Dream • Rainbows from a Train

A fragment of a dream that returned upon reading about aurora's on Mars (How the Sun Helped Murder Mars:  http://time.com/4099730/mars-atmosphere-maven/). 
I am speeding along on board a silver train with large windows. There are others aboard and we are suddenly aware that rainbows are appearing on the horizon. Not just one or a double but many with standard appearance and varying sizes. They seem to emanate from everywhere and excitement mounts on the train as new ones sporadically appear and are pointed out by the passengers who ooh and aaah. At first appreciation is in unison, then, because of the unexpected number, the shouts are more singular alerts as to a new version in the sky. The larger ones are multi-concentric and variegated with complex designs and color patterns, somewhat geometric but still in a circular arch formation. The windows on the train don't seem to accommodate the magnitude of their scope and I must bob and weave my head to take in the full arches between the mullions. Passengers crowd around the southern windows of this west-bound train to witness the unfolding phenomenon and accumulation of rainbows. I am entranced, but begin to question the puzzle and scientific reason for this happening …quietly to myself.

Dream • X-Town Sprint

I have arrived from a dream-forgotten locale at a miniaturized chapel version of Grace Cathedral. The building has rough hewn light-colored stones and is elevated from the street at the crest of this (Nob?) Hill orientation and location. There is much street traffic below and people are arriving and milling about in anticipation of this production of Little Shop of Horrors on the elevated plaza near the box office and entry. I am waiting for a friend/Diane Komater and decide to enter and simultaneously realize I have left my ticket at home. I gauge the time it will take to retrieve it for this rather expensive production and decide I can traverse the City and return in time. I give a BRB signal to the ticket-taker and head down to the street to catch a cab. There are none in sight and I proceed down California to further my forward progress toward Van Ness. I pass Komater on her way to the show and quickly explain I will meet her when I return. I keep checking over my shoulder hoping to snag a taxi. I am resigned to hurrying toward home on foot while estimating my remaining time. Along the way I pass various street life happenings and a small homeless encampment at Market. I cross Market and realize I am near Komater's studio and decide to duck in as it is raining and I am drenched. (It is raining IRL this AM) Komater is there and calmly working, she has decided to forego the show despite having her own ticket that I have paid for. She apparently has caught a cab back and arrived here before me. We are joined by Bill Murray from a back room. He offers to drive me home and we prepare to leave in his old woody station wagon. It is parked in the studio so there is much back and forth maneuvering to turn it around. As we are near escaping the driveway space, a large truck filled with vinyl records backs into and blocks our egress. As Bill and the drivers negotiate, I rejoin Komater and begin to acquiesce to the inevitability of not making it back to the theatre. There is a physical sense of 'letting go' of my mission while Komater is oblivious or uncaring of its perceived importance to me.

Dream • Audience Recruitment

I am working closely for and with a club owner producer. We have a great friendly relationship beyond his high-powered business dealings. He considers me a valuable right-hand to his business. I am privy to all, but my initial and intended services are a small part of a larger show business venture. Very Glenn Schwartz (though I have never met him IRL)
The club he uses as home base is in a cluster of similar venues in a North Beach-feel part of downtown (Banana Republic corner of Union Square) It is all but invisible during the day until the nightlife springs full-bloom at dusk. Access from the street is down a flight of stairs to a dark, brick-walled, painted black showroom. The nook/office we sit in to to conduct business is near the entrance door. The club spreads out and there seems to be 2 stages. The main stage is glowing, well-lit and blindingly hazy even during the day, while the other on the opposite wall doubles and converts as easily to theatre seating. The wooden structure raised platform creaks like bleachers as you walk up to your seats. Access is a collapsing spiral stairway that fans out to create steps down to the floor. I traverse this more than once and am always intrigued by its construction and the height of this stage cum ad hoc table-less seating. 
We are dealing with day details when a call to inform him comes in, as his venue is to host a secret show for a high-level visiting performer. There is such secrecy, the name is dream forgotten or consensually known as a BFD. Think Eddie Murphy or Robin Williams. Understandably, there is much excitement and the handful of people privy to this knowledge know to keep it under wraps. We flip into high gear to prepare for the one-time event. There is much scurrying around, alerting interested and deserving parties and ramping up in general. I am allowed to invite my close associates and racking my brain to alert one particular dream forgotten industry person to this special event. but am having trouble remembering and dialing a specific number on a brick of an antiquated smart phone I have borrowed from Mike Lynch. The numbers keep eluding me, even as they are repeated patiently by Mike. They are an amber, early calculator display font. I go upstairs and outside to clear the place before the arrival, get a breath of fresh air, and meet some invitees into the stealth entrance.
Outdoors, street life parades by and as we collect around the corner, away from the front door to await for the club to be readied for our entry time and the star's big show. A young bespectacled girl approaches with sheet music in hand and a question as to where to audition as a jazz singer. We point out some nearby clubs and we ask her to entertain us until they open for business. She is anxious to show off her chops. There is an upright piano on the street and she does a sufficient job to qualify for more recommendations. She is invited to join us as we enter the club back around the corner as showtime nears. The invitees are sparse, not cause for alarm, but I fret and continue to call friends so they won't miss out on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity this will surely be.

Dream • Bright Ideas and Gummy Pills

I'm working on a large scale film production on location in one of the Embarcadero high rises. My contribution is a small cog part of the bigger endeavor. There is much activity and my small crew is pulling its weight and representing well. I have a clever idea to add to the movie or have found some sort of shortcut to make things roll along easier. I am about to explain at a production meeting, but a crisis arises and I am asked to finish up with one of the producers who sees the brilliance in the beginning statements. As the crew disperses to address the issue, I am told to meet with the producer, Allison Janney in another part of the building to continue laying out my plan/idea. I am excited as I know the idea is a winner and will likely garner me seat at the bigger creative table. Allison Janney is attentive and encouraging. We get along as old friends and I quickly become her confidant and sounding board. The collaboration will bear fruit for both of us. There are more meetings planned and I must stay in the vicinity of the Embarcadero to be available for them.

The dream dissolves to an adjacent familial place where I am awakening from the activity below. Kathy Hughes is in the house and pills have been replaced in a regimen intended for her feminine issues. I have the instructions taken upon delivery. They are heart-shaped and gummy and fit into a recessed tray. They keep getting jostled and I repeatedly realign them. The ragged Berber rug remnant by the bed has some industrial end-of-the-roll markings in a fluorescent lavender spray paint. This is a makeshift bedroom to accommodate my lingering. Hugh is around and busy with the hubbub below this bedroom alcove. He is attending to family, which seems to include Kathy as his wife. Upon hearing of the replacement pills, he devolves into Mark and regrets that he was the one that took them by accident in the rush and misunderstanding of his life. This version of him/Hugh is less friendly and sweet and caught up in the overwhelming busy schedule of his daily existence.
This dream is likely a product of watching the Side by Side documentary and the noise of the Canadian families' morning activities at Ron's in Montreal.

Dream • Row U Seat 22

Walking and exploring a neighborhood, somewhat familiar as around the Market Safeway and around and down Bartlett at a leisurely pace. There are stops along the way, a motel balcony where friends are conversed with and many dream forgotten incidents relating to school, bushes of lilies that are quite fragrant and beautiful, children of others coming home from school and ?. As I meander on my way home, I encounter Carrie Snow who tells me of a large concert event being held in an armory like building on the west side of Bartlett. It may be just a speaker of some import and interest, but I can still get tickets at the venue and double back to do so. There is much confusion with a Philippine man at the door as to whether I have a ticket. He assumes I am in need of two tickets and charges my cc around 40 bucks with handling fees. The tickets come with hotel accommodations as it is assumed everyone attending is from out of town. I realize he has given me two room keys with small medallion fobs. I am not concerned with the overcharging and rationalize the low cost overage. He gestures to my seat: U 22, which is uncharacteristicly  in the front row among other unoccupied seats in the filling up amphitheater. I notice most of the attendees are my age or a bit older. I have some time before the show starts so I decide to walk up the wide stairs to further explore the hall toward where U 22 would logically be, although I realize these seats are numbered laterally across the room in alphabetical sections. There is a projection area that has a certain amount of rusty cave coloring on the white walls. No one is manning the space and I am free to marvel at the huge stalagmite that inhabits and bifurcates the space. It is a crusty, crystallized formation, mostly orange red in color and it seems the building may have been built around it. The speaker is about to commence and I know I must return to my seat in Row U seat 22.

Dream • Food Expedition

Kathy Jones and I are taking care of her gangly teenage cousin as we walk around a small town of hers, possibly Fremont, shopping and taking in a bit of touristy stuff. We decide to eat and are joined by Jimmy Kimmel. Jones and I decide to impress them with a well known and well worn approach to the restaurant row of this town. The entrances are secret and back-room, underground and near-kitchen access.
We jump up on a counter located at the back of a bar, swing our legs over to jump into a dirt basement, the bar's freight-receiving cellar and proceed up stairs with brick walls in one of many passageways to our destination. It is meandering and byzantine, also fun to lead the group and show our prowess and knowledge of this little-known back of the house approach. There are some outdoor segments but is is long and convoluted skirting the restaurants we are working our way around and past. The restaurants' noises of conviviality are muffled but heard as we finally make our way to the destination of an Italian restaurant. Jones usually eats heartily and this is her favorite cravings place. There is much anticipation from Kimmel as he has bought enthusiastically into the adventure. The cantankerous counter waitress that will take our order says we must partake of their new setup/menu that includes a Wednesday-Friday inclusion of a comedy night, beyond the food offerings. Jones's young cousin announces she has $1.81 to spend and I make a note to self that I will cover her meal. Jones has pulled away and is mumbling about not being hungry. I believe it is because of lack of funds and assure her repeatedly "I got this". Meanwhile Jimmy Kimmel is making his dinner choice from the huge price fixe meals which include many courses. Jones and I have always come here for our favorite salmon entree with antipasto.
We finally find it buried in the new color xeroxed menu and proceed to order. There is entertainment going on in an adjacent room, but we are uninterested as it is not our style or we have seen it many times before. Everyone in our intrepid party is in good spirits and impressed with the path and trail we took to get to this special place with amazing food. It feels like Bruno's in decor, but the waitress has a NY vibe and no-nonsense manner about her.

Dream • Record Drought

Drought related business is booming in a Brill-type building (or the locale my dentist's building) Simone Joseph is the successful business owner making a killing on karaoke-style musical songs  about the drought. A friend confides the details of her $uccess, which delights me for her accomplishment.
A yellow barrier tape is evident while I record my own drought single. It is something I must do prior to leaving on vacation for parts unknown.
Returning home to pack I am greeted by backed-up toilets in serious need of a plumber. The sub-letters, guests or visiting group have left a plugged toilet and small shit pile dump on bathroom floor where ants have swarmed, as I prepare to clean up.

Dream - Slippery Slope

Staying in a long resort house, the large living and TV room at the front of the house are. connected by a long hallway to the back kitchen and entrance. Another door in this hallway leads downstairs to a garage area room where the cat litter box for 2 cats and a neighbor's cat hang out. The cats are apparently difficult to wrangle, and they eye me suspiciously when I am introduced into this room. Their owner, a Kristen Bell-type woman is energetic, athletic, in charge and prepping for a day of skiing with her husky, heavily bearded ginger husband. They are endorsing new ski equipment on this trip and I was brought along to watch their cats. Later, I try on the newly designed skis that are supposed to feature a sharp blade cutting edge, but the snow pack is hard-crusted and completely frozen. The sharpness will be useless, as I demonstrate by trying to tap and cut through the glistening surface, tentatively with the ski edges. The impending slope is going to be treacherous and dangerous for a beginner like me, so I fret and lay on my side at the top of this house-connected partially indoor track afraid to stand up as the icy slickness will certainly propel me down the hill and certain injury. There is no reason I must join in except the woman is being inclusive and competitive with her superior skills. She will appear even more Olympian in contrast by conquering the descent with ease. The husband is ill-suited to the athleticism at hand and seems to be steamrolled into the activity by his wife's self-serving agenda and lucrative endorsement deal.

Dream - Making Movies

I am attending a gathering on a dock in SF with burning man circus-dressed individuals partying for some event or possibly a protest. I am scheduled to leave on a private boat with Harrison Ford to an estate across the water. The plan is to use a new fresh food delivery service that arrives after items are chosen from a well-designed menu hand delivered from a small dingy. The choice is a large bird, possibly an eagle, still with feathers, claws and a suspicious looking identifying tag that must be removed. I struggle with it in the kitchen with Dayna West. She takes a short cut to alleviate the problem by cutting off the tagged leg. There is still much plucking of feathers to do, but I am distracted by the other activity.… creation of a movie in a suite of rooms, notably an elegant bathroom and the main shooting set, a bedroom with a large bed. I go about doing lighting tests by cranking up any number of dimmers that illuminate the scene from bucket lights in the tall ceilings. There seem to be an inordinate amount of light switches throughout the suite, which I am toggling back and forth to ascertain their source connection. Harrison Ford has now turned into Rob Lowe, who is a close friend. As he lays on the bed, we discuss the type of movie we're creating as I take Polaroids for the lighting tests. I have only one package of the film along with a digital movie camera I assume will be used for the filming. Rob expresses his desire to make the film using mostly stills from the Polaroids. My concern is how to acquire more Polaroid film for the completion of this new idea. John Elk is present and contributes his dismay that he never had such an opportunity with a set or star such as this. I am undeterred by his complaints as there is much to do and I have not had an inspiration for the sauce to be prepared to for the bird, yet.

Dream - Chaos Cab

There is much chaos in the streets outside, several celebrations are happening i.e. Critical Mass, Sunday Streets etc. and most seem to have devolved into protests of disgruntled mad max mobs. Their war cries and whooping coming from near and far. Those on bikes are circling intersections and holding cryptic signs. One reads: We are all born in a box to live in a box. It is held by a guy riding on the shoulders of another guy pedaling an elevated tall bike among other contraptions. There seems to be no cohesion to the groups, just restless and relentless discontent bubbling up. It is dusk so the light is eery and oddly multicolored. I have a ticket to a play downtown with an 8:00 curtain. I am not concerned about entering the fray, but decide to flag down a cab at 24th and Mission. Traffic is impossible and he decides to take South Van Ness, which is no better. This older cab driver has a silver short cropped crewcut and seems Slavic. In defeat, he pulls over to the old Cala parking lot as I decide to seek other transportation to the play. It is already late and I am calculating my time and wether to return home a few blocks away. The meter reads $71.41 and is obviously a swindle, so I begin to argue with him. He's an old pro at his scam and shouts invectives and threats back. I give as good as I get, eventually screaming "Fuck you" and walk away from the scene without paying. No one notices as there are small fires, mayhem, many brawls and much chaos as previously mentioned.

Dream - Vomit, Muppets, Jonathan

I realize I am late for a performance or show in Berkeley that I normally attend. I leave the house with my Clipper card and cross the street. At this point, standing in the BART plaza I know there is realistically not enough time and return home across the street.
As I open the street door, I encounter some sticky vomit on the lower entry stairs and the guys that live downstairs are coming to clean it up. One new ambitious magical slightly balding, bozo-haired roommate is offering to put down some white rug netting to alleviate any further problems. We all discuss the viability of the solution and realize it will not wear well and only get dirtier with use. His girlfriend and I go into the boy's room and discover its sparse furnishings and the origin of the netted mat from an old suitcase in a small closet.
There is a gathering of comics in a familiar corridor (downstairs?) I walk down the long hallway, squeezing through as I encounter throngs of local comedians. The one that I look forward to seeing is John Riggi,  I see him at the end of the hallway approaching and am thrilled and expectant at our soon-to-be reunion, but as we get closer it's apparent he will continue walking and only nods  acknowledgment as if I am just a passing acquaintance not worthy of a longer conversation. His dismissive acknowledgement astounds and befuddles me and as he walks further down the hallway away from me I call out to him "Really Riggi?," He turns around still uncomprehending how important he was to me and turns away. I am crestfallen and proceed sadly and resigned down the hallway where I next encounter Jonathan Winters. He is being shepherded/handled by Lorne Michaels, who disappears to schmooze elsewhere. We are both  waylaid by a television with a YouTube playlist of Muppet highlights, specifically small inchworms that are singing and wiggling in unison. We are laughing and enjoying the sequence of highlights of there well known and infamous career. As it comes to a close the conversation turns toward Robin. I compassionately express 'what a loss that must've been for him'. His face darkens and he starts to reminisce with some solemnness, obviously brokenhearted and missing his old friend. The insights he offers are hushed and I can barely make them out as he remembers what a genius his colleague was. He also voices some personal knowingness into Robin's character and reasons for his demise, possibly matching his own considerations for such an end. I am aware that despite the vividness of the conversation and trust Jonathan is showing me, he actually preceded Robin in death.

Dream - Play Disruption

A small segment remembered. Verla and I are in NY for a Broadway play. We're both excited and talking animatedly before the show starts and we find our front row seats. Our view seems to be obstructed as we are sitting very close to stage right. A large box structure gives us a sliver of a view. We are commenting and concerned as the curtain rises. I cut myself off mid sentence, but Verla seems to want to prattle on. She seems naive to the etiquette and respect of hushing the fuck up when the curtains rise. I give her a couple of arm touches and a disciplinary look to signal. The box is moved offstage and our seats have become great and wonderful for the vantage point. She can't help but continue to comment. Jonathan Groff is the star and begins. A house manager, voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing someone is making a racket down front and the play must be interrupted to deal with the interruption. On cue, Groff singles out Verla and brings her up onstage to make an example of her, proceeds to humiliate her and use it as a teachable moment for the audience. Verla is quite oblivious to her faux pas and is enjoying the full spotlight of being part of the show. I am embarrassed and amused and during the intermission, I retreat to the back of the theatre to touch base with an acquaintance and gauge just how bad the incident was. There seem to be no repercussions although I feel the need to apologize to someone, while subtly disassociating myself from the clueless Verla. She will tell the story in full gory detail with her center stage antics as the gist of the tale.

Dream - White House

I am with a large group of people playing a sophisticated survival game, possibly televised . Our task of several different groups is to survive challenges in the White House. We have access to almost every room depending on the challenge. My group talk of strategy and have a scarf talisman to identify us to each other. Early on after the first successful challenge is completed to continue in the game, I am traded/separated from my original group. As my cohorts leave me, I join a new group who are doing food tasks. We are seated at large dining tables and must choose foods to consume as we wander among staffers. After having a great meal, we are left to choose a desert. I choose a tall ice cream cone of my own making. I must juggle the assemblage by putting my pinkie in the bottom of the cone and flip it right side up in a ball and cup manner to add the final topping. There is an eagle? component that endangers it from getting snatched. Surprisingly, I do this twice successfully, seeming to have an aptitude, which is congratulated by Barack as he sits and and nods approval while casually talking to another head of state on the phone.  Several other team members join me in looking out a picture window that reveals Alaska/Hawaii where a person walks by as Barack comments on the view and its splendor. There are also several raccoons that gambol thru this vista and a dock leading to a serene lake. I decide to wander/explore into a hallway where a large art is displayed. I ask permission to do this and am OK'd by WH handlers. I encounter other team members with their various foods. I start to peruse the art, down the hallway. Some is classical, but many are large format color political cartoons, left over from other presidencies. I stop to identify a large eared George. Bush cartoon- he's in a speeding out of controller car careening off an overpass. I am aware I should be careful not to spill my cone in this great carpeted hallway, and am warned by a housekeeper as she leaves for her day. There is a general hubbub and I join others of my team in another room to play an odd pinball machine with golf balls that overflow the supply slot after I win. Barack is there again being briefed by staffers and looking out a window and has the time to notice my accomplishment. I do this all while continuing to juggle the ice cream cone. I pick up some of the golf balls to clean up the overflow as Barack wanders by again in what is obviously the Oval Office. He jokes with staff in what seems like a very convivial atmosphere. My team is assembling again to begin a new task.

Dream - Pig Roommates

I am sitting in front room rocking chair talking to Tina. She heralds the arrival of a small baby pig into the room as others come up the stairs. It is not only a Francisco-like tall man roommate, but his young short blonde girlfriend. She is moving in unexpectedly and my first reaction is horror and dread. I am not able to hide my reaction from her, even as she is placing a check for $40 on the desk as her half of the rent with her tall boyfriend. He is not visible yet, has not warned me of this change in the living arrangement or even asked. The young girl is some sort of desperate straits, and is relieved and not wavering from the inevitability of moving in. This is a done deal as far as she is concerned and may be saving her own life from the previous arrangement she is fleeing. The little pig is running around, perhaps playing with other small dogs in residence, in a very happy frolicking way. I begin to see the writing on the wall and apologize for my initial reaction. There are hugs and general making nice. She is a sweetheart and I start to make mental adjustments to my new living situation, even asking if she is working during the day. She replies with an "I wish" negative. I have to answer the door several times and knock collected papers to the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I have to pick them up again and again, re-stacking them in their wire basket cubbys attached to the wall. Inconvenient and obviously inefficient. Chris Frieber comes upstairs or is on the street with conversation as one visitor. He also shows me a picture book(?) of old weathered French doors of great architectural splendor.

Dream - Biking Guide

I have left a dream-forgotten situation in the Richmond and am on a standard bicycle wending my way through a series of right-angle wooden covered tunnels as an approach to the GG Bridge.  I encounter and avoid oncoming tourists who may or may not be on the right path, as it is narrow and does not seem to be designed for this double passage. I am not traveling at top speed so this is more of a pleasant surprise when they pop up from around various corners. After what seems a long convoluted and Byzantine journey, I finally come out near the ramp to the Bridge. I must walk my bike and avoid a muddy patch of long grass that leads down to a path. Tourists from both directions are milling about and I give directions to a few who I overhear talking. I correct their confusion about the name of their location, but restrain from telling them the history of the buildings in the Presidio and the architectural timeline they portray.

Dream - Encouragement

I am in school and working on a story, perhaps illustrated, perhaps being hammered out in storyboard form. The pages are laid out on the floor of my bedroom. The book is colorful and may be in watercolor. Barbara Scott is a fellow student and Robin is there in the capacity of teacher. We are looking at the pages and pondering what is not there yet and needs to be filled in where there are missing pages of these brainstorming doodles. There is some discussion and encouragement from both. Robin is also mindful and expectant of an approaching deadline. I am on the stairway finding places for some colorful books to be wedged into niches of the back of the door. Later or the next day, we are now downstairs and the book is laid out on a table. Robin comes to check on my progress that is no further along, though he reads a later chapter and is optimistic about its content. I have other studies and classes that need attending and tended to. I now must take a station wagon across the bay and leave on my trip. On my way I pull over to rest or attend to something on a country back road, and do so in a covered roadside gas station, likely abandoned. When I pull out to continue my journey, I pass Hispanic women crossing this pastoral road, with large sparse trays of cupcakes, the others having been delivered to a school on the right. The frosting is colorful for celebrating a holiday. I imagine their homemade goodness.

Note: Robin Williams committed suicide yesterday - August 11

Dream - House Police

Details of how we got into a large showroom are gone upon waking…although I have flashes of initial dream's location orientation. We are seated stage left near the front of a comic-con type gathering. Before the show starts, we are called away to answer questions, tour and inspect a house across the street with some urgency. Supposedly we have some knowledge of the home (it may be mine or had been). Police are involved, because when we return I look back through the auditorium's entrance portal to see them on balconies and roofs combing the slope-roofed brick abode. I implore Teresa? to witness the goings on behind and over our shoulder, as it appears Frank Kidder and another old-school comedy guy (Cantu) are now part of the police proceedings. I comment: "Thought you would ever see that?…" Upon our return to the audience, we see that our away time has been put to good use by Denise and Joe entertaining the happy crowd with some fireman's carry game with sets of two hapless audience members and have accrued 60 points. Cheering and laughter for these time-fillers, while the original intent of the show/panel is all but forgotten. Later we are all in a van with Charlie Brown among others in the back, on our way to another performance.

Dream - Backstage before the Flood

Dream
I am somehow privy to 3 theatre productions running concurrently in a large warehouse space. At first as an audience member, then morphing into a backstage assistant to one of the actresses. Vince and Richard are also knowledgeable about those working on the productions. There is much busyness in the space as, workman dismantle and rebuild  the stages daily between each play. Time ticks away but there is no urgency just relentless hard work on a grand scale. The gay 'bouncer' at the door allows me in after quipping (not remembered upon waking) something I repeat to others as I make way in with a bag with auxiliary items for one of the actresses. She is blonde and has been asked to fill in for the third play. The other plays have something to do with variations on/with or without a certain costume of each actress. Each play had a distinct different actress. Detail is spent on my part packing bag with a variety of specific found items needed for blonde's part in the play.
This actress is visiting with small dogs and later meets a family with children and is cordial to their normality. They live in a single level house. We all witness a rainstorm and folks caught in this deluge outside. The increasing severity is reflected in BART plaza flooding with increasing number of blue tarps to cover the water as seen from window above. (having morphed from the family's first floor) Some concern and commentary about the flooding.

Dream - Medical Forms, Cats

Filling in patient's medical history and prescription forms at house/friend I am visiting. There is also a maid that is struggling with the same thing. She is familiar with this regular duty for her employer, while I am just biding my time while I'm waiting for her to finish or return from her busy life, and to help out so she is freed up to leave. The power gal of this huge house is around but too busy. She corrects or answers myriad questions about the forms on occasion, but disappears to other social or business engagements. The info needs to be transferred into matching fields from other hard to decipher forms. There is one black form, with white writing that is especially complex, hard to read and decipher.
I am next, tasked with taking care of Durst's cats while they're gone on a tropical vacation. They are attending one last baseball game before they leave. The game is about to be rained out, or perhaps not when the sun returns after a deluge. I am already on their enormous house boat. There are 2 decks that wrap around both sides of this enormous floating living space that has a view of the ballpark. What I think are 2 cats, an older tabby and a youngish kitten turns out to be 6 more exotics that appear after the mishap. A squirrel gets on board and the 2 known cats give chase. The kitten is outside the house and crawling into a broken headlights space on the outside of the boat.  My fear is her escape, but she returns indoors from the romping and high speed chasing with a broken foot, that is now swelling. This kitten is hobbling and favoring the front right broken paw. The older Tabby is also concerned and shadowing the limping kitten and licking the broken paw. I must reach the Durst's for advice and possible vet visit. There is some hope they may be able to do this before they leave. I am concerned, Will seems to be taking the lead because Debi is seldom in sight or present. There is concern that the squirrel may still be on the boat, and may be a nuisance to the other now-congregating cats or dead upon the Durst's return if it is trapped on the boat.

Dream - Sex and Elvis

Andy I's house, I'm resting horizontally on my side, possibly laying down for a nap and he mounts me from behind for sex. His release results in a huge load that surprises me and I surmise this as his peccadillo of shame. He must greet other visitors while I am secreted away to deal with huger-than-imagined load dripping down my leg. Can feel the warm wetness and proceed to clean myself up. He asks/requires me to be hidden upstairs afterward. Part of a long detailed rationale explaining rules of my continuing to stay for his repeated and regular pleasure. He is a bit naive and thrilled that this will happen again.
Escape to attend a huge Elvis Presley concert where I am privy to his redundant clueless wandering behavior in stands and backstage mechanics of his life in arena during concert, I view this from wide stairs below, near seats of friends who are either oblivious, uninterested or bored with this view so nearby. I leave concert early with one of them on inside tip that he always leaves at same time while band finishes concert, Sure enough, I watch Elvis carried out, wrapped up in a hod. Despite a full stadium, we go to an empty parking lot, looking for my odd white car. We are on the way to drop off my male morphing identity passenger in Santa Cruz, she/he wants to take a side trip looking for a storage unit. Pull over at Chinese donut shop to check phone map, enter and crawl  under hinged counter. Now also have a small boy dressed in overalls and s'easter, and Judi Clark is now present, impatient and calling the shots.