Last Thursday, I was chosen to be Richard Feynman’s personal assistant. Feynman, who was a Nobel Prize-winning theoretical physicist who lectured at the California Institute of Technology during the mid 1900s, died in 1988. So of course, I was just having a dream. But still, for my subconscious to honor me with such a position, knowing full well I didn’t understand a lick of mathematics or physics, was a dream come true. When I woke up, the whole thing seemed a bit wacky.
As Feynman’s personal assistant, I was in charge of making sure he had everything he needed (coffee, pencils, etc). I also attended every lecture he presented, including one where he kept repeating himself.
I noticed it right away. I’m sure members of the audience that had paid a pretty penny to hear him speak noticed it, too. But HE seemed not to. I tried to get his attention to see if anything was wrong, but he was ignoring me. And he kept repeating himself. Members from the audience were now starting to leave. I tried to get his attention, but he was still ignoring me. He kept repeating himself and repeating himself until everybody was gone … and I was fully awake.
I had fallen asleep with earbuds still in my ears. I had been watching a short Insta-Face video clip of Feynman sharing his thoughts on things I didn’t understand. There’s no telling how many times it cycled through, him saying the same thing over and over and over again.
At that exact moment, I transformed into Tevye the Dairyman from the musical “Fiddler on the Roof.” I turned to my wife, Golde (played in this rendition by my loving wife, Susan), and told her I had just woken up from a dream I didn’t understand. Golde then said: “Tell me what you dreamt and I’ll tell you what it meant.”
I told her my dream, and this is how she interpreted it: “The dream means you fear trying to make your own sourdough starter — which most people do at first — but with a little love and attention, you too will discover the pathway to beautiful bread made from a sourdough starter — which most people fear trying to make at first — but with a little love and attention, you too will discover the pathway to beautiful bread made from a sourdough starter — which most people fear trying to make at first — but with a little love and attention…”
Did you noticed she was repeating herself? I did, too. At least it was about bread making and not about washing my hands or taking out the trash, then washing my hands after I’ve taken out the trash, sometimes washing my hands before AND after I take out the trash. I guess I must have woken, swiped to a different Insta-Face video clip, then fallen back asleep to endless repetitions of someone saying how wonderful it is to make your own sourdough starter.
Just as she was about to repeat herself about what most people fear trying, I was rudely awakened by a dog licking my ear. It’s six o’clock? C’mon, just a few more minutes.
Later that morning, over a cup of coffee, I told my wife about my dreams and asked her what she thought? Could she be my Golde and tell me what my dreams meant?
“It means,” she said, “you need to stop watching those videos when you’re trying to go to sleep.”
“Either that,” I responded, “or I need to watch more bedtime videos and learn by osmosis on the best ways to convince you that I need to buy a boat, or a new grill. Yes?”
She shook her head, “Keep dreaming.”
No comments:
Post a Comment