When I was 3 or 4 years old, I had a really vivid dream that I had one of those Mickey Mouse talking telephone toys. The ones where you'd dial a number that corresponded with a Disney character, and they'd greet you with some kind of message about how they were happy to talk to you.

When I woke up, I tore the house apart looking for the toy - but it was nowhere to be found. I made my concern known to my Mom, who then had the unenviable task of telling her baby that he didn't actually have this toy, and that it was all a dream.

It went over about as well as you'd think. I was inconsolable for a spell, but I eventually moved on.

I've been a lousy sleeper all of my life. There doesn't seem to be any specific reason why other than - like most things - it being in my head. As I've gotten older, I've added chronic pain to the mix. I never really addressed it until I was old enough to buy alcohol and drink myself to sleep. (or so I was telling myself) These days, I do things like meet with a sleep psychologist or get a prescription for Trazodone. You know: healthy things.

Another thing I've been doing these days is remembering dreams more vividly. When I wasn't addressing my sleep I felt like I simply didn't dream. Not even a recollection of them when I woke up. But now, a dream can be so clear and distinct that it has the means to disrupt part of my day.

I'll dream of having a conversation with someone I know in real life, and then wake up having warm thoughts of them. Or be bitter at someone because we got into a fist fight. Or try to "re-dream" a dream because it felt incomplete. (the late, great Norm Maconald had a funny bit about this)

But over the last few years or so, more of my dreams have become reoccurring. One occasionally has me going back to work at a place I worked as a teenager: a combination video store/tanning salon. (video stores seemed to combo with a lot of weird formats) In it, I'm going back to work there as an adult. The store is about to close permanently, so I'm watching the shop while the owner ties up loose ends. Every part of the job comes back to me with ease.

But the shelves are empty. There's maybe a few dozen videos left through out the store. I feel embarrassed telling a customer that we don't have a particular movie in stock. "Shouldn't it be obvious?", I tell him [in my head].

And that's about it.

But last year, I had en epiphany. What if the reason why you keep having these dreams is because every single Sunday, you look for your former boss's obituary in the newspaper? While coming to that conclusion halted the dreams for a time, they eventually came back.

Another dream has me running through entire neighborhoods of people's homes, like that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when he's trying to get home before his parents. From the front door to the back. Like a peculiar combination of burglary and parkour. I never took or broke anything, nor did I ever encounter anyone in these homes. I still have these ones occasionally - as recent as this past week.

In fact, I had it in combination with a new recurring dream that takes place in a large, Dayton's-like department store with many tiers and floors. There are lots of curves and whimsy, Dr. Seuss-inspired Wes Anderson. I'm always trying to get away from or find someone.

And finally, there's the one dream I think has been reoccurring the longest, where I'm always missing a bus. And I keep missing it for the same reason: because it's early. It's never my fault.

Some years back, I was having a conversation with my brother, who had really gotten into dream interpretation at the time. His reading of dreams seemed to take more of a spiritual bent; and his view of them was more atmospheric rather than 1:1 symbolism.

I notice where I am in a dream, but I never feel like I have the time to soak it in. I have to be somewhere or make sure something works. There's always a schedule to adhere to. In some dreams, I'm drinking again and attempting to hide from others.

But then other dreams also help me process things. I've been able to let go of feelings I've had about people. Or stop holding grudges and move on. Or maybe realize that someone - or something - just isn't a good fit in your life.

And after all of that's been said, I'm still pretty agnostic about dreams. They're certainly not a panacea or a replacement for a therapist. Not everyone has access to them. They're just bizarre little tales created by your subconscious to fuck with your well-being and keep you honest.

Whatever they are to you, try to listen to them if you can.

m u s i c b r e a k

I'm Not Sayin', by Nico

I owe at least half of my record collection to thrift stores. And while I've never really made a great "score", or found something I'd been coveting for years, I've still managed to pick up stuff that I genuinely enjoy listening to. (though I'll probably never get around to listening to that "Best Of..." Robert Goulet I bought)

When I was thrifting with my kid yesterday, I found a copy of the Gordon Lightfoot compilation Gord's Gold. And while "Gold" may be doing a lot of heavy lifting here, there are some genuinely good songs on there, like Steel Rail Blues and Early Morning Rain.

And then there's I'm Not Sayin', a selfish song that's saying "I don't love you anymore. But we can still be friends, as long as it's on my terms." And while Gord's version is serviceable, Nico's version is transcendent. Young session musician Jimmy Page's strum-strum-strumming of the 12-string guitar gives the song some urgency, but gently. A smile and a dagger in the back. Nico's voice lends some Germanic anguish to the story, but not so much that it can't help but feel a little uplifting - despite the lyrics.

But still I won't deny you or mistreat you
Baby, if you let me have my way

Have a great week, everyone.

-AG