Rowdy’s Dream Blog #54
A Lovely Present For My Mother
I go to a dark little club to hear my brother's band. They play one song and then announce that they are through for the night. The management urges them to at least play their special song. They reluctantly agree. As they begin to play, we all turn toward a large board on the opposite wall that displays a relief picture of a colorful house. The picture is made from a special kind of plastic and begins to melt as we all watch, reforming itself into brains and eyeballs, all in perfect sync with the music. Finally, it forms itself into the shape of the northern US. I walk up to it and pinch off a little piece of Idaho just as the song is finishing. I ask my brother if I can keep it. "Sure", he says. As I leave, I see that the piece I am holding is now in the shape of a soft blue tire. The bouncer outside can not be convinced that I have permission to take it and escorts me back into the club. I decide to stay. I get the singer to show me how it all works. Apparently, there is a small booth near the stage that holds an electric gun, like a drill, mounted on a tripod and aimed at the picture. The gun is programmed to continuously reform it. As I stand near the booth, an older woman examines my piece of plastic, which has now taken the shape of sticks of spaghetti in blues, greens, yellows and reds. She remarks that I will be able to make a lovely present for my mother.