Dream • Neighbors, Dad, Donuts

Re-House sitting in an enlarged floor space house seems sweet, until the previously closed doors reveal odd somewhat loud, violent neighbors. Closing the doors and locking them out keeps them at bay, but their disturbing memory lingers and seems somewhat threatening. They had always been there, but segregated by the doors. To escape, I attend a concert at nearby Skyline college campus. I have won tickets and despite the genre invite my father who patiently sits and joins me in attendance. Even though I know it's not his cup of tea, we are together and he drifts off despite the cacophony. He is asleep for most of it, but I am content to cuddle next to him and nap myself. The crowd is huge and enjoys the performance. There is a break in the show, and I wander out into the hallway lobby and sit next to 2 children. Someone familial approaches and shows them a movie (on a mobile device?) and they are thrilled because it is about the Mission, where they live. I tell them I live in the same neighborhood. One of them turns into Sandee Althouse and I am struck by her youthful resemblance to herself. She doesn't seem to recognize or acknowledge my presence on the couch. Meanwhile, the concert has devolved into a smaller room, where attendees are making their own music in an open mike type stage environment. I am intrigued for a bit but decide to go home. Approaching from Osage Alley, I'm pleased to find a space to chain my small vehicle/unicycle to a meter on 24th near a panel truck, where David Goldberg and a dream-forgotten familiar are unloading cargo after a hard day of manual labor. We speak and share donuts convivially. I take my donuts upstairs to finish and am joined by Will Durst and Terry Gillespie who also have donuts that are proffered. Despite having just finished mine, I join them in the big room and pinch off a partial maple cake segment of the gracious offering.