Unfinished Dreams; and R. Crumb

I dreamed I was a rookie cop. I was unfamiliar with the city where I was supposed to go to work, and unfamiliar with the procedures. The cops who came to pick me up to show me the ropes were patient, but I was unable to find my clothes. We had just moved into this new place where we were living, and I was unsure where Ellie had put everything. She was still fast asleep. I managed to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and asked if these were appropriate. The female cop told me they weren't so I set about looking for other things to wear--a pair of sweat pants, no shirt... and it was particularly galling that I could find no underwear. Eventually we set out to the city streets in the unmarked cop car...

Sorry, friends, I don't remember any more. I do remember, though, the fragment of another dream. I had started smoking cigarettes again, after twenty years. I was lighting up these long, thin, poorly packed home-made jobs, and Ellie was mad at me because she said I had smoked at least five or six already that day; to which I retorted angrily that, no, I had only smoked two or three. However, curiously, I did wake myself up with a smoker's cough. I used to have one, so I know what it feels like, and this was definitely a smoker's cough. I woke up hacking away, and feeling that nasty tickle in the throat...

So there you have it. I had to get up very early today, to record an interview for my Art of Outrage series. My next piece will be about R. Crumb, whose hilariously indecorous cartoons have been a vital feature on the comix landscape for the past forty years.


(This image pirated from the artist's website, with apologies...) The show I'm working on has been traveling for a while, ending up at the Grand Central Art Center in Santa Ana. The artist, I hear, is currently working on his own version of the Genesis story...


Have a good one.