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

Sunday, March 06, 2005

50's Hi Fi Dream


Big birthday party for me in some swanky seaside house maybe Malibu---from memory days there housesitting for Robert A. when he left for Austin. People arriving in buffed fat cars all rich, multilayered dense black like long ago movies. Perhaps dream now B&W---not sure---everything reeks of 'premier', 'Oscars' 'celebrityhood'. I spot an older version of James Dean like later 'Giant' oil tycoon character. He's doing facial/mouth/breathing exercises like some pufferfish---comical---but everyone studying him intently and not laughing; I go over to him and he greets me familiarly like an old friend but with a strange 'something's not right' look. He barely stands before sitting down again and continuing the same odd breathing, rotating shoulders, lifting up his legs in slow-motion like yoga but not quite; loosening-up preparatory motions---prizefighter, track athlete---He's wan, with no legendary aura about him---prosaic, even pathetic in his older years seeking attention like a child....Later...music playing in the background and ceremonial cake presentation with glowfaces pressing in---happy birthday singing begins with me half mouthing along. I not sure. Then halfway through an overwhelming singing voice dominates the room, taking over. Phenomenal electrical hair-standing radio hall sound---it's the skinny young Frank Sinatra at a hanging mike singing an otherworldly, heartbreakingly sad lang syne---his voice; the whole missing orchestra emanating from a huge space age 50's Hi-Fi. I'm upandclose amazed at it, wondering whatever happened to those modern names. Magnavox? Grundig? Wurlitzer? But oh my god that amazingly warm and luxurious sound---redolent furniture polish. I'm now lying out on the floor looking up the speakers---fabric panel cloth, small golden threads glinting, and thinking 'Oh man this is big luxury with those gold threads!' Obsessed with this old but very savvy technology all smart like aerospace with so many big sonic tubes pulsating orangeglow inside past the speakers; this is what makes Southern California so special!---these world class scientists creative---congregating here in big brains, Jet Propulsion Aerospaced in Silicon Valleys with orange crate orchards all purple magic mountains; nothing is wrong anymore and check out these stars! With even Frank Sinatra singing! I'm beside myself with crazy happy birthday aerospace stereo joy and yelling out 'Let's all dance!' 'We gotta DANCE!' And everyone takes it like direction with everything now movie scene---grips, stage men, makeup folks all scuttling about trying to set up equipment and it's clear we're in a studio stage set; not Malibu and Jimmy Dean alone without the crowd---looking over at me---looking through me. He's some sort of shaman sage and saying 'It's all a sham and you've been duped.'

6 Comments:

Anonymous Dr. Pants said...

Last night I dreamt that I ate a giant marshmallow. When I woke up my pillow was gone.

11:40 PM  
Anonymous Dr. Pants said...

BTW Man, I wish I could write like you do. Very Nice.

11:41 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Toasted it first I hope.

4:02 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Don't underestimate yourself about the writing thing. Your writing indicates to me that it's the one and only Pants---quite fancy and free.

4:06 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Such a strange flashback to that Malibu house.

3:09 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

It's one of the few times that place has returned as the scene of my dreams. Last time there were a lot of hitchhikers who visited asking me for a carton of eggs, which isn't too different from what happened in fact.

3:11 PM  

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