Van Halen Dream
I've been re-reading bits of Freud for some reason lately. Perhaps that's why my unconscious decided to become a bit more active last night. (Can an unconscious "decide"?)
Well, I dreamed last night that I went to the Van Halen reunion concert. (I didn't go to the real concernt; I like Van Halen but am not a superfan.) Interestingly, the concert was not in an arena; it was a small, rather rustic cottage or cabin, roughly the size of my living room. Van Halen were playing on a hardwood floor mere feet from the audience (no stage). What's more, the venue was nowhere near full; roughly nine fans were in attendance. Yet VH seemed very grateful for the crowd, as if they preferred to have an intimate evening with a few good fans. David Lee Roth allowed each of us in the audience to sing a line or two here and there (I sang a line from "Jump," not a song to which my conscious daylight self is particularly attached). After completing "Jump," the band broke for a moment, and then Eddie Van Halen approached the microphone and said, "Thanks. We're happy to have with us a very special guest here tonight: California State Senator Don Peratta, and we'd like him to sing the next song." Sure enough, Peratta was in the crowd, chatting into the ear of a friend. He looked a bit sheepish about getting onstage, though not surprised at the request. I don't remember whether Peratta sang. Someone turned to me and said, "You know, it's amazing. When you talk to Eddie, he has no accent at all. But Alex Van Halen's Australian accent is very clear."
I don't think the Van Halen brothers hail from down under.
Any armchair psychoanalysts out there wanna tackle this one?
Wait -- aren't all psychoanalysts kind of "arm chair"? I mean, it's a sit down job, isn't it?
Neurotically yours,
Mark
Well, I dreamed last night that I went to the Van Halen reunion concert. (I didn't go to the real concernt; I like Van Halen but am not a superfan.) Interestingly, the concert was not in an arena; it was a small, rather rustic cottage or cabin, roughly the size of my living room. Van Halen were playing on a hardwood floor mere feet from the audience (no stage). What's more, the venue was nowhere near full; roughly nine fans were in attendance. Yet VH seemed very grateful for the crowd, as if they preferred to have an intimate evening with a few good fans. David Lee Roth allowed each of us in the audience to sing a line or two here and there (I sang a line from "Jump," not a song to which my conscious daylight self is particularly attached). After completing "Jump," the band broke for a moment, and then Eddie Van Halen approached the microphone and said, "Thanks. We're happy to have with us a very special guest here tonight: California State Senator Don Peratta, and we'd like him to sing the next song." Sure enough, Peratta was in the crowd, chatting into the ear of a friend. He looked a bit sheepish about getting onstage, though not surprised at the request. I don't remember whether Peratta sang. Someone turned to me and said, "You know, it's amazing. When you talk to Eddie, he has no accent at all. But Alex Van Halen's Australian accent is very clear."
I don't think the Van Halen brothers hail from down under.
Any armchair psychoanalysts out there wanna tackle this one?
Wait -- aren't all psychoanalysts kind of "arm chair"? I mean, it's a sit down job, isn't it?
Neurotically yours,
Mark
posted by Mark Meritt at 9:43 PM
2 Comments:
I definitely cannot plumb your subconscious, but I think that having Don Perata there is hilarious.
I don't know if an unconscious can make decisions, but if it does, you won't be conscious of it.
I remember an annoyed prof's response to a question about his unconscious: "How the hell would I know?"
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