Mirror

This is a weird dream I just had.



I was working in a small open air shop, in an extremely crowded bazaar when a man dressed like Colonel Sanders came up to me and said 'you're needed'.

I motioned towards the shop and the crowds and he said 'leave it, come on.'

I don't think I followed him because he disappeared into the crowd, but I knew where to go.

I started down this dusty crowded dirt road. For some reason I couldn't walk very well. I was lame.

I arrived at this large open air tent, without sides. It was busy here too, but not like at the bazaar or on the road.

It was dirt floor and dusty but no one had dust on themselves or trouble seeing or breathing.

Colonel Sanders reappeared and pointed to a bench for me to sit down. there were lots of other people milling around but I was glad he was getting me a seat.

The bench was full of Doctors and lawyers and statesmen and other men of importance. It was all men.

They all had to shift down one so I could take a seat.

Colonel Sanders disappeared again. I sat for a few minutes then noticed all the people milling about were black. And, almost most all of them were women and children, except you only knew they were children because they were small.

I noticed one particularly old black women milling about so I stood up and offered her my seat, which she took.

I stood for a few minutes then they called my name. Colonel Sanders re appeared and we shuffled into the centre of the tent. There was a massive ancient central pole, like six telephone poles, in the centre holding the tent up. There were very very few people her, but some.

An older black woman and a younger one appeared with Colonel Sanders and handed him what appeared to be the mirror out of a cars large rear view mirror assembly. He showed it to me and said ' she wants you to put all her sons pictures on it.' It wasn't said, but I knew her son was handicapped, both mentally and physically.

The older woman started slowly walking, circling within her large tent with a small entourage following her, conducting her business.

I handled the bit of glass, flipped it over and over and then said 'its just a mirror.'

The younger woman said 'look at your reflection.'

I did and there was no reflection.

She took it back, touched the end and showed me my reflection. She stood beside me, and framed both of us in the mirror.

'Smile' she said.

She then touched a different part of the mirror, and showed me a mirror image of me looking at and examining the mirror and her and I smiling at the mirror.

They were pictures, but more than pictures. They were the reflections the mirror had seen.

She handed the mirror back to me and said 'she wants all of my brothers pictures on this. Can you do it?'

I flipped it over and over and over. There were no connections no ports, nothing. It was just a mirror, but more than a mirror.

By this time the older woman had completed one semi random  circling within the tent with her entourage.

She stopped to hear my answer.

'Well. I've never seen anything like this, but I've got a playbook and an ipad. But, well, I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before'.

The sound of lamenting came from somewhere and the older woman and her entourage continued their business and shuffling about the tent.

The younger woman frowned at me and took the mirror device back.

'no wait, wait' I said and tried to catch up to the older woman, but found I just could not walk. I looked on in frustration as the older woman and her entourage disappeared out of site.

The younger woman put her arm around my waist and turned me around the other way.

'Come on' she said, 'we will catch her coming this way.'

The entourage appeared then everyone melted away except for me and the mother.

I  opened my arms up, and she hers. We embraced and hugged and hugged and hugged.

'I try.' I said. 'I'll try'.

We cried and and cried and cried.



Its twelve noon and I'm still crying. Must be the steroids.

It's just a second - continued

It's just a second - continued

Its just a second

It's just a second

 a small elderly man sits in a single recliner chair in a small one bedroom apartment in a seniors home. A young woman is leaning over him attaching a small wireless lapel microphone.

young woman - 'There that should do it.'

A young man finishes setting up a tripod, attaches a video  camera and focuses on the elderly man. Under his breath, to no one in particular he says 'we need more light.' He finishes fiddling with his equipment and leans in towards the young woman.

young man - 'We need more light. We need to open the curtains.'

He heads towards the window.To the young man the woman says, 'just a sec.'

To the elderly man she says 'we need more light, we need to open the curtains.'

elderly man, 'aye? whats that?'

woman louder, 'light. we need more light. we're going to open the curtains; OK.'

 elderly man, 'aye? more light?' Turn on all the lights.' 

The young woman looks quizzically at the young man. The young man frowns and holds his hand up and open pointing towards the window. She pauses, thinks a second, and then turns towards the elderly man.

young woman louder - 'yes ok, we will turn on all the lights, but natural lights better. Can we open the curtains?'

elderly man, 'oh yes, sure sure sure. but just close them when you leave, I have a hard time drawing them my self. but go ahead, do what you need to do.'

The young man heads to the window and opens the curtains.

young woman  - 'OK, thank you, we are just about set. So are you ready?'

elderly man,  - 'well I'm not really sure. I don't really know what you want.'

 young woman  - 'Anything. Any story or anecdote or history from your life, you know, just fell free to talk, talk about anything.'

elderly man,  - 'aye? any story?'

young woman, louder  -  Yes anything, any story.'

The woman looked at the young man behind the video camera. He nodded at her and gave a thumbs up.

elderly man,  - 'hmmm. a story. any story?'

young woman, louder  -  Yes any story.'

The elderly man rubbed his chin and looked down at his lap.

elderly man - ' any story. hmm. where to begin.'

young woman, louder  -  Well, why don't you start with your age.'

The eldery man smiled glanced at the young woman and then looked directly into the camera.

elderly man,  - 'aye? Start with my age and not my name? Ok. OK, I've got a story for you. I am  ninety or ninety-one, depending on how you figure it.'

The young woman looked at the young man who pointed to his head and touched his temple. The young woman smiled.

 young woman, - 'how old are you?'

 elderly man,  - 'aye? ninety or ninety-one, depending.' 

 young woman, - 'you don't know how old you are?'

 elderly man,  - 'Of course I  do. I just told you.'

The young woman frowned for a second.

 young woman, louder - 'your drivers license. How old does it say you are on your drivers license?'

 elderly man,  - 'clever girl. I don't have a drivers license, those bastards took it away. It doesn't say how old you are on your drivers license anyway, it just says when you were born.'

young woman, louder - 'do you know when you were born?'

elderly man,  - 'Good grief woman, of course I do. But you wanted my age, and my age depends on how you figure it. Let me explain.'

 young woman - 'yes yes, please go ahead.'

  elderly man,  - 'when I was young, in my teens and pre-teens, if you wanted to mark out ten seconds you would count, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine, ten."
Then in mid life, my forties, you would mark out ten seconds by counting "one and, two and, three and," and so on.
Now  you count out ten seconds by counting "one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand," and so on.'

The young woman looked away toward the young man and then back to the elderly man.

  young woman - 'ya..so....I don't get it.'

elderly man,  - ' and in twenty years, well no, probably more like ten years the way things are going, you would count out ten seconds by counting "one one thousand and, two one thousand  and, three one thousand and," and so on and so on.'

young woman - 'so....so you mean seconds are getting longer??'

 elderly man,  - 'exactly. and consequently I am  ninety or ninety-one, depending on how you figure it, depending if you use current seconds or seconds from my birth.'

The young woman opened her mouth slightly and turned towards the young man. The young man popped his head out from behind the video camera, looked at the young woman, raised his eyebrows, and went back behind the camera. The young woman turned back to the elderly man.

 young woman - 'but, its just a second, its not even that, its less than the time to say a word.'

  elderly man,  - 'exactly.  its just a second, less than a fraction of a second actually, but its the basis of all our time. those fractions add up.'

  young woman - 'but we all have watches and clocks and ways of keeping time, and they all agree. no one else says this, maybe you've just remembered things wrong.'

elderly man,  - 'maybe, but I've still got all my marbles. no one else says this because you need to live through it and be alert to observe it. its not just a matter of remembering but a matter of remembering and observing. most of the people here have lived long enough to have lived through it, but none of them will have observed it. And even if they did, by this age they allow others to convince them they are wrong.'

  young woman - 'this is crazy. watches and clocks; they all agree. time is not getting longer! you're delusional.'

 elderly man,  - 'its not time is getting longer, its our measure of time that is getting longer.'

 young woman, louder - 'watches! clocks! cellphones! computers! tv! they all agree.'

I was reading this book....well no, I guess if we are going to start off we've got to start off honestly.

I was listening to this audio book, that I gleefully downloaded from the internet, that was going on and on about experts ands people at the top of their game. The whole thesis of the book was that expertise, or being brilliant at something all just came down to routine practice. Practice, practice practice. That concert pianist, violin verseroso, were they born with talent? Not so much. They just started early and practiced lots; and I mean lots.

This book went so far as to estimate how much practice you had to put in to become top of your field. The writer figured you needed to put in around ten thousand hours. The way he put it was our brains needed about ten thousand hours of repetition to become expert at something. I can think of several things I should be expert at by now, but lets not go there.

What I've always wanted to do is write. Being an expert writer would be an added bonus. But what I've never really done is write anything. I've just whined about it. So,on this blog I'm going to try and write something every day, for about an hour. That will give me 365 hours a year...about 1,000 hours every 3 years...so...I'll be an expert writer in...lets see...30 years. Thirty years!

Thirty years. Well,I don't need to be the top of my field, I don't need to be the best writer, I just need to be a writer. And writers write, that's what makes a good writer. I'm going to write for an hour every day.

Lets see, how long has it been. Ten minutes. Hmmm. I'm going to have to write slower.

 -------------

 2014/03/26
 Well, that certainly didn't happen. And whats worse is I never finished one of my stories. Oh dear.
 On the positive side, I have done some writing, just not story writing. Check out my other blogs.


My other blogs:
OpenVZ on Debian                -  http://openvzondeb.blogspot.ca/
Linux Server Hardening        -  http://linuxserverhardening.blogspot.ca/
Icecast on Debian                  -  http://icecastondebian.blogspot.ca/2013/10/page-one_31.html
SSHFS with rcync                 -  http://usingsshfs.blogspot.ca/
SOCKS Tunneling                 -  http://sockstunneling.blogspot.ca/ 
Kobo Arc 7", 64GB               -  http://koboarc.blogspot.ca/ [*new*]
and, a few works in progress:
Short Stories                          -  http://louisebridgewrites.blogspot.ca/
Android TV Sticks                -  http://tvsticks.blogspot.ca/


My Streams:
Ices information panel          -  http://www.eclectica.mx:8000/

One of my streams is an all Neil Young stream.To see its listing on the Icecast Directory [at:  http://dir.xiph.org/ ] search for Neil.
The search results will be: Neil Young [x listeners] " All Neil Young, and only Neil Young."

[all links in this article worked as of 2014/03/25 ]