2002-05-29 - 9:30 a.m.

They Say People Don't Really Die As �

Long as we remember them. My grandfather passed away nearly a year and a half ago from cancer (I've written about this before), but I'm still surprised that I dream of him so vividly. Two nights ago I had my weekly, "I'm in Pittsburgh, PA and doing something at the airport." It is natural that my grandparents would feature in these dreams, and I'm going to make sure and spend some time with my grandmother when she comes out to see my family in August. When I was a kid, I'd spend weekends with my grandparents until I was about 5. I don't remember much of this, and it happened when we lived on the other side of town from them. But there was no reason at the time that I'd have any reason to remember the airport.

And yet I still am haunted by that particular airport. I've even seen it in other dreams that aren't focused on my family. Last night I dreamt Steelhead (who no longer is my officemate) put on a slave collar and my leather jacket and claimed to be a goth so he could get fucked by some hot chicks � only to be shocked when I told him, "You don�t look goth at all, and those chicks you think are hot, are my roommates. Trust me, they hate goth boys." Why I had roommates I don�t know. But even more odd was the fact that the dream took place in Seattle, and that I was driving around the city at night. And the final thing, the Pittsburgh airport was there again.

Why do I keep dreaming of airports? This one changes a bit, but there is something about airports that I think about. What? And why?

Here Let Me Chop Off Your Arm

Yesterday, while walking to lunch, I noticed that nearly a quarter of the people we passed in the street were walking and talking on their cell phones at the same time. I could understand seeing a few people doing this, but it was noon, and I see this all the time around the capital. People just can�t be torn away from their phones.

It is strange to me because frankly I hate talking on the phone. I�ll do it, but I would much rather talk with somebody face to face, or better yet � I like really talking to people when sitting outside on a swing set at 2 AM in the morning. But I hate talking for hours on the phone. Did I say I hate it? I do.

If I could see a holo transmission of the person I was talking to, it might be different. OK, that might be entertaining for a few days, but I'm sure I'd hate a holonet after a while too.

Anyway, people are born with two arms. And yet there are legions of middle aged upper middle class paper pushers that spend most of their life using one of these arms to hold a phone to there are.

So I want to propose, "Let me chop off your arm and install a phone in your brain! You won�t need to eat as much food to hold that phone to your head, and instead of walking down the street and looking like a valley-girl, you�ll be one of the thousands of one-armed people talking to themselves. The rest of us will know that you are talking about some all important business or relationship thing, and when you are driving like an idiot or walking into people, we�ll nod our heads and say, 'It is such a shame that person is so important they only have one arm'."

LISTENING TO: Dulce Liquido Disolucion

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