Wednesday, June 26, 2002

The Dream It's hot, dry and extremely dusty outside. The colors around me are all in sepia tones. I'm sweating because I'm cutting back some stubborn bushes away from a row of stucco bungalows. They are the appartments from Mulholland Drive. I'm alone. Aunt Ruth is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, in my peripheral vision, I spot a VW Bus driving down the street which is not paved. I guess the driver is drunk or high because the bus is speeding along, swerving, bouncing, hitting potholes, trailing a plume of arid dirt. It's tires grind the gravel in the road with a deep throaty crunching sound as it comes to a stop behind me. I turn. The motor cuts out and the driver side door swings open. Ken Kesey steps out crosses the road and walks right up to me. I'm in shock. I hail him. "Hey.", I say. "Don't worry.", he replies. "About what?", I ask. "About Dave, Dave Winer.", he says impatiently. "Oh...Thanks...That's a relief.", I sputter. Kesey interrupts. "He's going to be fine. You guys won't loose him now, but you understand how these things work...", his voice trails off. "Yeah. I get it.", I smile. Shit I'm talking to Ken Kesey. He notices me smiling and recognizes what's going on in my head. The awe, the admiration is beginning to show on my stupid mug. He extends his hand. I reach out with mine and we shake hands. His grip is like iron. "Ok, See ya later.", he says. "And don't worry." "Ok.....Wait!" But it's too late the bus is fired up and the tires are spinning kicking up gravel as the bus disappears down the road in a cloud of dust. Feel better Dave.

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