Thursday, May 26, 2011
please do not interpret
I had a strange dream last night. Perhaps it was caused by the fact that I've more on my plate right now than a small legion of superannuated scholars could accomplish in a decade, let alone the single month this lone superannuated scholar possesses to finish three essays and an abecedarium, draft a keynote lecture and compose the abstract of a second, and send a special issue of a journal off to press. Or perhaps it was the Dark and Stormies I drank with Steve Mentz last night during our wide ranging conversation about ecocriticism, family, job satisfaction, grad students we know, colleagues, beloved cities, life during a PhD program, recovery from that life, and many other things.
Anyway, last night I dreamt that I was in a theater seating 250 children and adults. For reasons I never questioned, I was in charge of mounting a puppet show featuring Kermit the Frog. I knew that I was supposed to keep the little sticks that move him invisible; not let anyone see that my hand was in his, um, well you know; and ensure that the audience was entertained. I quickly realized that the only trick in my arsenal was to run with Kermit along a low wall, making his feet go up and down as if he were riding a bicycle. That was all I could do, and after the third repetition the cheers of the crowd turned to restless annoyance. Yet I gave the amphibian-on-an-invisble-bike routine two more tries. As the boos erupted I woke up. I cursed Jim Henson, my stupid brain for generating such a stupid dream, and frogs in general, then tried to get back to sleep.