Today Is Your Performance!


Dreamed I was in a large rehearsal room. There was about thirty people with musical instruments; most were string instruments. They were each practicing a solo, so it was pretty cacophonous. What they were practicing was really virtuosic material; sounded really technically difficult.

Finally, somebody walked up to me and said, “Today is your performance.”

And I said, ” Wait a minute; I’m not really ready for a performance today”

And the guy (the coordinator) said, “You really can’t put this off anymore. It has to be today”

He handed me a sheet and I said, “Wait a minute….”

but he walked away.

So I read the sheet, and it kept referring to the performance as a recital or a competition or an audition.

It was the guidelines of the performance: It said your performance had to be about 15 minutes, and they preferred to hear sonatas, but not ones that were too “long or boring”.

So I wondered where a singer would fit into all this. So thought of my repertoire and thought of some arias that would fit in the fifteen minute parameters, that would contrast well and could be done back to back. But maybe they wanted to hear something else, like a song cycle or even a solo excerpt from a master work, or…… who knows. And was I going to get an accompanist?

So I went back to the coordinator, and asked him what they wanted of vocalists.

He said, “They want to hear you play violin first, but if they’re interested they will hear you sing”.

I said, “You know, it has been quite awhile since I’ve played violin, and honestly, I have never played at this level.”

He said, “Well, it is very important you give a good performance and make no mistakes.”

I realized I was absolutely fucked, but I took a look at the “Performance Guidelines” sheet, and found this paragraph:

“You will find we are a most difficult and demanding group before whom to perform. If at any time, we are displeased with your presentation, we will decide to vaporize you”

So I went back to the coordinator, who seemed annoyed at all my questions, and shared my concern about that paragraph.

“What’s this about getting vaporized?”

The coordinator answered,”Oh, they only do that to people who are out of practice”.

I told him I was going to grab something to eat before my performance, but what I was really going to do was try to get an emergency coaching session so I could put together a program for the vocal part of the audition/competition/recital; whatever it was.

I figured the string portion of the performance was a lost cause, but perhaps I might be able to save my skin with a few arias, but I sure as hell didn’t want to wing it. As soon as I got outside, I would call every coach I knew and see it they could fit me in last minute.

Once I got outside, I realized I had been in the Academy of Arts and Letters on 155th & Broadway, and the performance was going to be in the underground theatre there. I also noticed there was a big, old-school smokestack sticking up, like something you’d see outside of a mill.

It then blew out this big billow of smoke, and somebody on the street commented, “Hey, looks like somebody was out of practice!”

I realized just how utterly fucked I was before I woke up.


Surgery: Gentlemen Must Wear a Tie!


Dreamed I was about to undergo surgery, but I was in my regular street clothes, and the anesthesiologist was about to put me under.

But he handed me a couple of pills and told me to take them.

I said, “Wait, arent you going to give me an IV or a mask?”

The anesthesiologist said,”No, they don’t work as well as the pills. It’ll be a little while before the pills start to kick in, so just take a walk. When you start feeling sleepy, come back here and lie down on the table. You’ll pass out and we’ll get to work.”

So I went out for a walk. I didn’t want to stray too far from the hospital, just in case I started feeling sleepy. I didn’t want to pass out in the street, so I walked around a few hours. But I didn’t feel sleepy.

So finally I went back into the hospital, found the anesthesiologist and said,”Doc, I don’t think these pills are working. I am not sleepy at all!”

The anesthesiologist says,”I can give you two more, but I’ll have to take your drivers license. Can’t have you passing out at the wheel!”

So I walked around a few more hours, but didn’t feel sleepy at all. Went back to the hospital and I told the anesthesiologist this. He told me to come back the next day in business attire.

At this point, I was really pissed because I just wanted to get this over with, and it seemed like I was jumping through a lot of hoops that went nowhere, but the next day I came back. I opted for a more casual look.

And when I got there, there were a whole bunch of people in business attire who said I was underdressed. I explained I was just here to have surgery, but they told me that to see the doctor I needed a tie.

Finally I just got fed up, went home and waited for whatever ailed me in the first place to kill me.

Comic Opera in its Truest Form


Dreamed I was in the chorus of an opera; a standard one I knew well.

Found out on performance day, we would also be doing another opera in concert form, with score. Only problem was it was a premiere opera. We hadn’t rehearsed it, but they told us they would be giving us the scores for the performance. In other words we would be sight reading it. Not only that, but I was the only one in my part.

When I protested that I really wasn’t comfortable with that, they said, “You do know how to read music, don’t you?”

well, yes….. but.

So they pass out the scores right before we go out into the house. They’re the big green hardcover Schirmer scores.

And when I open it, I see that it is not written in music notation. It is in comic book form.

Not only that, but it switches on a dime between English, Italian, and some Asian language written in characters.

But no staff, notes, rests or clefs. Just cartoon characters in panels, speech bubbles, thought bubbles, all switching between three different languages.

Nobody else seemed worried, but I really couldn’t make sense of the “score”. I realized how fucked I was, but then I was saved by waking up.

Just leave the Girlfriend on the Island!


Dreamed I was watching the movie “Cast Away” with Tom Hanks, where he gets stranded on an island.

Except it was a different version. His girlfriend was stranded on the island with him.

When he made the raft, he and his girlfriend got into an argument, because he wanted to bring Wilson the Volleyball on the raft with him, and she didn’t, because there wouldn’t be enough space.

So he says,”Screw you, then” and rides off into ocean on the raft with Wilson.

Well, he gets rescued, just like in the regular version, and they find out his girlfriend is still on the island.

They say,” shouldn’t we go back and get her?”

And Tom Hanks says,”Nah, just leave her there.”

This random Filipino lady says,”Boy that is a real assholey thing to do. You are a real asshole!”

So I asked the person next to me,”Hey, I thought this movie had a different plot”

The person next to me said,”Yeah, but this version is cheaper to produce.”

Then I woke up.

Remote Control School


Dreamed I was back in elementary school and was going to a school assembly in the gym.

For some reason on the way there, I had picked up this odd little device that looked something like a TV remote, so I put it in my pocket.

Well, the assembly began, and I got bored and began fiddling with the device. Turned out it WAS a remote. For the whole school.

Since the lighting wasn’t great, and the remote was under my shirt, nobody could see it, and I pushed a button.

The microphone system went dead.

Then I pushed it again, and it came back on.

Everybody wondered what had happened.

Then I fiddled with another button and all the lights went out.

I figured I’d make everybody think the school was haunted, so I started pushing random buttons all over the remote.

The lights went on and off, the basketball hoop raised up and down, the doors opened and closed and the janitors mop started flying around the room. The janitor’s broom started flying around the room, too, with the principal’s secretary on it (which was apropos).

Everybody was wondering what was going on, but a teacher called me over and said,
“Why are you ruining this assembly for everybody? Why did you bring that thing in here?”

I answered that I didn’t know what the thing was for at first, I only brought it in because it looked cool and only found out what it did after the assembly started.

The teacher was going to take it away and report me to the principal, where I would be in big trouble, so I aimed the remote at her, pushed a button, and POOF!
She disappeared!

So then I hoped I would remember what button I pushed, just for when I wanted to make her reappear again, but another teacher caught me. I wondered if pushing the same button would make that teacher disappear, or make the other one reappear.

For now, I wanted them both disappeared, but I wasn’t sure which button would do that, and I woke up before I found out.

15 for Rob’s Head


Dreamed I was out in the Hamptons, and found out there was a price on my head. $15.

There were all these “Wanted! Dead or Alive” posters up with a grainy, black & white photo of me, offering a $15 reward.

At first I thought it was a joke, but then I heard a bunch of rich people talking about what they were going to do with their “Rob” money if they found me. All $15 of it.

So, later, for whatever reason, I found myself in some guy’s living room. It had one of those large, plate glass picture windows. It started raining really hard, and pretty soon it was a full scale storm, with huge gales of wind.

There was a huge gust of wind that blew in the plate glass window, and the guy said,”Quick! Everybody down the basement!”

So we went down the basement, and as soon as we’re down there the guy tells me he had set the whole storm up, just to trap me and get his $15.

I remembered the huge window in his living room and said,”Well, that was an expensive way to make a lousy $15!”

Not often I get to have the last word in a dream before I wake up!

Donald Trump’s Crazy Half Brother…


Dreamed Donald Trump had a half brother and we just found out he lived behind our bathroom sink.

Every evening, he would emerge and want to watch the Republican National Convention on TV.

I had to remind him the RNC was over and he had to watch the Democratic Convention.

And he’d put his hands over his ears, and start singing a song that sounded like “Don’t Stop Believing”.

Except the words he was singing was about how great Donald Trump was.

He claimed Melania Trump wrote the song.

I told him, no, it was a Journey song and he was singing the wrong words.

To which he completely wigged out and then sulked behind the bathroom sink.

Mary asked when we were going to get rid of him, but I didn’t know.

Then I woke up.

Didn’t You Like Robotic Mary


Dreamed I was going to have some surgery. I was in Patient Registration, but instead of filling out forms, I was given a touchscreen to use.

I figured “OK, that makes sense. Technological advances, and all that.”

So, one of the questions is “Would you have any objection to your surgery being performed robotically?”

And I thought,”Why not? If a robot could do a better job, and there is less margin for error, that’s cool with me.”

So I clicked, “No objection”

And continued with the registration process.

At the end, though, the chair I was sitting in started rolling out of the registration room all by itself. And other furniture and other items, including counters moved out of the way, too.

And an automated voice started talking to me “Good Morning, Robert! How are you feeling today?”

And started making conversation with me (with a perfectly nuanced voice) all the way down the hall up an elevator to the pre-op area

Once I got there, I protested, “Hey, Mary was supposed to come and keep me company until the surgery!”

And the automated voice said,”Robotic Mary will be here soon. She’s on her way.”

And I said,”I don’t want Robotic Mary. I want Real Mary!”

But at that moment, a vacuum tube dropped out of the ceiling and started sucking my clothes off, like a vacuum cleaner.

Then it dressed me in a hospital gown and put me on a gurney and put an IV in. The gurney started rolling on it’s own accord down the hall, same as before, talking to me in that automated, but nuanced voice. I noticed it had a pipe that arched over it, and I surmised the navigation beacon was up there.

I voiced that I was not happy about not seeing Mary and the gurney asked,”Didn’t you like Robotic Mary?”

And I answered,”No!”

Soon we reached the operating room. On one side, it looked like a typical OR: bright lights, computer screens, surgical implements. But not a doctor in sight.

But on the other side it was carpeted, had a big leather sofa, a bar, a flat screen TV on the wall and mood lighting. And the entire surgical team was sitting on the sofa, their backs toward me, watching a football game on the flat screen. I think they were the surgical team. They were wearing scrubs.

So I said,”Ummmmm?”

And one of them, beer in hand around and said,”Yo.”

And turned back around to watch the game.

Then I woke up.

I guess I failed to mention in the dream, that while I wouldn’t mind a robot performing the surgery after I was put under, I like human beings for pre and post op. And I want Real Mary, not Robotic Mary!

Although the concept of a self-navigating gurney is kind of cool. Although I think I can manage my own clothes without them being sucked off me.

You Don’t Play when the Man in Black is Playing


Dreamed Mary & I were at a Johnny Cash concert (apparently he was resurrected from the dead)

He was following the Live at Folsom Prison repertoire.

For some reason, I had my guitar with me, even though I was sitting in the audience.

He announced he was going to sing “The Green Green Grass of Home.”

So I played a few chords from it.

Johnny Cash gave me a really dirty look, got out a piece of paper and scrawled a note on it, which he handed to one of the roadies.

The roadie came over and handed me the note.

It said:

“Shut up!

Go away!”

and had a whole bunch of angry looking emoji written on it, kind of like this:


I looked over at Mary; she was really embarrassed and said,”This is why you don’t play when the Man in Black is playing!”

Presenting the iRobot Dromba!

Dreamed iRobot/Roomba came out with a new product, called a “Dromba”
It was a drone that would fly around your home and pick your stuff up. Not only would it remember where all your stuff was and put it where it belonged, you could send it on shopping trips with a “list”; it would know where the store was, and where you lived to get home. It could also pick up a toilet brush and clean your toilet, or a sponge clean your sink.
They had a video commercial for it and it was really cool.
Of course, I thought it was awesome, but realized that since it just came out, there would be no way I could afford it sticker price. So I started looking on eBay, for a “new without box” item.
I was really psyched that a drone could pick up my apartment, go shopping and clean my toilet but then I woke up.
Boy was I disappointed.
But I think something like that not too far off!