Here’s the transcript of a dream I had exactly one year ago. It started with Patrick before morphing into a travel dream. It’s presented here for your amusement.
I had given Dr. Demento many of Patrick’s old, old documents, or perhaps he had given them to Dr. Demento because there were some musical references. I asked the good doctor if I could come by and pick out a few of those things and reclaim them. I was told that I could take all of that stuff because there was just too much and there was very little musical content of interest to him.
I opened up stuff and found things like police reports with photos and diagrams of accidents and all kinds of other photos and notes and things that were just overwhelming in their content.
Later I was driving across a bridge near an airport and noticed a 747 attempting to take off, flying very, very low. Although it was a 747 in my dream it was decorated in Southwest Airlines livery [which only flies 737s].
The plane dropped into the river but instead of floating, it quickly went down to the bottom with the nose sticking up towards the surface. Then it slowly started to come up like a fishing bob but not very quickly. I thought about how horrible it must be to be inside the aircraft–which did not break up by the way–to be in the aircraft in a pressurized cabin beneath the ocean and not being able to escape.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.