And how about this one

 I was part of a secret military biological warfare unit that was being assembled. Someone was explaining that the operation was being kept secret from the President because he was opposed to biowarfare (reflecting the History Channel show I watched on Sunday about Nazi biowarfare experiments being kept from Hitler for that reason). I was on a bus with two other members of the unit when Spencer Campbell got on and sat down in front of me. "It's great to see you, Spencer!" I said. "Good to see you, too," he replied. A black female member sitting across from him knew him from a previous assignment. "Let me look at your eyes," she said to Spencer. "Good, I don't see someone being all into you like last time" or words to that effect. They mentioned a female Command Sergeant Major serving under the General in charge. "She's a terrible person," Spencer said. "She's a pretty good soldier," the black woman commented.

I went back to sleep and had further dreams related to this one. There was discussion or thoughts about staging a biological incident with anthrax (?) in a rural location, perhaps as a rogue incident by our small unit, and whether we would be discovered as the perpetrators. 

Later, I was in a big cafeteria. Spencer or someone I knew came in and wanted me to sit at a table with him. However, I saw Mary Lou with a group of people at the other side. They were talking loudly and I went to join them. Lauren Scott as a little girl was running ahead of the crowd toward the door and out. "We're not using indoor voices," I said in a joking tone. 

Dreams this AM

1. Visiting MBS at a house in Atlanta. She has a younger sister who comes into the room and makes a serious announcement about her plans. Perhaps she wants to get a new start somewhere else.

2. Waiting for B at a Waffle House next door. While talking to some strangers I absent-mindedly cut a big section of my long blonde hair with a razor blade so part of it is very short! When I realize what I've done I'm very distressed. I've ruined my hair that took so long to grow.

3. With Scott Thurman and his business associate who was rushing down halls through a business office for unknown reasons. Old human bones had been found when the big house they used as an office was being renovated.

4. Scott had bought some kind of investment instrument for $6,000 and sold it the next day for $18,000.

The opportunity of a lifetime?

We're All in it Together Department.  The global pandemic is a crisis belonging to every person and every country: If it isn't contained everywhere, it will continue to be a plague on all of us. Has there ever been another crisis that cuts across every superficial difference, every imagined boundary we create to reveal our underlying commonality, another instance of an active threat affecting everybody on earth where common interest necessitates a shared international goal calling for cooperation among all countries, all leaders, every individual, a clearer opportunity for everyone to step up and work together? I wonder... 💜💙🕊❤💚

I like to say I'm hiding in plain sight

 (Line from my song If you don't want what I've got)

Watching Murder among the Mormons got me thinking about the secret lives we lead. In the case of Mark Hoffman, the secret life was about an elaborate scheme to make and sell forged documents, game the Mormon Church, and lead a fast and expensive life while appearing to be a dedicated document researcher, trader and family man. It was a sociopathic adventure that led him to murder two innocent people and to spend the last part of his life in prison. He did a remarkable job of it, forging documents such as the "white salamander letter" that fooled many experts and shook up the Mormon Church by contradicting established doctrine for quite some time until he extended himself too far and wasn't able to pull of a final hoax to provide a trove of (nonexistent) documents to the Mormon Church in order to cover large debts he ran up with investors and business associates. Even so, it took two dedicated world-class forensic document analysts to discover the flaw in his techniques that proved his key documents were forged.

We all learn to keep aspects of our thoughts and actions secret in order to avoid negative consequences. For many people, this is largely unconscious- they develop habits early on to avoid humiliation and shame and afterwards don't reflect on how and why they've learned them. Many other people intentionally hide behavior that would get them into trouble with the law or important people in their lives. This is a common, limited form of having a secret life. More extensive secrets, such as maintaining multiple marriages and families in different locations, when revealed make fascinating stories for the general public.  In my case, like Hoffman's, it started quite young; but, my skill at keeping parts of my life secret wasn't done with the idea of getting the best of innocent or not so innocent people. My motivation has been to do what makes sense to me to maximize my life experience with the explicit limiting factors of not causing distress or harm to other people and not "getting in trouble" with them. In that last, of course, I haven't been entirely successful but my ability to "get away with" sneaky behavior has worked a large percentage of the time. Admittedly there's a passive-aggressive element here, but the fundamental motivation was to keep my parents from knowing I was doing things I felt warranted to do but that went against their proprieties, actions that caused me to feel guilt, even if they never found out. Deep down, my religious training has power over me. I don't think what I'm doing is wrong but I fear a punishing God may disagree. Strangely enough, all of this still works to govern my actions as if my parents are still alive and God is frowning down upon me; and, it will do so, I'm sure, until I draw my last breath. I just try to negotiate these complexities intelligently and, I hope, wisely as I move down the path.

Prorities

I woke up around 4am and started thinking about possessions of value and or historic significance that have come down to me through my parents. These include family portraits, Algernon S. Garnett's commission in the CSA Navy, Alice Scott Garnett's Civil War Diary, the silver goblet set belonging to William Owen Nixon, the massive desk made for WON Scott I, his diaries, small antique personal objects, other paintings and art works, my stamp and related holdings, and myriad photographs, letters and what have you. I feel a responsibility to organize these things and to develop a plan for their disposition after my death. My other priority is my musical work in the form of original songs. I want to create a library of good demos and videos with documentation in writing. Then, there's my literary work that needs to be organized and documented. That's enough to keep me busy for awhile if I can get myself to do all of it!

Thoughts

I woke up around 4:40am and my brain quickly became activated. One line of thought I ruminated on (and not for the  first time) is the fate of my genetic material. I did my part to give a chance to the genes passed down to me over the history of our species by my ancestors; but, of my three brilliant daughters only one,  Maureen, jas produced a single child, Mary Clayton Steven's. Moreover, Maureen is the youngest of the sux grandchildren of my parents and none of the other five has produced offspring! That is a near failure of my family line to contribute to the genetic future of humanity. But a near failure isn't failure. 

I should write a piece "From Homo sapiens to our successor species." We called ourselves "Homo sapiens," the race of wise men. That was an aspirational moniker as the wisdom of our species was questionable at best. If we were truly wise would we not have endured indefinitely? Instead, we thrived for a period and then, like so many other animals, became extinct. 

We write in the hope we didn't take all the rest of terrestrial life with us when we exited the global stage. For sure. we had an immense capacity for destroying as well as creating. Yet, in the unlikely event we managed to generate a global catastrophe of sufficient magnitude to wipe the slate clean of all plants, animals and viruses (which we may or may not have considered a form of life), we cannot doubt that advanced life forms from other planets exist who may eventually receive this message.

Fully vaccinated

Cody and I drove up to McComb, MS for our second Moderna shot on Friday. Everything went smoothly and we had an interesting conversation that covered much ground. After the first shot my arm hurt for two days. On Saturday after this one, I felt tired and achy all day. I had committed to play an acoustical set at a Henry Turner, Jr. livestream event but I wasn't well or prepared enough to do it. This would have been my first live performance since the livestreams I broadcast last summer.

I'm better today, still tired but only a slight abdominal ache. I should be back to normal tomorrow and ready to perform at the next opportunity from Henry.

I will mention here that either Saturday or Sunday I dreamt that a group of heavily armed white men were stalking a group of people I was with at some kind of camp. I remember looking at one through the window of a bus as he pointed an assault rifle at us. 

Mary Lou's ordeal (end of the story)

 In the hearing, as I expected, all three complaints were dismissed and the Board found no cause for disciplinary actions. The only thing Mary Lou did wrong was one instance of failing to get formal informed consent in a situation where that was a trivial issue. Afterwards, Mary Lou was very grateful that the Board treated her "kindly." I didn't attend which was for the best. My take is diametrically opposite- the Board did her no favors by coming to the obvious proper conclusion; and, the fact that they sent her three egregiously bad draft reports on the complaints causing her great distress didn't come up. I would love to write a letter to them expressing my displeasure and demanding an explanation but I won't because Mary Lou is still practicing and she wouldn't appreciate me dragging the episode out further. 

Cars of my dreams

 I've skipped posting for a few days while having it in mind to discuss my recurring dreams about my car. I've recently had a series with the related theme of problems involving my Porsche Macan. 

I posted earlier about driving it off a precipice while heading toward an ominous Donald Trump building. In another dream,  Mary Lou and I found we had taken a wrong turn in a rural area and ended up on a dirt road. We turned back and drove through a wealthy subdivision where I noticed a new house with 20th century modernistic architecture. Further down, we saw some cattle grazing in a field to the left and then some massive antelopes with huge curled horns. Two young men on horses rode up and one of them fired several rifle shots straight up into the air. This did not seem directed at us but it was disconcerting. It wasn't clear why he was firing the rifle except perhaps it was a warning to someone.

In another one, I was visiting Athens High School (now Clarke Central in real life) as a former student. I was just walking around, apparently having shown up unannounced. I recall seeing two girls wearing huge hair bows walking down the hall toward me. This could have been a scene from my senior year in 1969-70. People didn't seem to notice me but I felt somewhat uncomfortable and decided to leave. It seems I had dropped my keys on the ground outside before entering the building. I saw them and picked them up, only to discover the Porsche key was missing from the key ring. Someone had used it to drive off in my car!

In another dream, I got in my car to leave someone's house that was midway up a hill. The car started but would only move in reverse, not in forward drive. I don't remember much else except in what may have been the same dream, I got to the top of a hill and parked my car outside a little park where Laura M was with some other women staffing a charity sale of some kind. Laura looked sharp in a white dress with a black floral pattern.

In a subsequent dream, I was at a little gas station store in a small southern town perhaps in Georgia. I was putting quarter in a soda machine to get cans of Mountain Dew which I intended to take home and use for mixed drinks. Another guy was with me watching as I got the machine to work. When I went outside, my car was missing. I had left the keys in it and someone stole it. Another car was available from a repair shop next door but it too disappeared. I suspected a white redneck-looking guy who had been standing outside the gas station. Two local women began to tell me what had happened. The first one, who was in her late 20s, admitted that the man at the door did it. I wanted her to report this to the sheriff but she was clearly afraid of retaliation. It seems there was a gang of young white men behind the theft. A second woman, older with dark hair, said that this individual had hidden my car at his grandmother's house. The their approached me and offered to ransom my car back for $2000. I agreed but he then raised it to $3000. Indignantly, I told him $2200 was as high as I would go. I began to think I should contact the sheriff's office to recover the car. 

So, what's with all these car dreams? They seem to reflect anxiety, fear, confusion and vulnerability. My intuitive sense is they have to do with the long period of uncertainty I've experienced since retiring from practice in July 2019. One thought is I seem to be looking backwards at my past and not moving forward. I have a remarkable degree of freedom and wealth but I'm hindered by apprehension about the effects of aging. I have personally meaningful tasks to pursue but I struggle with a kind of fatalism and questions of whether it matters what I do, It certainly matters to me and I'd like to build some momentum on music and putting my family archives in order. I will say I've gotten some things accomplished, notably getting out 2020 income tax data assembled and making appointments for maintainance on my Porsche, my retina and seeing Harold Brandt (who is retiring this summer). I will need to decide on a new primary care physician but I'm not too concerned about finding one. Incidentally, my Porsche will be paid off this Fall after four years that have gone by quickly. Carpe diem.

The end of Mary Lou's ordeal

The psychology licensing board has been investigating 3 complaints against Mary Lou by disgruntled and dysfunctional families involved in ugly custody disputes. The board investigation was done in a manner that was both threatening and unprofessionally sloppy and has dragged on for a year and a 1/2. Finally today there is an informal hearing which Mary Lou will attend at 1 o'clock with her attorney.  I expect Mary Lou to be exonerated except for one small technical error she made but this process has triggered all of her anxiety, shame issues and fear of punishment.  The process has caused her extreme distress that was quite unnecessary given the minor nature of her actual one breach of practice standards (failure to get formal informed consent in a situation where consent wasn't an issue and no harm ensued). But following a long period of hearing nothing after she had responded comprehensively to each complaint, the investigators gave her 3 drafts of their reports which were full of factual errors and wrong interpretations of the facts. The board should be shamed and humiliated when the facts come to light in today's hearing and afterwards. One bright note is all 3 of our daughters called Mary Lou to offer support last night including Lauren who is extremely difficult to reach. Jenny called Lauren to prompt her to call Mary Lou which Lauren to her credit did.

Living in a dream world

I've had a whole series of interesting dreams featuring such characters as Queen Elizabeth II Kate Pierson, Ricky Wilson and Ginger Adams. The scenes included sitting on a dais with the Queen who was the featured speaker,  visiting Kate's family home and associating with some unlikely outlaws who got a visit from some kind of lawn enforcement authorities connected  with the Psychology licensing board. The agent in charge without warning stuck a needle in my back to take a blood sample.  I was thinking the blood test would show I'd smoked marijuana recently (which in real life I haven't done in maybe 40 years). At the end of that dream I drove my car down a road leading to a huge building it turned out to be A Donald Trump facility. The road ended abruptly and our car flew off and plunged down toward whatever was below. We seemed to land unscathed but the existence of the facility, as one would expect, was very alarming.

Transition themes (dream)

I'm sitting on the ground below a garage door that opened onto the driveway of the house next door to my parents' home on Milledge Terrace. In reality there wasn't a garage door- this would have been outside the bedroom Anne had after my parents had the basement finished and that I moved into after Anne left home. Two little boys about 4 y/o are playing in the driveway oblivious to me. I notice some patches of small wildflowers and think I'll take photos to post on Instagram. Two adult men, fathers of the boys appear. I don't know any of these people. I get up to leave and notice I'm wearing a shirt with a towel wrapped around my waist as if I stopped in the middle of getting dressed after a shower. I start to ask one of the men to activate the button closing the garage door but then decide to do it myself. It seems to me they might be suspicious of my intentions toward the boys although I had no interest in them. They just happened to be in the driveway.

The next scene finds me climbing a ladder to get to the attic level of our house where my mother and Scottie (?) are busy with something. Getting off the ladder is a bit precarious but being careful I manage it. Another ladder (the actual attic ladder in reality) goes down to the first floor. I go down it and now am wearing multiple layers of dress clothing. Other people are milling around including two men in business dress. Perhaps the house is being readied for being sold. I want to change into casual clothing but I'm having difficulty unbuttoning the right sleeve of my shirt. I enlist help unbuttoning the sleeve and pulling it off my arm.

Thoughts about the dream. It has a theme of transitions- 1) looking out on a place that contains many early childhood and later memories associated with  playing and surreptitious activities starting with pooping on the ground when I was the age of the little boys through crawling out the window as a teenager to go on misadventures and sneaking girls into my room. 2) Being in the middle of getting dressed 3) Parents' house being sold 4) Changing into casual clothes. All of this brings up taking stock of my life as I still struggle to transition into retirement after a year and a half.