FlabbergasTed

This morning I woke up and went, "Yikes!"

Because of all people to dream about, I dreamed about Ted Cruz.

I dreamed we were friends!

I do not even like Ted Cruz. However I do not particularly like Barack Obama either and that did not stop me from dreaming I was friends with Obama, remember?

My dream about Ted Cruz was kind of like the one about Barack Obama, though, in that my dislike was swept aside and I found myself having a good time. I was comforting Ted Cruz in his defeat. I was telling him he had a promising future, hang in there.

And together we went here, and we went there. And I spoke to him about Leonard Pennario.



As we were hanging out I felt kind of uncomfortable, though, because I was afraid he would ask me, "Mary, you did vote for me in the primary, didn't you?" And I did not!

It is funny with your dreams, you find yourself hanging out with people you never would, you know? God knows what reasons your subconscious has about matching you up with these people, but perhaps there is a reason somewhere.

I think in this case the reason is clear. I can interpret this dream.

It means: Step away from the media.

I am paying too much attention to the news!

Jailbird

Last night I dreamed I was in jail. What a dream!

The goofy thing was, I did not understand what I had done to get in there. It was some kind of white-collar thing, violating some law or other, and I had not been aware I was violating it. I think this came out of a scrap of interview I heard on the radio yesterday. Someone was saying he was not aware at the time he was breaking the law. And my brain took this and chewed on it. It is funny how your brain does that.

But anyway, back to this jail. It was not unpleasant. There were about four rooms, and a courtyard with picnic tables. It bothered me a little that inside you could not open the windows, but there was some fresh air that came in and besides you could go outside.

This is another thing, outside there was, under a shelter, this unbelievable grand piano. I went over to the piano in my dream and opened the lid over the keys and was going to play something when a guard stopped me.

She gave me the usual, "We don't allow people to play this piano."

"Oh, but please," I said. "I'm good. I play ... Rachmaninoff." I do not know why I said that. I do not play Rachmaninoff. Maybe I was being Leonard Pennario.

"Play something," she said.

All of a sudden I was in trouble. I have gotten to do hardly any playing recently in my life, because I have no time, and I realized there was not something showy I could just call up, out of my head. I felt kind of hopeless but played a few notes from this Brahms piece I do. And the guard -- she was this Asian woman, a funny detail -- smiled.

"OK," she said. "You can play whenever you want."

At that point I got kind of excited. I looked around this jail ...

... and thought, this isn't half bad. It was embarrassing and I was going to have a rap sheet, which sort of upset me, but there was nothing I could do. Also my Tridentine Mass habit was going to be a problem. I was going to be stuck with some annoying English language jailhouse Mass.

But still. There were a few other prisoners but they were not obnoxious or anything. I looked at the picnic tables. I can go there and write, I thought. I can sit there all day. And I can play the piano. I can ask someone to bring in my music. It was night and the piano looked beautiful under the stars. Concertos Under the Stars!

I did have Pennario in my subconscious.

I totally understand this dream now. The thing is, my life these days has been such that I have been getting no work done, not on the piano, not on Pennario, not on anything outside of my actual job. I have had to spend a lot of time with my mom because she is getting over something. And the situation has been frustrating me. When I cannot get in work on the book, especially, it starts to hurt me physically. Because I have been getting kind of close into getting it into some kind of shape and I really do want it complete.

So my mind is exploring these other options. What is encouraging is that the dreams are calm and cheery. The other night I dreamed I was at the office and everyone kept taking my desk and putting me different places and it was impossible to get anything done. I managed to get things set up so I could work anyway. That was one option, find order among the chaos.

Another option is, ahem, jail.

You have to admit, people get things done in jail. You hear about people getting law degrees and writing books. People in jail have time. I do not.

Something in my mind went, click, what if I were in jail and it wasn't even my fault?

Hmmmmm.

A berry good sign

You know how from time to time I like to interpret my dreams? Last night I dreamed of strawberries.

There were these huge strawberries in my dream and my friend Melinda and I were picking them. We were eating some of them and others we were putting into baskets.

Melinda said: "This is going to be a wonderful year for strawberries!"

I remember I was wondering about the season. I was thinking: But strawberries come out in the spring! Well, I figured this was a fall strawberry crop.

Just now I looked up strawberries on one of those online dream dictionaries.

It says: "To dream of strawberries, is favorable to advancement and pleasure. You will attain some long wished-for object."

That might mean that I will complete my book about Leonard Pennario soon as I am hoping to.

And I like the spring/fall note. Something that you normally would have expected to enjoy earlier, you now enjoy later. Better late than never!

Oh well. I tend to think of dreams as reflecting our state of mind. I do not look to them to predict my future.

But still, all I could think was, it had to be a good sign of something, to dream about strawberries.

Arthurian myth

Last night I dreamed that Arthur Rubinstein, pictured above, was around and that I met him. He was in the Jackie Jocko crowd in my dream. That is the crowd of people who go to E.B. Green's to hear Jackie Jocko play the piano.

As I dreamed it, Arthur Rubinstein was a very nice guy as I am sure he was in real life. I mean, Leonard Pennario liked him. In my dream Rubinstein liked me, no big surprise there, and I hatched this plot to write a book about him, just a kind of quickie, to get out there and establish my reputation and make some money and make it easier to finish my book on Pennario.

My book on Rubinstein was going to be called, "Arthur Rubinstein: Up Close And Personal."

Hahahahaha! I would like to think that in real life I would come up with a better title.

Reviewing these plans in the cold light of day I was not sure what Rubinstein would have confided in me that was not revealed in his other books, "My Young Years" and "My Many Years," both of which were forthcoming to a fault.

But in my dream I was pretty sure he had stuff to tell me.

Oh well, I woke up. No Rubinstein. No quickie book.

That and, I had this big day ahead of me, including catching up with work, running errands, scoping out the soup kitchen to see what I am going to make, and taking my mom to the brand-new Tops that opened near her house. I was looking forward to seeing that Tops myself but I felt a twinge of regret, I have to say, that Rubinstein was not around to be my meal ticket.

That was a good plan and it was going to work out so well!

It is not easy, being a nerd.

You have nerd dreams!

The king and I

Last night my mom and I went to see "The King's Speech." We go and see every Colin Firth movie. I have liked Colin Firth starting with "The English Patient" when he played the boring British husband. I did not care if he was supposed to be boring. I thought he was cute.

"I like the husband!" I remember whispering to my mother in the theater.

She said: "So do I! So do I!"

The only Colin Firth movie we have intentionally skipped was that movie where he plays someone gay. My mother and I cannot stand the thought of Colin Firth being gay even if it is fiction. So we skipped that one.

Anyway, last night, there we were, at "The King's Speech." It is an excellent movie and I am going to drag Howard to see it. Because Howard, with his fine sense of style ...

... would observe and learn from the figures in the movie, which revolves around King George VI of England. Howard would appreciate their ceremony, their comportment.

But enough about Howard.

What about me?

I am very me-centric, in case you have not noticed. Watching the movie I kept drawing parallels between the relationship between King George VI and his speech therapist, the Geoffrey Rush character who is challenged to cure the king's stutter, and my relationship with Leonard Pennario. That is a long story but there are clear parallels. Well, I could find parallels between anyone's relationship with anyone and my relationship with Pennario. I am beginning to notice that.

After the movie I went home and went to bed and I dreamed I had met the King of England!

In my dream the King of England was single. I was still married, so do not get all excited. But we were friends and we went out and I was delighted to be friends with the King of England. And here is what killed me. In my dream he told me to keep quiet about knowing him. "No problem," I said. That is what we say here in Buffalo!

Then I dreamed I went to work and all I did was brag about it to all my friends in the office!

Nobody believed that I knew the King of England!

I specifically remember certain figures in the newsroom laughing at me and dismissing me. Ha, ha! I would fix them!

Then I woke up.

No King of England.

Wednesday morning.

The friends at work did have the last laugh as it turns out.

Oh well.

It's a good movie. See it.

Prince Andrew and me

I go to bed late and I get up early, and a lot of the time because of my schedule, I do not eat dinner until 10 p.m. That is why I have nutty dreams.

Last night through unforeseen circumstances I ate very late and I dreamed I was in England, being chased by Prince Andrew!

I know, it makes no sense. Married, Latin Mass-attending, Leonard Pennario-listening music critic from Buffalo, must have! Even in the dream, I puzzled over that. I have been good about doing my Zumba but still.

In the dream Howard and I were over in England, and we fell in with the prince somehow and before I knew it the prince's people were cornering me and demanding that I go somewhere with him. And they said I might have to stay overnight with him.

Howard was just kind of leaving me nonchalantly and I ran after him. "Howard," I remember saying, "make sure you have your phone with you, OK?" The phone is a weird recurring theme in my dreams. I am always trying to call people and I can't dial the number, or the call does not go through, or the person does not answer. So naturally in the dream Howard just walks away.

So there I am stuck with Prince Andrew. And even worse, I am wearing these tattered jeans! We passed a street stand with these hippie clothes, which I have always loved. I stopped, thinking, I could at least find a skirt to pull on, or something. But Prince Andrew grew impatient and his handler whispered to me I had better hurry up. Then the clothes began disappearing before my eyes! Not only was I irritating Prince Andrew but I was going to leave the stand empty-handed!

Here is one other funny thing: I was thinking, maybe I could deal somehow with this overnight business. Perhaps I could stay over and Prince Andrew and I could be, uh, just friends.

Because I thought it would be cool to stay overnight in Buckingham Palace. Or Balmoral, which also surfaced in the dream as a possibility.

It is funny, waking up from a dream like that. The dream was stressful and messy and in a way you are happy to leave the situation.

On the other hand, who wants to go to work?

Talk that talk

Thanks, Jen14221 and Story Teller, for your soothing comments on my spooky dreams the other night! Lastnight was not as bad. I dreamed I had to cook a dinner for 30 people in this soup kitchen and I had only an hour to do it, but that is not as bad as dreaming about hobgoblins. So things are looking up.

Speaking of which, today I am going over to UB to hear Robert Levin, that pianist from Harvard I wrote about a couple of weeks ago, give a lecture.

His lecture is called: "Improvisation and Embellishment in Mozart."

I wouldn't dream of missing it! It reminds me of once when I was a UB student, living in an off-campus apartment. One night, I was in my room listening to a Mozart quartet. I have been addicted to Mozart since I was a teen-ager. He is like a drug to me. If I don't give him a good listen about once a week, I go through withdrawal symptoms. I get unfocused and agitated.

Anyway, I am in my room, listening to this quartet, and one of my roommates comes in to alert me to the fact that everyone else is in the other room watching some John Belushi comedy and I should come out. "What are you listening to this for?" he said. "You don't have to listen to this."

God, that guy was funny. He cracked me up. And of course I went out and watched the Belushi movie. I think it was "Neighbors." That was in the apartment I had on LaSalle, the apartment which, until a few months ago, I forgot where it was, remember? How is that for a sentence? Well, I'm not at work.

This lecture, anyway, reminds me of that incident. I don't have to be there. But I must!

Robert Levin is the only pianist since Leonard Pennario I have had fun writing about. I went to two concerts he gave and both of them were fascinating. He gives such life to the music. You get the idea he really loves what he is doing. And on the phone Levin was one of the all-time great talkers I have encountered, so I like him for that. My mom went with me to the concert he and his wife gave on Saturday. Mom liked Levin, too. She said he looked like Howard. Which he does, sort of. And that is high praise.

I get to go back to LaSalle Avenue this weekend, about four doors down from my old apartment, to go see my friend Gary, because here it is September and we must make wine. Gary called me to tell me the juice is in at James Desiderio's and on Saturday bright and early we are going to make our selection. I say, go for the Barbera again. That stuff we made last year was pretty good.

Meanwhile, I'm looking forward to that that lecture today. "Improvisation and Embellishment in Mozart." 4 p.m., 250 Baird Hall.

Who says there's no excitement here in Buffalo?

In the land of dreams

Lastnight I had the kind of dreams that make you sit down the next morning and say, "OK. What did I eat lastnight?"

You would not believe these nightmares. Attic rooms, sighing ghosts, hobgoblins! Slime oozing out of the bathroom ceiling! On retrospect I can see that I ripped the slime off from Dickens. In "Bleak House," when Mr. Krook spontaneously combusts, they can tell in the room underneath that something terrible was happening by this slime that oozes through the ceiling.

But still. Why am I having dreams like this? Everything in my life is going so well.

Number one, it seems those pale tomatoes are getting ripe on the kitchen counter. Perhaps yesterday I kvetched too soon.

And here is something else. I may have mentioned that Mr. Idaho is valuable to my book especially because he was the only person I have found who coaxed a few piano lessons out of Leonard Pennario? Well, Mr. Idaho will always be valuable to my book. But now we have found one other person who managed to get Pennario to give him a lesson.

Would you believe, it is New York City's Cardinal Edward Egan? Oh, excuse me, Edward Cardinal Egan. I like the medieval word order better.

Cardinal Egan appeared over the weekend on a big New York classical music radio show, in which guests talk about five pieces of music that are important to them. One piece he chose was Beethoven's "Pathetique" Sonata. He chose the piece in Pennario's honor! He told that to the host, Gilbert Kaplan. Kaplan is a superb interviewer, by the way. He asked great questions.

"Leonard had a marvelous personality, an ebullient, smiling, happy, enthusiastic personality," Cardinal Egan said about Pennario.

And this is a quote I love: "Very few people I know loved to perform as that man did."

I am going to request that Edward Cardinal Egan grant me an interview for my book. I do not think he will mind. He sounds as if he loves to talk about Leonard Pennario the way I do. Well, no one loves to talk about him the way I do. But he comes close.

Cardinal Egan sounds like a brilliant man who knows a lot about music. The music he mentions is the same music I would mention, that I love. The slow movement of the Schubert B flat Piano Trio. The final trio from Strauss' opera "Der Rosenkavalier." Try to find a few minutes to listen to these links. What sheer, unbelievable beauty. That is some of the music I love the most, too!

Have I been Cardinal Egan all these years and just never knew it?

I had better watch it with the surreal thoughts. Now I am back in dream territory! One more thing about my dreams lastnight.

I was calm, even cheerful as I dealt with all those ghosts and hobgoblins. I remember that. I was looking forward to morning because I hoped they would go away, but I was smiling at them and the situation stayed under control. That is an important detail. When you remember your dreams is always important to note how you are feeling and reacting.

All I can think is that means whatever is on my mind will turn out OK.

Either that, or it was something I ate.