OK. Of all the occasionally recurring dreams, the one about my ’74 Vegaranks fairly low on the excitement scale. Except, that’s not how it plays out in the dream itself.
The dream is always set in present day, and it involves me remembering that my Vega is not long since scrapped, but stored in some long-forgotten garage or barn. After 10 minutes and a fresh battery, the car starts and I drive away.
Last night, it involved me breaking to the front of the line at a repair shop, where I’ve made instant respect karma with the shop-owner – who has fixed a problem with my Vega. Oh, it still has a hole in the gas tank, one bad spring, a door that does not match, a cracked windshield, and leaves a sickly sweet cloud of smoke every time I press the accelerator… but it RUNS.
Posted Sat Jul 1st, 2006