Dream 1
I was in some lobby area or an exhibit area for some museum. The room was wide, tall, polygonal, with window ceilings. To my back and left were a group of children in seats looking up to a cashier's desk or a podium, all so incongruous (even dim, where the rest of this lobby area was lit by window light) with the lobby area that it itself seemed like a museum exhibit or a movie set.
In the rest of the lobby area were black and white photographs blown up and printed on thick pieces of display board ranging from three to ten feet tall. Each photo had a state name titled into its side. These photos were from some book remembering a certain important area from the viewpoint of all these states. The only picture I remember at all is Arizona's. It looked like a model of an atom or molecule mixed with a cell dividing or the early processes of the human life cycle.
I saw somewhere a yellowed newspaper photo of a speaker who had become extremely successful at something. He was a short man, rather plain, with a Gerardo hairstyle and mustache and in a suit and tie that looked about twenty years out of date.
Now I was in the audience of one of his lectures. The auditorium was huge and packed. The stage was some kind of white, polished material, barren except for the guy. I was in some seat a few rows from the front.
Now I was at the back of the stage, as if seats went all around the stage and the stage was circular, with steps down all the way around, all of that white, shiny material. I sat on one of the steps and folded my arms on the stage and my chin on my arms. There was some technical gear back her, as well as a makeshift aluminum stand for lights.
Some woman near me and to my right remarked jokingly how the speaker stuttered so awfully, as if that was a mark of his true character, and not all the stuff he lectured about. Some guy up on front stage and to my left and the lecturer's left said, "Don't talk about our respectable lecturer that way! Don't you know the power he has?"
But the lecturer turned back to the woman and said, "Don't worry about making jokes. I think it's kind of funny, too." I thought, Of course he'd say something like that. He's so kind and generous.
Now, for some reason, I felt ashamed to be this close to the stage, like I was hogging the stage. So I found a seat in the back area abut four or five rows from the stage and all the way on the right.
But one of the NYC Park Rangers, GR (who in the dream looked like a grizzled, pale, white mountain man with boiled blue eyeballs), and MS (who was also a little unshaven and crazy-looking) walked up to me and said that I was in their seats. They walked right up to me, almost against me, like they were planning to sit even while I was still sitting in the seat.
Trying to be polite, I said, "Oh, I didn't realize these seats were reserved for you. Here. Let me move. But I was so intimidated that I actually fell out of the chair (tipping the chair) and stood and walked away even as I said all this stuff.
I was now in the front row, which was all a bunch of high, backed wooden stools. I turned around and almost sat in one. Then I realized there was something in it. I stood, turned, and looked. It was a purplish piece of something like wax paper with a scrawled message like, "THIS SEAT TaKeN."
So I got up and looked for another stool in the front row, walking from right to left. I thought maybe I'd just sit up by the stage, stage left this time. But I thought again how rude that was.
Every chair in the front row had that same wax paper. and at the top of the wax paper was some iridescent, rainbow colored, piece of plastic, like a charm for girls, and maybe a pencil with colorful painting around its barrel.
