Discovering a horrific plane crash

I was with some people from work, going somewhere vaguely work-related when we saw smoke, emergency vehicles and lots of people up on an overpass. As we got closer, we saw that a massive passenger jet had crashed onto an elevated highway.

We walked up onto the overpass, among the police and ambulances, looking at what happened and vaguely wondering if we could help. There were bodies scattered on the rocks that surrounded the broken body of the plane.

Near the front of the plane many of the seats were intact. We walked up to the front row, where three well-dressed people in their 60s were still buckled into their seats. At first, I felt this horror feeling and thought they were dead. Then they started to move and fumble with their seat belts.

They were in shock, but could speak to us and move about. They were very gentle, with the nicest manners, thanking us for helping them, etc. At first, I attributed their gentleness to their state of shock. But as we led them away from the plane into some kind of room or building, it became clear that they were simply very genteel, refined people.

In the dream, I realized that I never wanted to fly again, after seeing first hand what a plane crash looks like.

I woke up still believing I was in the dream, thinking about how the passengers we helped were travelling first class, since they were sitting at the front of the plane.

Wine and the Concrete Banquet

Lots of wine was drunk tonight at the Second Concrete Banquet, but I couldn't tell you what vintage.

5 groupuscules met at 5ish at a park on the Plateau, just before sunset, in high costume.

We dressed as if the Queen of England would join us.

Each groupuscule was to make a contribution to the dinner's entertainment: Bacchus and lanterns.

We brought hot buttered rum: there was an October chill in the air, and that helped. The sky was a brilliant blue and the leaves yellow, gold and red. Until the sun disappeared behind the mountain.

Our geodesic dome helped create an atmosphere of sorts, and the Wild Children played there safely. For a while.

It will be even better, next year.

Les Palombrieres -- Complicated. Surprising. Lovely.

Okay, so first we bought a couple of acceptable bottles of wine at Costco. For the party tomorrow. And then we drank them. So today I went out and bought another bottle for the party tomorrow. An eleven-dollar bottle of French wine. The usual.

Golly. What a surprise. Admittedly we popped it, or rather, screw topped it, before the party tomorrow. But that's okay. Right? I mean, it was kind of a rough week...

At first sip, Les Palombieres (Tannat/Merlot, Cotes de Gascogne 2007) was... totally surprisingly absolutely delightful. It tasted like raspberries. So fresh. But not young. Kind of innocent... but not really. You know what I'm talking about.

It's like, they took a Merlot and then cuddled all the macho out of it. So that it's all sweet -- looking at you doe-eyed (blink, blink). And then you realize that it never was macho; it's something else altogether, completely original.

But after a couple glasses, it starts to get a little dull. You look for that spark, but now it just seems like all the others. What happened?

Matt Bisonnette head of business development at SSMU

Yeah, so where did THIS dream come from?

My old friend from highschool, and Brian Mulroney's nephew, was head of business development at SSMU. I chanced to meet him, walking into the student union building at McGill. (A lot had happened before this part of the dream, but I will relate from here...) So he shows me how SSMU had decided (on his advice) to intensify the student union by building housing up on top of the 3-storey enclosed area, that they owned (nothing like what is there now, in the real world, by the by..., but hey, this is a dream! whaddya want?). I could see where the forms were. He explained that he wanted to go up 8 storeys, but only got permission for 6. I was impressed at the foresite, and his business acumen.

Three Dee Tank Dream...

I dreamt last night that I was playing that 3-d first person shooter video game from 1980, Battlezone. But it was updated and full scale, so I was walking around inside a virtual reality of tanks and pyramids. Rocky was with me.

Domaine de la Janasse arrives fashionably late

This is what happens sometimes in the summer. A bunch of red wine drinkers get together; but it's sweltering, inside and out, so everyone brings white or rosée. And they all confess... they'd rather be drinking red, but thought something lighter was more appropriate.

And everyone politely sips white wine. Or rosée. And it's lovely. But as the night gets darker and cooler we start to get more honest with ourselves. Now we earned the right to drink red. And red is poured and relished and things get considerably more interesting.

And that gets me to... ohhh... delicious. Domaine de la Janasse, vin du pays de la principauté d'Orange. On first sniff, first sip, it was like crackly caramel and blackberries and chocolate.

And the talk gets weirder and more intense. And we can once again claim our rightful place as dedicated red wine drinkers.

Hangover dream & the "POW" tattoo

Golly, there was a lot going on in my brain in the early hours.

I dreamed that I was getting a tattoo.

I remember explaining pop art to the tattoo artist, talking about Lichtenstein and how wanted a cartoonish "POW" on my arm.

Funny that my pre-dawn hangover intruded... in my dream, I was taking Tylenol to try and feel better. Despite reminding myself that I had popped an Advil mere hours earlier.