What is real? I think about this a lot as both of my parents suffer from neurological conditions that have altered their view of reality.
This time of year I dream more, deeper, and the memories record intricate level of detail. Sometimes I can remember entire sequences, and sometimes I'm convinced I was alive and real and breathing in full moments I can play over and over again.
This morning I was at a conference, something youth-oriented because there were many young people and I was staying in the same hotel. I think I've been to this place before on that other plane of existence. After all, I'm almost always a reporter in my dreams. I can afford to travel when I sleep, but these days I'm mostly homebound.
At the conference, Senator Mark Warner had given a speech in one of the halls but I got there late and was cross at myself but was trying to convince myself it would be okay if I could just land an interview.
So I did my best to corral the Senator, who I met in real life a month into his governorship when I went to Martinsville to cover some event down there. I wonder if I can find the story? I think I also may have gone to the inauguration.
Anyway, as he left the main room after giving a speech, I managed to convince him I was a reporter and I just wanted a few minutes of his time. He didn't have a handler so I just went straight in and managed to convince him to let me interview him. He said he could do so, but he had to make a personal phone call.
He went into a phone booth, either a tell I was in a dream or a sign the hotel had a retro vibe. I didn't have recording equipment, so I waited patiently with my phone. There was a rectangular table nearby and I sat and waited. A few other reporters notices me, and sat down to join the gaggle.
I led the questions, and I was surprised to hear myself in interview mode, something I don't do anymore in real life. I asked him about the campaign, and dream-memory doesn't quite record what he said.
One of the people at the table appeared to begin to ask a question, but it turned into a constituent who just wanted to tell the Senator their view.
I politely stopped them and told them this was a press interview and we had limited time to get questions answered. When the person protested, I cut them off and got right back into my questions.
And then Henry Graff showed up! I guess we were in Richmond. I think he's still going out there.
With the interview conducted, I hoofed it to my hotel room so I could process the sound and try to get something on the airwaves. I enjoyed the sensation of being in a crowd, and I could feel the energy of all the assembled people. I'd been in that conference center before, and I thought back to other times.
When I got to the rooms, the halls were crowded with young people trying to get into their rooms and I dreaded being in close proximity. I didn't see any chaperones and figured it would be a late night.
When I got to my door, it was open and there was a young man who thought it was his room, but I assured him it was not, and sent him on his way. I closed the door, opened up the laptop, and got to work.
And woke up wondering where I had just been and why I hadn't gotten a story out of the experience.
(now to work)
This time of year I dream more, deeper, and the memories record intricate level of detail. Sometimes I can remember entire sequences, and sometimes I'm convinced I was alive and real and breathing in full moments I can play over and over again.
This morning I was at a conference, something youth-oriented because there were many young people and I was staying in the same hotel. I think I've been to this place before on that other plane of existence. After all, I'm almost always a reporter in my dreams. I can afford to travel when I sleep, but these days I'm mostly homebound.
At the conference, Senator Mark Warner had given a speech in one of the halls but I got there late and was cross at myself but was trying to convince myself it would be okay if I could just land an interview.
So I did my best to corral the Senator, who I met in real life a month into his governorship when I went to Martinsville to cover some event down there. I wonder if I can find the story? I think I also may have gone to the inauguration.
Anyway, as he left the main room after giving a speech, I managed to convince him I was a reporter and I just wanted a few minutes of his time. He didn't have a handler so I just went straight in and managed to convince him to let me interview him. He said he could do so, but he had to make a personal phone call.
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I led the questions, and I was surprised to hear myself in interview mode, something I don't do anymore in real life. I asked him about the campaign, and dream-memory doesn't quite record what he said.
One of the people at the table appeared to begin to ask a question, but it turned into a constituent who just wanted to tell the Senator their view.
I politely stopped them and told them this was a press interview and we had limited time to get questions answered. When the person protested, I cut them off and got right back into my questions.
And then Henry Graff showed up! I guess we were in Richmond. I think he's still going out there.
With the interview conducted, I hoofed it to my hotel room so I could process the sound and try to get something on the airwaves. I enjoyed the sensation of being in a crowd, and I could feel the energy of all the assembled people. I'd been in that conference center before, and I thought back to other times.
When I got to the rooms, the halls were crowded with young people trying to get into their rooms and I dreaded being in close proximity. I didn't see any chaperones and figured it would be a late night.
When I got to my door, it was open and there was a young man who thought it was his room, but I assured him it was not, and sent him on his way. I closed the door, opened up the laptop, and got to work.
And woke up wondering where I had just been and why I hadn't gotten a story out of the experience.
(now to work)
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