JTV Invades My Dreams — Again!


A Million Old Soldiers Will Fade Away, but a Dream Goes On Forever …

Osso Buco and Zuchini-Feta Fritters

Today’s post about dreams made me think of Todd Rundgren. If you scroll about 1/4 of the way down in the Wiki article about Todd, you will get a glimpse into the major inspiration for the Justopia name. I think it may have been subliminal. While I don’t listen to Todd around the clock anymore, just the memories of wearing the vinyl thin listening to the same songs over and over, sitting next to the phone, waiting for THE phone call brings a smile to my face. Daydreams are great.

Mmmmmm … Osso Buco

Speaking of dreams, I remembered one when I woke up yesterday morning. It doesn’t happen often, but when I can remember it with clarity, it’s a real bonus. It seems my dreams have been very telling this past year. Some have been a nudge, while others have been a call to action and others have just made me a bit more nostalgic and reflective. I don’t recall dreams with such detailed messages like this since the wrenching dreams I’d wake up to when living in India.

My dreams rarely stay with me for any significant duration of time. I can think of just two, one of which dates back 32 years and the other was just a short 8 years ago. They both had a cause. The first due to a news story that was disturbing and the second was a result of being jostled out of bed during a major earthquake.

It’s clear to me that I dream when I have a lot on my mind, when I am worried. I dream about things I see or read in the news most often and somehow when I am sleeping my brain seems to connect news events to my life. I was worried about terrorism the night of that dream 32 years ago. I remember there was something that made the news and it obviously touched a nerve. I worried about earthquakes when living in the Philippines, and being jostled around my bed while asleep obviously worried me.

Sometimes the worries are more abstract and not at all current events related, just as with yesterday’s dream.

I was worried that the post I’d published about the Quintano_media/Designergirl incident wasn’t going to be well received. I recorded that post, the first one I’d recorded in a very long time, and I was wringing my hands over that decision. Apparently, not enough to make me hit the delete key though, right?


When I woke up though, I was smiling. It was a humorous dream. It was really only related to the Designergirl incident in a Six Degrees of Separation kind of way. I’ll paint the picture below:

I woke up with visions of a broken down space, an old, worn out, garage kind of space. I’m not exactly sure why, but I am reminded of New Jersey, Jersey City or Bayonne, to be exact and not the visions of Asbury Park that I would have expected to take a front seat in this particular dream. You’ll see why I say that in just a few more words.

In front of me was a tattered couch, the original print barely visible. Old. It would probably have made a nice comfy antique piece of furniture if someone made the effort to restore it. The walls appeared to have many years on them, dusky looking, grease and paint and nicks creating a kind of pattern. In front of me on the couch, to my left was … Bruce Springsteen! To his left was … Arnaud Muller. Yes, The Boss and RNO! What? Stick with me here, there is a connection to be made. Really. I swear!

Off to the right is a desk or a table against the wall and seated in a chair, hunched over something on the tabletop, with his back to us is an unidentified male. He is kind of round with thinning, dark, curly, hair. He seems to be engrossed in some kind of cerebral task with a pen in hand. Paying bills? Drafting a schedule? Writing lyrics? I don’t know.

To my left, almost shoulder to shoulder with me is a friend. It’s one of two people, but I’ll leave their identity out of it. It’s not vitally important other than to say I’ve thought about them both a lot in the past week. It’s not clear and won’t be, but that’s the beauty of dreams. All I can remember was that he had a cream colored knit jersey shirt with double stitched seams at the shoulder. I don’t recall hair color. Brown? Blonde? Gray? No matter. We can make dreams say what we want, right? So, I won’t place a name on him, and you can decide who it is for yourselves. It will be a kind of interactive dream. You get to put whomever you want in that place.

Anyway, as I am glancing to my left to gain some insight as to who my companion is and to put a face to the cream colored shirt and nondescript hair color, I see a grimace on Arnaud’s face. I was giddy at the fact that I was in the presence of Bruce Springsteen, a guitar in his lap and one to the left of the couch, between the guys and their friend at the desk and a big smile on the artist’s face. I was waiting for a song. Music was playing somewhere in the background, not loudly. Something from The Rising. It was a more recent Springsteen piece and still, Arnaud was not looking happy. It was a look of outrage and of jealousy.

I was rambling, not making much sense, I’m sure and my companion had that, Oh dear lord, she’s babbling and I am pretty embarrassed to be standing next to her. The celebrity in the room didn’t seem to be bothered by it though. He was smiling and relaxed. Arnaud had had enough and in a huff spoke up and said he was going to leave. Or … “make his leave.” Not a very French idiom I suppose. More of a MagicRich kind of statement — another connection in the Designergirl twist.

With that, Arnaud leans in. I see The Boss kind of move to his right, but not markedly so and and there’s the kiss. Ok. What!? This was not Virtual Kiss segment time on one of Arnaud’s broadcasts! He was not tucked in behind his desk with a microphone perched to his left and the monitor in front of him with well over 100 viewers watching in eager anticipation. This was real life. Well, in MY dream it was real life! And there was no pulling back, no recovery. It was done. A big fat kiss for Bruce Springsteen. He looked surprised, taken off guard. His response? “Dude!” And that was that. It was as though someone had snapped their fingers and the dream shut off. My friend and I were gone. Two players in the dream never identified. The guy at the desk and my compatriot. I suppose if either were pertinent, important to the story, I would have put a name to each before waking up.

The makings of a Zucchini-Feta Fritter

And how does this all tie back into the Designergirl story you ask? This is the strange way in which my brain works… I know she’s been a constant in the MagicRich channel when he’s been broadcasting. I have seen her in other rooms from time to time and I seem to recall one of those rooms being Arnaud’s. I just don’t spend enough time in there to know for sure. The Virtual Kiss is a bit much for me to handle. I think I’m just too serious for it to appeal to me. It’s a bit too choreographed for my JTV viewing pleasure. Arnaud was in ECV’s broadcast last night stating that he calls Designergirl and that he’d spoken with her a couple of days prior and was attempting to call her at that moment. I didn’t stick around to see if he made contact. Not that important.

THE important thing in my dream was Bruce Springsteen, but what this tells me is that I need to get out of my head! I am way too introspective these days. You know, I’m going for an MRI on Friday — a routine scan of the gray matter. I know these scans tell my doctors what they need to know, but isn’t there some way to get more detail? I’d like to know if my brain activity is more or less active than pre-JTV days. Maybe I can gather up the films from the past year and and play brain scientist! Hell, drawing my own conclusions might just help kick me out of the JTV-induced coma I’ve been living in these past 13 months.

Osso Buco, Justopia

I know it’s small. I was experimenting with Mac’s Pages and Office ’08 and for now this is the best I can do. If you click on the image and then click again it should be big enough to read. You can also try printing to see if that gives you a bit larger font size. The measurements are approximate. It’s not an exact science. If you find you are losing too much liquid, add a little more broth or water and cover.

And here it is, Todd Rundgren’s A Dream Goes On Forever

Todd lived in his own private world. Oh, but I still love him! What’s more scary is the way we all looked. I thought he was a living god. I still think his music is the nectar of the gods. It just flows over you.

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2 Responses

  1. “Just One Victory” by Todd was our grad class theme song.
    I always liked Todd too. He definitely was the look of the 70’s.
    Skinny, long hair etc.
    sumdanc

  2. OMG Sumdance, Just One Victory, really? He sure did have the hair and bones, but it was that vacant look that always threw me. In the current day photos and videos he’s more “here.” But, times are different and his “extra curricular activities” have probably changed as well. 😉

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