Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Friday, February 11, 2005

Hub Mart Dream


I'm standing in the check-out in some suburban outback of Paris (?), so many speaking fast French but there's a mix of other languages and now I see it's the old Hub Market on Hyperion Ave. in Silverlake---the same set of offices overlooking the store with their thick stucco walls densely layered with enamel (I know because I'd sneaked up there as a little kid and checked out the paint thickness where it was chipped)---now there's no mistaking it's Hub because there's that sweet old Jewish guy (Herb?) running the deli section up front and he's cajoling the customers. But now I'm thinking 'hasn't he been dead?' now wondering if it might not be his brother or even an older son. He notices me and waves me over. The checkout woman now speaking perfect English tells me 'Don't worry about the groceries. It's important, so you'd better go'---but now checkout thief alarm goes off and the red light twirling---now it's all like Las Vegas and people smiling everywhere and the checkout lady congratulating me with confetti raining down on her oddly space-helmet like hairdo---the Jewish guy's brother now standing next to me with his dirty deli apron and he's got a sort of cheap toy-like phony looking microphone---the tv crew alongside and he smiles with big buck teeth while shaking my hand forcefully. He comes over to whisper something but I can't understand through all the party sounds. I can smell his breath which is like mint and tobacco just like my long ago 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Skinner who drove a brand new Mustang. He's now hand-gesturing and signals for everything to stop and it all goes pin drop. I say 'wow' and the MC deli guy shushes me and then starts slowly and rhythmically to clap. Checkout lady picks it up and then it's everyone in unison and nobody is paying any attention to me---they're all looking up at a huge big screen monitor at the back of the store and I'm thrilled to see Don Drysdale on the mound in old black-and-white sad tv and now I see it's not broadcast tv but a slide show. I slip out when I pass the doors I see we're in the loge section of Dodger Stadium. The stairs are steep and I need to hold the rail and now it's getting even steeper and I'm holding on but it's slippery and I'm sliding down like a fireman and come to rest at the railing.

1 Comments:

Blogger karma said...

Very good writing! A treat to read ... I'm blogrolling you :)

7:35 AM  

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