Zevon and the truth about dreams

What in the world have you new people been reading?

104 views from only 8 different people yesterday... you folks need a hobby.

I am back home after possibly the best Lotusphere in years. It was spectacular and huge, kinda like Sam, the new megawabbits. Suzanne and I had him on the bed last night hopping around, and he has grown some even just in the week I'd been gone. He decided he wanted to chew on me, so he took a nip out of my arm after unsuccessfully trying to eat my shirt. He can be a major brat at times, but only when it suits him. And not a single poop on the bed! At this age, Ben would have left an entire box full of Count Chocula for us to deal with, and probably peed on the sheets, too. Sam is more considerate.

Max isn't sure what to make of him. He was on the bed (when he wasn't chasing bugs around the room) and whopped him on the head once in a while, which Sam ignored. Max used to like wrestling Ben, but he seems more puzzled by Sam.

The diesel is back in action, eight hundred dollars later. The doors now open correctly, the fuel system and cooling systems are normal (though they left the coolant level a little low) and the entire car is covered with dust from Mark's driveway, which he shares with a neighboring farm. Time to wash the damn thing, engine and all. Hopefully it'll be warm enough this evening after I get out of work, I'll just take it over and blast it all with the high-pressure hose at the car wash and call it even. Nicer washes are for nicer weather.

I had a series of very strange dreams last night about cockroaches, a house I've never lived in, and a girl on whom I had a terrible crush in 9th grade. Not sure why all of a sudden she'd reappear in dreams after 30 years, but there she was. Anything can happen when you're asleep, or as the late Warren Zevon said, "except in dreams, you're never really free."

That's from "The French Inhaler," from his self-titled LP of 1972. Ah, Zevon, I still miss you, man...