
Dora to me
11:15 AM (13 hours ago)
ps, why are you so obsessed with the blackman's "you know what"? Are you trying to get to the bottom of the "once you go black, you never go back" theory?
Reply
Nick to Dora
11:25 AM (13 hours ago)
I'm not trying to get to the bottom of anything. just, you know, keepin it real.
Reply
Dora to me
show details 11:29 AM (13 hours ago)
yeah whatever. im not the one sending obama books to all the blackpeople I know.
Keep Kickin it.
D.
Reply to all
Nick to Dora, Chad, Hogan, Maria
11:31 AM (13 hours ago)
work - schmerk!
oh really!? "The Oldest in The Book" huh? "The Book" with capital letters. So I guess you must have a copy of "The Book" and happened to look up "The Oldest" joke. And the pakistaniman makes tons of sense. Don't you get it? He's fucking despair. "Despair" as in sadness, depression. duh!!
and since when is dis custard an emotion!
Reply
Dora to me
11:36 AM (13 hours ago)
NICK, dont you get it? "dis custard" equals "disgusted" in blackman language. thats an emotion. I feel "disgusted."
Reply
Nick to Dora
12:18 PM (12 hours ago)
I worked for half an hour, so now I can go back to arguing with you.
your definition of an emotion sucks. according to you, if it can complete the sentence, "I feel..." than it's an emotion. what about "hung over" I feel "hung over" is "hung over" an emotion? what about "like puking"? I feel "like puking". "like puking" doesn't seem like much of an emotion to me.
if he can be "fuckin dis custard" he ought to be able to be "fuckin dis combobulated" and he'd have a, you know, combobulated at the end of his you know what.
Reply to all
Nick to Dora, Chad, Hogan, Maria
12:32 PM (12 hours ago)
hey, I got another one.
this guy and his wife are out golfing and the guy gets a horrible lie off the fairway right behind this gigantic barn. His wife say, "ya know, I bet if we open the front and back doors of the barn you could shoot right thru it and make it to the green." He's not sure, but decides to try it. They open the doors and he takes his shot and it makes it thru the front doors of the barn but hits the inside of the barn, ricochets back out, hits his wife in the head, and kills her.
A few weeks later, he's out with one of his buddies, and on the same hole gets the exact same crappy lie behind the barn. His buddy says, "ya know, I bet if we open the front and back doors of the barn you could shoot right thru it and make it to the green." The guys say, "nah. last time I tried that, I got a triple bogey."
Ha Ha Ha. I'm so goddamn funny, I kill myself.
Nick to Dora
12:41 PM (12 hours ago)
hey Dora,
have you heard of Thao & the get down stay down?
I'm going to send you their album if you haven't heard it cuz it's awesome!!
Reply
Dora to me
1:14 PM (11 hours ago)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disgust
Reply to all
Dora to me, Chad, Hogan, Maria
1:15 PM (11 hours ago)
I should really get that considering Im in the golf industry.
Reply
Dora to me
1:16 PM (11 hours ago)
NO! Send it to me! Rather that than an Obama book (cuz Im not a blacklady of course)
Reply
Nick to Dora
1:20 PM (11 hours ago)
yeah. maybe. but he's not "fuckin dis cust". He's "fuckin dis custard." you could change the joke so he has a pizza crust on his you know what and then he'd say, "Me? I'm fuckin dis crust" because, you know, maybe in blackpeople language that means disgust.
Reply
Nick to Dora
1:26 PM (11 hours ago)
although you may not see it at first, what I just wrote makes perfect sense. The green dude didn't come dressed in green because he was "envious" no. he was envy. and the red lady wasn't passionate. she was "passion." Hey that makes me think of another way you could do the joke. have the pakistaniman have a passion fruit on his you know what and say "I'm fuckin dis passion" and then the "fruit" part a little bit under his breath.
oh god. now that's a good one. where do I come up with this genius material?
Reply
Dora to me
1:26 PM (11 hours ago)
Im rolling on the floor laughing! STOP.
but then it would have to be "Im fuckin dis pizzacrust" and that doesnt make much sense now does it. lets stick with "dis pear". That works MUCH better...
OMG, I got a NEW ONE!!!! How about, blackman, naked, with a parrot on his you know what..."What? what am I? Isnt it obvious? Im fuckin dis parrot" (desperate) GET IT?
HA HA HA
Reply
Nick to Dora
1:40 PM (11 hours ago)
that IS a good one. unfortunately since it's an animate object, he couldn't just have the parrot hangin out on his you know what, just kickin it. He'd actually have to be fuckin it which, you know, might be kind of hard. On the parrot, I mean. which actually just reminds me of another joke. I'll tell you in a minute.
"dis crust"
Reply
Dora to me
1:45 PM (11 hours ago)
Ahmmm, who did you just send me a picture of just now? that is fuckin dis custard!
Dispassion!! I think my disparrot is good. cant wait for the joke.
Reply
Dora to me
1:50 PM (10 hours ago)
but the joke goes..." I am greeeen, greeeen with envy" (which equals to him being envious!
But you DO have a point.
Reply
Nick to Dora
1:57 PM (10 hours ago)
wait. are you trying to imitate Chad?
hey. do you think Chad really is envious or is trying to be sarcastic (the bastard)?
sometimes, when he's really hurt, he lashes out with sarcasm.
it's a defense mechanism of his.
Reply
Nick to Dora
show details 1:54 PM (10 hours ago)
OK.
so this guy goes home to his wife carrying a sheep under his arm. He says, "so honey, this is the pig I've been fucking all these years".
His wife says, "that's not a pig, you dumbass, that's a sheep."
He looks at her and says, "I wasn't talkin' to you!"
you have GOT to get this one.
you could probably substitute a parrot for the sheep.
and even make the guy a pakistaniman. or if you really want, a naked blackman. That would make it even funnier, I'm sure.
sorry I haven't replied about the Obama books and the blackpeople. It was actually really funny. I guess apart from being really funny, it probably kinda hurt a little. deep down, you know. that's why I haven't brought it back up. But, just so you know: good one!!
Reply
Dora to me
show details 2:02 PM (10 hours ago)
no, I think Chad knows the joke and thats why he said it! But...hjaving said that if I was Chad, I would be really envious! did you see the pics I uploaded on facebook wearing the shirt?
Reply
Nick to Dora
2:07 PM (10 hours ago)
yeah. you look awesome!! I'm glad you like the shirt.
Reply
Dora to me
2:13 PM (10 hours ago)
oh I look awesome? hahahahahah, I had just rolled out of bed :).
Reply to all
Chad to Dora, me, Hogan, Maria
2:47 PM (10 hours ago)
Get to work y'all.
Reply
Dora to Chad, me, Hogan, Maria
2:50 PM (10 hours ago)
stop being green with envy chad!
Reply to all
Hogan to Dora, me, Maria
2:59 PM (9 hours ago)
Just wanted to chime in here in the "dis" versus "this" issue.
As a one-time English teacher here in Budapest, I've noted that very few Hungarians can pronounce the 'th'- sound. They often use a 'd' in place of 'th-'.
I actually think the joke is funnier with a Central European accent.
Reply
Nick to Hogan, Dora, Maria
3:00 PM (9 hours ago)
yeah. but you're kind of a nerd.
Reply
Nick to Hogan, Dora, Maria
show details 3:03 PM (9 hours ago)
and how many pakistanis have you taught english to? trust me. they say "dis." and what's funnier than an old pakistani sheep herder with a turban on his head and a pear on his you know what? trust me. I know the best way to tell jokes.
Reply
Dora to me, Hogan
show details 3:06 PM (9 hours ago)
old pakistani sheep herder????? that wouldnt make sense at all---he would SO not be invited to an "emotion" party. Duh.
(I took Maria off the distro list because I think we are annoying her.)
Reply
Nick to Dora, Hogan
3:17 PM (9 hours ago)
she has a busy day today, so that's why she probably hasn't replied to anything. doesn't mean we were annoying her. She did give me a little crap about not getting any work done. which is oh, so untrue. I made a couple graphs and put them into my thesis.
and who WOULDN'T invite an old pakistani sheep herder to an emotion party? especially if he was going to come with a pear or even better a passion (fruit) on his you know what.
Who has "emotion parties" anyway?
sounds lame.
Reply to all
Hogan to me, Dora, Maria, Chad
3:17 PM (9 hours ago)
Wait. So the guy is naked, and he's wearing a turban. Now I get it. It's funny 'cause it's true.
Reply
Dora to me, Hogan
3:22 PM (9 hours ago)
Emotion party sounds AWESOME--except I'd have trouble coming up with a costume. You kids have it EASY!!!!! you could be fuckin ANYTHING....
I have an idea for Thanksgiving!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Parrot is the best!
Reply
Nick to Hogan, Dora, Maria, Chad
3:44 PM (9 hours ago)
that's right. so true.
That's why the joke with guy and the sheep under his arm and the "honey, here's the pig I've been fuckin..." is so funny.
funny cuz it's true.
Reply
Nick to Hogan, Dora, Maria, Chad
5:04 PM (7 hours ago)
Dora,
I've been thinking about it (and actually going over it out loud) and your parrot joke just doesn't work. You see, even if he was "fuckin' dis parrot", nobody pronounces desperate like that. Desperate is what we call in spain an esdrújula meaning that the 3rd syllable from the end is the stressed syllable. DES-per-ate. Nobody says des-Per-ate. unless they're retarded. and then, maybe they'd get the joke. but I kind of doubt it. You see, even if retarded people might pronounce "desperate" the wrong way, that doesn't mean they would understand the joke. But they might laugh, anyway. So unless you intended the joke with the parrot to be for an audience of retarded people, I don't think you'd get many laughs.
sorry.
try it with a passion (fruit)
trust me.
That one's hilarious.
Reply
Dora to me, Hogan, Maria, Chad
5:18 PM (7 hours ago)
oh shut up. it does too work.
Reply
Hogan to me, Dora, Maria, Chad
5:20 PM (7 hours ago)
What about "I'm fucking 'dis hot chick'?
Does that work?
Reply
Hogan to Dora, me, Maria, Chad
5:47 PM (7 hours ago)
Get it?
Reply
Chad to Hogan, Dora, me, Maria
11:12 PM (1 hour ago)
That's the best one all day!
Reply
Nick to Chad, Hogan, Dora, Maria
1:10 AM (5 minutes ago)
See what I mean about sarcasm?
Friday, April 3, 2009
runnin' down a dream
I found this unbelievable video and have decided that they are my new favorite band.
I thought it was kind of relative about the dream. Considering that I woke up this morning after having had another interesting dream and thought that I should try and write it down as well. It was weird though, because I believe I realized that I had had an interesting dream while I was still asleep and was trying to go over it again in my mind so that I'd be sure to remember it - all while I was still asleep. It brings in the idea of how the act of recording your dreams for posterity might have an effect on your dreams. If I'm already thinking about how I'm going to retell a strange dream, it probably plays a part in how the dream unfolds. no? And one last point: recording a dream into writing is fundamentally different than the actual experience of dreaming the dream. I am happy with what I wrote down when retelling the butt corn grinding, crime and punishment mission, mourning over dead loved ones dream. However, writing the dream down/the dream in written form and dreaming the dream were two different and completely separate experiences all together. And in some way, they don't really have much to do with eachother on an emotional level. Perhaps that's what Tom Petty was hinting at with "runnin' down a dream".
Anyway, on to the dream.
I had been drafted and employed to a war zone. We were in a flat non-populated valley and had all arrived recently via air travel. We had not gone through any training at all, but knew that we were there to fight and were all fairly resigned to that fact. The first mission was setting up camp which consisted of setting the framework for our bunks which would be in a square grid that had to be drawn out on the ground. There were no materials for construction yet. We were only using our bodies to establish where each person's bunk would be. I was a member of the higher ranking officials or perhaps the group whose responsibility depended on decision-making capabilities, and our designated bunk locations were in a row on the left most side of the grid. I ended up having a bunk between my old biology lab boss at UM, Mark Grimes, and someone else that I knew but can't remember right now. Somehow, there was some sort of an engagement with the enemy which consisted of robot-like tanks (or better described as tank-like robots) with multiple machine guns that could destroy even very robust machinery. Not sure if they were the enemy or just a sample of the capabilities of the enemy, because we didn't fight against them and they didn't target us either. Anyway, once the 2 commanders arrived and started to give orders, I (naturally) begged to differ with one of their decisions and got in trouble for trying to say that my idea about how something should be done was better. This unleashed their fury and they started to attack me with axes and hatchets. I was inside a wooden box, although the view from the 1st person of the dream was from outside the box. I saw them going apeshit with their axes on the wooden box. The next thing that happened was I was able to escape just in time before the box could be completely demolished, and via some sort of distraction, I was able to go AWOL. I also remember that getting out of that situation was in my best interest because 1. it was war and 2. my bunk had been located on the outer edge of the battalion and that was the most vulnerable position of any army formation as I remembered my grandfather telling me. I got out of there with the help of my basketball teammate Lino who drove me away from the valley and up into the mountains. We were really doing some evasive driving to make sure we weren't being tailed. The plan was to get me up and out into the wilderness where I could survive in the woods for at least a year or until the war was over. There was no way they would find me out in the woods, and I knew that I could survive. My primary preoccupation was with obtaining a shelter of some sort and we kept heading up and up towards the treeline which was very close to the top of the mountain. I asked Lino why we were going so high. he said that he had thought the woods would provide me with more shelter, but I told him that that might be true, but the higher we went up the colder it was going to be. In fact, we were getting up into where there were still patches of snow. I had around a month before it would be pretty late in the summer and the weather would start changing so I needed to establish myself in a short amount of time. As we were driving through a field, a small herd of deer were in our path and were not wary of us at all. I got very excited and told Lino that when he went back, he should pick up my rifle from my dad and bring it back to me so I could more easily survive in the wild. Lino thought this was funny, but it was a nervous laugh, because he obviously didn't feel safe with the idea of a gun. He was sure that it would misfire or that the bullets would be in the gun wrong because he had no idea how to load it or anything. I laughed quite a bit and told him not to worry. All he had to do was go to my parents house and my dad would give him the rifle and a box of bullets. He needn't do anything with them except bring them to me. The gun wouldn't be loaded as we never loaded a gun unless we were getting ready to shoot. I'm pretty sure he didn't buy it. Next, he dropped me off just at the treeline and I proceeded to wander around looking for a suitable shelter/hiding place, although there were no trees anywhere, only grass and bushes close to the ground. It didn't provide much opportunity for getting under something in order to stay warm. Next, I wandered higher up on the mountain very close to the top and discovered a refuge that I easily got into. There were many cars around and plenty of people who had come up to this point for a daytime visit, but when they left I started to discover that the refuge was under the supervision of some sort of camp counselor who was monitoring runaway children who were living in the mountains. He was very nice to me and took me in, telling me to come with him in his van as he went around the mountain roads to gather the children. He and his wife were in the front seat and we went around picking up these teenage runaways who all got in the van and didn't resist whatsoever, but it was like they were in some sort of youth prison. All the kids were nice and outgoing and about half of them were of Latino descent (including the camp counselors) and spoke fluent spanish which I had been waiting for the opportunity to use. However, because of their accent I had a difficult time understanding several of them. One girl was particularly interested in me and asked me many questions and was basically trying to flirt with me. Her older sister and sister's boyfriend were good people and made fun of her in a playful manner. They all spoke spanish and thought I was basically a runaway teenager, too. I felt that keeping the fact of my having escaped from the war a secret was a good idea and I felt witty about making that decision. They asked me how old I was and I asked them how old they thought I was. They guessed 20 and I smirked and eventually told the truth which was that I was 33 (I'm actually 31). It was night time now and everyone had been picked up and we needed to try and get some sleep while we were driven back to the refuge. Once back at the refuge, we were to spend the night in the parked van (not the refuge, because we didn't have permission to use it). We were all pretty packed into the van (there were probably 5 or 6 other kids of all different ages) but, they somehow arranged themselves so that I had an entire seat to stretch myself out to try and get to sleep. At some point, I decided this was foolish (I don't know if because felt guilty about taking up so much space...), and decided to sneak into the refuge to sleep. I easily went in through the window and curled up in a bed around the corner. A short time later, the counselor man came in to get me as he knew I had sneaked into the refuge and that wasn't allowed. But, before kicking me out, he sat down to have a heart-to-heart. Real typical camp counselor type stuff. I remember bonding with him, but I'm not sure if I told him about my escape from the war, plans to live in the wilderness all winter or if I just told him about my childhood. Anyway, since the van was parked outside the refuge, I had to get back in the van so they could take us all away from there. They turned the lights off in the van because we really needed to get some sleep which I was happy to finally do after such a long day, and as it was already the middle of the night. With the lights off I felt the hand of the girl who had been flirting with me reaching under my blanket and touch my hand and leg. I thought she was trying to secretly let me know that she liked me and I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I had misgivings about it because 1. I'm married and 2. she was pretty young. Based on her age, I assumed she was only looking to hold my hand or something, but I rapidly found out she had something else in mind. I won't go into the details, but I assure you that what happened next could be in an american R rated movie and not an X rated movie. Despite my misgivings, I didn't prevent her, and began to relax/fall asleep. Next thing I knew, the light on the van was switched on and she was waking me up whispering for me to put my pants back on because the woman counselor was on her way into the back of the van to see what was going on. She caught us and I didn't deny anything, but only tried to reason (above all with the guy counselor) that I hadn't wanted to do anything with her, but how could I be blamed for not refusing to allow her to do what she was interested in doing. I was very ashamed.
That was the horrifying end of my dream.
I'm sorry to everyone involved (especially me.)
I thought it was kind of relative about the dream. Considering that I woke up this morning after having had another interesting dream and thought that I should try and write it down as well. It was weird though, because I believe I realized that I had had an interesting dream while I was still asleep and was trying to go over it again in my mind so that I'd be sure to remember it - all while I was still asleep. It brings in the idea of how the act of recording your dreams for posterity might have an effect on your dreams. If I'm already thinking about how I'm going to retell a strange dream, it probably plays a part in how the dream unfolds. no? And one last point: recording a dream into writing is fundamentally different than the actual experience of dreaming the dream. I am happy with what I wrote down when retelling the butt corn grinding, crime and punishment mission, mourning over dead loved ones dream. However, writing the dream down/the dream in written form and dreaming the dream were two different and completely separate experiences all together. And in some way, they don't really have much to do with eachother on an emotional level. Perhaps that's what Tom Petty was hinting at with "runnin' down a dream".
Anyway, on to the dream.
I had been drafted and employed to a war zone. We were in a flat non-populated valley and had all arrived recently via air travel. We had not gone through any training at all, but knew that we were there to fight and were all fairly resigned to that fact. The first mission was setting up camp which consisted of setting the framework for our bunks which would be in a square grid that had to be drawn out on the ground. There were no materials for construction yet. We were only using our bodies to establish where each person's bunk would be. I was a member of the higher ranking officials or perhaps the group whose responsibility depended on decision-making capabilities, and our designated bunk locations were in a row on the left most side of the grid. I ended up having a bunk between my old biology lab boss at UM, Mark Grimes, and someone else that I knew but can't remember right now. Somehow, there was some sort of an engagement with the enemy which consisted of robot-like tanks (or better described as tank-like robots) with multiple machine guns that could destroy even very robust machinery. Not sure if they were the enemy or just a sample of the capabilities of the enemy, because we didn't fight against them and they didn't target us either. Anyway, once the 2 commanders arrived and started to give orders, I (naturally) begged to differ with one of their decisions and got in trouble for trying to say that my idea about how something should be done was better. This unleashed their fury and they started to attack me with axes and hatchets. I was inside a wooden box, although the view from the 1st person of the dream was from outside the box. I saw them going apeshit with their axes on the wooden box. The next thing that happened was I was able to escape just in time before the box could be completely demolished, and via some sort of distraction, I was able to go AWOL. I also remember that getting out of that situation was in my best interest because 1. it was war and 2. my bunk had been located on the outer edge of the battalion and that was the most vulnerable position of any army formation as I remembered my grandfather telling me. I got out of there with the help of my basketball teammate Lino who drove me away from the valley and up into the mountains. We were really doing some evasive driving to make sure we weren't being tailed. The plan was to get me up and out into the wilderness where I could survive in the woods for at least a year or until the war was over. There was no way they would find me out in the woods, and I knew that I could survive. My primary preoccupation was with obtaining a shelter of some sort and we kept heading up and up towards the treeline which was very close to the top of the mountain. I asked Lino why we were going so high. he said that he had thought the woods would provide me with more shelter, but I told him that that might be true, but the higher we went up the colder it was going to be. In fact, we were getting up into where there were still patches of snow. I had around a month before it would be pretty late in the summer and the weather would start changing so I needed to establish myself in a short amount of time. As we were driving through a field, a small herd of deer were in our path and were not wary of us at all. I got very excited and told Lino that when he went back, he should pick up my rifle from my dad and bring it back to me so I could more easily survive in the wild. Lino thought this was funny, but it was a nervous laugh, because he obviously didn't feel safe with the idea of a gun. He was sure that it would misfire or that the bullets would be in the gun wrong because he had no idea how to load it or anything. I laughed quite a bit and told him not to worry. All he had to do was go to my parents house and my dad would give him the rifle and a box of bullets. He needn't do anything with them except bring them to me. The gun wouldn't be loaded as we never loaded a gun unless we were getting ready to shoot. I'm pretty sure he didn't buy it. Next, he dropped me off just at the treeline and I proceeded to wander around looking for a suitable shelter/hiding place, although there were no trees anywhere, only grass and bushes close to the ground. It didn't provide much opportunity for getting under something in order to stay warm. Next, I wandered higher up on the mountain very close to the top and discovered a refuge that I easily got into. There were many cars around and plenty of people who had come up to this point for a daytime visit, but when they left I started to discover that the refuge was under the supervision of some sort of camp counselor who was monitoring runaway children who were living in the mountains. He was very nice to me and took me in, telling me to come with him in his van as he went around the mountain roads to gather the children. He and his wife were in the front seat and we went around picking up these teenage runaways who all got in the van and didn't resist whatsoever, but it was like they were in some sort of youth prison. All the kids were nice and outgoing and about half of them were of Latino descent (including the camp counselors) and spoke fluent spanish which I had been waiting for the opportunity to use. However, because of their accent I had a difficult time understanding several of them. One girl was particularly interested in me and asked me many questions and was basically trying to flirt with me. Her older sister and sister's boyfriend were good people and made fun of her in a playful manner. They all spoke spanish and thought I was basically a runaway teenager, too. I felt that keeping the fact of my having escaped from the war a secret was a good idea and I felt witty about making that decision. They asked me how old I was and I asked them how old they thought I was. They guessed 20 and I smirked and eventually told the truth which was that I was 33 (I'm actually 31). It was night time now and everyone had been picked up and we needed to try and get some sleep while we were driven back to the refuge. Once back at the refuge, we were to spend the night in the parked van (not the refuge, because we didn't have permission to use it). We were all pretty packed into the van (there were probably 5 or 6 other kids of all different ages) but, they somehow arranged themselves so that I had an entire seat to stretch myself out to try and get to sleep. At some point, I decided this was foolish (I don't know if because felt guilty about taking up so much space...), and decided to sneak into the refuge to sleep. I easily went in through the window and curled up in a bed around the corner. A short time later, the counselor man came in to get me as he knew I had sneaked into the refuge and that wasn't allowed. But, before kicking me out, he sat down to have a heart-to-heart. Real typical camp counselor type stuff. I remember bonding with him, but I'm not sure if I told him about my escape from the war, plans to live in the wilderness all winter or if I just told him about my childhood. Anyway, since the van was parked outside the refuge, I had to get back in the van so they could take us all away from there. They turned the lights off in the van because we really needed to get some sleep which I was happy to finally do after such a long day, and as it was already the middle of the night. With the lights off I felt the hand of the girl who had been flirting with me reaching under my blanket and touch my hand and leg. I thought she was trying to secretly let me know that she liked me and I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I had misgivings about it because 1. I'm married and 2. she was pretty young. Based on her age, I assumed she was only looking to hold my hand or something, but I rapidly found out she had something else in mind. I won't go into the details, but I assure you that what happened next could be in an american R rated movie and not an X rated movie. Despite my misgivings, I didn't prevent her, and began to relax/fall asleep. Next thing I knew, the light on the van was switched on and she was waking me up whispering for me to put my pants back on because the woman counselor was on her way into the back of the van to see what was going on. She caught us and I didn't deny anything, but only tried to reason (above all with the guy counselor) that I hadn't wanted to do anything with her, but how could I be blamed for not refusing to allow her to do what she was interested in doing. I was very ashamed.
That was the horrifying end of my dream.
I'm sorry to everyone involved (especially me.)
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