One night this week I dreamt that I was shopping naked in the local grocery store. When The Princess and I first moved to NC, I heard people often refer to the Harris Teeter, like it was some kind of endangered and elusive little warbler in the woods, you know the red crested, spotted Eastern Harris Teeter. Come to find out, it’s a grocery store. In my dream I was shopping in our local Harris Teeter (the Carrboro one, in case you go looking for me) and I was stark naked. It seemed even crazier, because no one except yours truly seemed to notice. There were other aspects of this little dream episode that I’ll skip in the interest of modesty, but suffice to say, the whole thing was bizarre.
The next morning I mentioned the dream to Her Majesty, and dryly she asked that I wake her next time this occurs so that she can see (and die laughing) for herself. But I was curious about the meaning of a naked dream, so naturally went straight to my most trusted source, the internet, specifically DreamMoods.com. Turns out that naked dreams are among the most common dreams we experience. Hmmm, I’d like to have comments from any of you who have had naked dreams (details would be welcome), come on, fess-up.
Naked dreams it turns out say all kinds of stuff about the people who have them. A few specifics:
* feelings of shamefulness, ahm…yes.
* being unprepared for something or caught off guard…yes.
* may be hiding something…for sure.
* fear of ridicule…absolutely.
But then the website says that if in the dream, no one seems to notice the nakedness (as in my case) it doesn’t mean that the dreamer is unattractive (well sure), it means the dreamer is probably magnifying a situation and these fears are unfounded. Whew! I guess I’m in the clear, forget those answers I gave.
Alright, enough about dreams, we need to move on to nightmares! That’s right, I’m talkin about The Pony. You may recall that in my last post I had done a Plastigage test, but with the GREEN Plastigage. Well, the idiotic brother, like any good doctor confronted with a tough diagnosis went the natural next step and requested more testing. I’m guessing he owns stock in the Plastigage Company, because he said that before he and some other unidentified, crackpot advisor could provide guidance they needed the results of tests with RED plastigage. I have to admit this actually makes sense, since my clearances were outside the range measurable by the green Plastigage. Another variable removed in the second testing was the torque with which the bolts were tightened. Different amounts of torque could provide different squish marks of the Plastigage. So at Jim’s suggestion, for the second test which I completed today, I used a torque wrench and tightened each bolt at the 20 foot-pounds setting. The Tractor Forum let me down on this one, as no one could come up with the exact torque specs. But for testing purposes, the amount of torque isn’t as important as that the same amount is used at each stage of testing.
It doesn’t surprise me at all that Jim can talk with experience about foot pounds. Over the years, he’s stuck his foot in the wrong places so many times and with such disastrous consequences its amazing he can still walk. The first instance I can remember was when we were pretty small kids. Jim had a tent with a picture of the Lone Ranger on the side. We were allowed camp out in the tent in the vacant lot next door. I guess to add more authenticity to the experience, one morning Jim decided to cook bacon and eggs over an open fire in front of the tent. He never had a chance to do the eggs, when all the hot grease from the bacon spilled from the fry pan onto his foot. Oh boy!
I know I’m getting horribly side-tracked here, but flash forward just a couple of years. We had a wooded area very near our house that grew in an area that was always wet, most of the time with several feet of water. We had great times exploring in “the swamp,” and even played hockey on it in the winter. But it was one summer day that I was home and Jim was out in the swamp I heard a terrible ruckus coming from the general vicinity of the swamp. The next thing I saw was Jim running toward the house as if bees were chasing him, BECAUSE THEY WERE! He was running, screaming and coming at me fast with the swarm still on him. At the front door mom and dad were trying to get the bees off of him, and finally let him inside. You cannot imagine a more pathetic sight than him lying on his bed in just his underwear, whimpering with an uncountable number of red welts from head to toe. Oh forgot, what he’d done is stuck his foot in a tree stump with a yellow jacket nest inside.
Alright now, going for the “foot trifecta” I’ll try to make this short. He came home on leave from the Navy and on a lark he and I decided to ride brother Phil’s motor bike around the open fields near our parent’s home in St. Paul. I was driving and he was hanging on the back. We hit a sandy spot, the bike bogged to the side, his foot came off the foot rest and right between the chain and the spokes. It was jammed in there so hard, I had to go up to the house to get tools to remove the back wheel. We had been laughing so hard as we roared through the field and the accident happened so suddenly, that we were both still laughing as he gradually started to realized the seriousness of the situation. We sent him back to the Navy with as I recall 17 stitches in his foot, which was all colors of the rainbow. I tell you, older brothers can be a real pain in the ass, but at least in Jim’s case, he sure was entertaining.
Shoot, I generally like to keep these little posts, well little, no more than 1000 words, and I see I’m already over that. I’ve got test results, photos and more tractor stuff to relate, but I’m going to save that for the next post. I’ll just leave you with one photo. Remember in the last post I said that Gene and I would be pulling the transmission apart “weather permitting.” Well, as I typed up today’s post I took this shot out the window. Check back tomorrow for the real tractor news. Thanks for reading.