I had another strange dream last night. For some reason, I was sleeping on a couch in a corner of a warehouse and awoke to a mob hit. The gangsters didn't notice me, so I hid behind the couch and covered myself with an afghan my mom knit for me ages ago, which I still use. The most interesting aspect was the clarity of the moral dilemma. I did not want to witness the killing, which would have me face the choice of doing the right thing by testifying or being a coward. I also feared being discovered and killed. Would I whimper and beg for my life or accept my fate like a man in my last act on earth? I couldn't get back to sleep. It was 2:30. Rather than toss and turn, I laid on the floor and turned on the TV, which is my cure for insomnia. One of the access channels was running Classics Arts Showcase, clips from opera, ballet, Broadway. I don't know that I fell fully asleep, but it helped. The only thing I can figure that triggered the dream is the troubling idea of fate, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like those poor folks in the theater in Colorado. For decades I never remembered any of my dreams. In the past few years those I've remembered have been so vivid. Fascinating.
I ran a balance check on my checking account this morning. Sure enough, it had increased significantly. My first social security payment is in the bank. I am now part of the entitlement problem. I know I paid into the system for many years, but I still think the government is foolish for allowing me to begin collecting at such a relatively young age. If not for my complete lack of confidence in the political class, I might have waited until I was 65. My aim is to stockpile in case of financial Armageddon. For the first time since early 2008, my savings account will no longer be shrinking and, if things get really bad, I'll have held onto my IRA funds that much longer. I don't know how long it will be before I am collecting more than I've contributed to the plan. My guess is ten years. Although given the current state of my health it seems a lock, who knows if I'll live that long? In my short story collection A Hitch in Twilight, Network 2015 addresses the problem in the way Alfred Hitchcock or Rod Serling may have. That's less than three years away. I hope it proves to be silly hysteria.
It began sprinkling as soon as I left to conduct business. I waited a while, to no avail. On days like this, I always wonder if I missed crossing paths with someone who may have purchased one of my books.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f
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