Night Visions, September 2017
Codes: "IRL" = "in real life". "INV" = "in Night Vision", meaning untrue in real life.
"Skip" means a sudden transition from one segment to another. "The 1250" references my childhood home, a (too) frequent setting for my visions. Josie is my daughter, and most of my life has been spent with Chicken and Alex as friends. Any other people referenced, past jobs worked at or life experiences are real unless otherwise noted.
(Dates of awakening listed)
Now THAT'S "Going Small" (September 30, 2017)
We have a new A-Team show starring the cast of the 2010 film; I'm watching this program while overseeing a gopher race. One of the participants is quite lazy so I create a small hole for it to burrow through...but it's so fat it won't fit until I essentially dig an entire tunnel for it.
Next, I'm with my mom and Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow, stopping to deliver something to the mother of my buddy Luke late at night. Kruk seems to want me out of the way so he can mac on her, and despite my reluctance he refuses to leave. So mama and me head for the 1250...which is now next door in place of the strait that had been there when we arrived.
Skip to the NBA, where I'm going up against former Warrior Andrew Bogut in the paint. Bogut is a defensive beast, and he's left stunned when I still manage to spin on him and down an underhand flip. "I worked on my game all summer!" I bark at Bogut as we head back upcourt. Eventually, our opponents play so poorly that their coach subs in teenage girls from the crowd.
Lastly, I pee on the bathroom mat for no reason.
The Restroom: No Longer Just For Potty (September 27, 2017)
September 2017 wasn't a good month for quality Night Visions overall, but at least we seem to be closing on a strong note.
Vision A takes me back to the 1250, except our master bathroom is now housing a floor-to-ceiling aquarium—a heavily populated one.
Through the glass located outside the bathroom, Josie and I are watching all the fishies swim when all of the sudden, we hear the "gutter ball" sound completing a toilet flush. I rush in and sure enough, the water has all drained out and hundreds of fish carcasses greet me. My grandma enters to help me relocate a small tank of the few surviving fish...only for them to jump out and die too. Blah.
Vision B takes place at some night trade school; I leave class to go #1. In this john is my friend Marilynn's husband going #2—I handle my business and decide to stay in the bathroom doing paperwork at a desk (?) that's set up in there. While working, a smiling Marilynn herself swims under the door and says hello to me (but not her hubs). Again, people...not even I could make this stuff up.
Finally, I head back to class—except the bell rings, and I've gotta scramble to retrieve my stuff before the professor closes up. Arriving just in time, I get my stuff and give the Dana Delany-type a surprise smooch as thanks. (Though utterly confused and left muttering, she isn't upset, so I still have a chance at passing the course.)
Now it's time to go home; I pass the campus bus stop on the way to my car. The driver is walking back to the bus from wherever, and all but demands to see my driver's license—she thinks she knows me. Naturally, I refuse, and she is seriously offended. This comes into play when it turns out I did not drive to school that night and kind of needed that bus. Oh, well, time to call Mom.
As I wait for my mother to arrive, I somehow become MLB star Matt Holliday baking pies on some sitcom. Just as mine finishes, my mom shows up with an uncooked pie—we take mine, pop the raw one in, and bounce.
(Also, at some point tonight, I was on The X-Files, grabbed by some sea beast that only attacks when everyone's back is turned. Scully saves me. I haven't watched more than 30 passing seconds of that show in 20 years. No idea where that came from.)
Throwing Strikes Is No Laughing Manner (September 26, 2017)
My grandmother has tasked me with finding and removing a dead squirrel that she tossed...somewhere. I presume it ended up in the backyard but when I look, there are about two dozen squirrels...all alive...some doing weird sh--. So I make my way back to her room to report on my findings—she is asleep, and the carcass in question is partially concealed under the covers next to her.
Knowing she'd absolutely flip if she became aware, I start hammering out some scheme to get rid of it without her knowledge or any evidence of it ever being there...when a skip happens.
Next thing I know, I'm in the 1250 driveway; I'm the catcher and a drunk Jasmine Guy-type is attempting to pitch. She sucks, expectedly, but even worse than that—she continuously cracks unfunny jokes throughout. I finally get through to her that she needs to shut the f--- up and pitch, only to develop problems getting my catcher's mitt back on. As in, it's no longer built properly and I can only wear it sideways and partially off. (During all this, George Steinbrenner and his family show up to observe...he can't be scouting her, can he???)
Things end with Josie and I performing an original song that's actually pretty damn good, so good that I'm still mad at myself IRL for having NO memory of its details upon awakening.
Skillz The Charming, Gay, Straight, Pedo Rapist (September 24, 2017)
This one started out dark: an IRL friend is raped, and left damaged to the point of childlike regression. As a result, I take custody of her three (fictional) children, whose grandma—the friend's mom—seems to somehow hold me responsible for orchestrating everything. Umm...have you met me, lady? Long-term planning is not one of my strengths.
Next, I'm at the movies, where a group of teens burst into song and drown out the film. Also, I'm greatly embarrassed when referring to "boobies" on the screen—people think I'm lusting over the teen singer boobies; these two developments prompt me to ask for a refund.
A pointless scene follows: at the 1250, I walk past my grandma and her friend. With a charming smile and tone, i introduce myself. The snooty friend says nothing. Bitch.
After this, I find myself cleaning backpacks in the presence of two macho urban men having a discussion. From somewhere, the song "It's Raining Men" plays, and without thinking, I mouth a couple of words. At that point, the brothas' discussion suddenly pauses—they must have seen me. Though I badly want to keep singing, I force myself to remain stoic and pretend absolutely nothing happened...even at 37, street cred matters, people.
Things wrap with me playing ball in the grass with some kids. A very leggy young woman is nearby; smitten, I plot to somehow "accidentally" fall into her while pursuing the ball, but the stupid kids keep throwing/kicking it accurately, damn them.
Uh...How Do You Do, Ma'am? (September 20, 2017)
I'm watching some soap, and the woman onscreen is using some contraption meant to automatically dress people—the machine gets stuck around her ass as everyone panics; I'm never clear on if it's part of the act or not, but either way it's a bit harrowing...and a bit funny; after all, she's got a giant bowl clamped to her ass.
Next, Elizabeth Smart has gone missing again, but it turns out she just ran away with her black lover (apparently, people didn't approve.) It also turns out her backstory has changed and it was her granny who kidnapped her all those years ago, and Smart killed her to get away. Boy, her INV family sucks all the way around, doesn't it?
This is followed by me listing the NBA playoff picture using small slices of steak to represent each city (except the Warriors, who get a California sticker.) Of course, I have no idea what meat is shaped like what city, and wind up just improvising.
Things close with me in a high school gym shooting around with ex-NBA star Jeff Hornacek. Eventually, the student body is called to order, but I'm having none of it and decide to empty my locker and split. After accidentally entering the girls locker room first and encountering some of the largest females in creation, I make it to my locker and empty out all the...cardboard??
Guess She Didn't Want To Talk (September 19, 2017)
It's softball time! However, just before first pitch, I decide I'd rather watch instead. Despite (or because of) my absence, my would-be team falls behind 35-0 in the first inning—only for our opponents to cough up 22 runs right back. At one point someone lofts a foul toward me; I stick my bare hands out for the catch but miss it entirely....and for some reason the runners are allowed to advance. At that point, I decide to stray away from the action.
I wind up behind the LF wall, which really is a wall since the game is now inside an auditorium. There, I discover a train track that runs squarely through a door inside the building where the game is taking place. and rather than try to warn anyone inside that a train could barrel into them at any moment...I decide to balance-walk across one of the elevated rails.
Eventually the game ends with no bloodshed, thankfully, and I attempt to catch up with my friend Jenn—who's walking fast and will not slow down. I follow her around one corner of the large building, but when I round the second corner, she has simply disappeared. i am saddened.
Uh...How Do You Do, Ma'am? (September 13, 2017)
This was a strange one, even by my lofty standards.
Things begin with me at the 1250 with my grandma, lamenting the news of another baseball strike—on a day I planned to see the Giants in person, no less. In disbelief, I head to AT&T Park anyway...and of course, nobody's there.
Stopping to use a public restroom, I have an incredibly difficult time pulling my boxers back up straight as knocking on the door begins. Fed up with the shorts and the knocking, I ultimately open the door with my stuff partially exposed...and it turns out to be a mom and young daughter instead of the dude I expected. I. Run. Fast.
Walking up the road, my problem boxers have somehow become a problem dress—there I am walking the streets of San Francisco with an upside-down dress on. However, an adult mom/daughter combo walk with me; they're real nice and I am deeply, irrationally saddened when we reach the point of separation—I'm near tears as one bikes away and the other vanishes.
Next thing I know, I'm in the city of Benicia, 35 miles and two bridges away from San Francisco IRL but within walking distance for me here. (And I'm again dressed normally.) Reba McIntyre has become my new walking buddy as we approach a Raley's grocery store; she enters, but I have to physically remove an employee guarding the door to gain entry myself. By this time, I've lost Reba in the store and shout out for her..."Mary? Mary?"
"Mary" turns out to be Marla Gibbs (who of course played Mary on 227 30 years ago.) She's seated in a back office with 227 co-star Jackee Harry, who promptly looks to rest her massive lower limbs on my lap the moment I sit down.
Hustled For My H2O (September 12, 2017)
I am eagerly anticipating a Carney Lansford (former A's infielder) documentary due to air in a few hours, but I need to leave first. Passing by a dilapidated high school on foot, I quickly become obsessed with getting those kids a football field...even though there seems not to be any space for one. I canvas the entire area trying to figure out where to fit one...but strike out. Dejected, I begin to leave the school's area when, on a whim, I look over my shoulder and spot the perfect amount of open space for a field—right there on the campus, almost as if someone was already thinking what I was thinking! My "mission" is complete.
Proceeding down the street, I notice two unsupervised small children and a dog crossing a busy intersection when it was not really their turn to do so. They're too far away for me to do anything, so I continue in the other direction—next thing I know, the trio has turned around and caught up to me (am I that slow?) I give the two kids water bottles and instruct them to share with the pooch; none of them know where they live or their phone number. Just as I decide to call 911 for help, the three have shot up a nearby road just as quickly as they'd shot up to me. WTF.
All the delays have caused me to miss the Lansford show, but I do get to see a televised barrage of warning track fly balls from Barry Bonds and David Ortiz.
"I Don't Need A Bomb. I'LL Explode!!" (September 11, 2017)
For the 50th time, people...IDK where the hell this stuff comes from.
It's an episode of All My Children, only it really isn't—whatever show this is stars me as a doctor, and I'm called to the upper floors of my hospital. An elderly woman is a bedridden, diseased-up patient who doesn't seem to have much shot at improvement. Her husband is upset at what he believes is inferior treatment, and decides to take the entire floor hostage—no one can leave or arrive until whatever's wrong with his wife is DEALT WITH.
He's holding everyone hostage with absolutely nothing, which I—and no one else, apparently—soon figure out. No bomb, no weapon, just the threat of him being even more pissed off than he already is.
Still, I feel for the guy and perform more tests on his wife. I try to trick him into leaving the floor to allow cops to storm in, but he won't go. What he does do is disappear into the canteen to fetch water for his wife; during that time, she pulls me close and BEGS me to get her out of there—her husband is nuts, she's satisfied with her treatment, she's not down with anything he's doing.
So I try to do just that, but when I lift her up...she bleeds from down there, and we must abort. (No pun intended. Shut up.) Around the same time that the husband returns, their adult son gains access to the floor...and so do the cops, who take Dad away at long last. With his dad facing jail and his mom in very poor health, the son loses it, and pulls a gun outside the hospital. The cops quickly take him down, even though my unsought, unnecessary flying tackle attempt doesn't land.
His son, about 12 or so, enters the hospital and encounters his cuffed granddad (why he's STILL in the building is anybody's guess). The camera lingers on this long, hateful look from the kid, who slams down a frisbee in disgust with his granddad. (Presumably a gift from said granddad.)
Closing the show, I'm now a policeman instead of a doctor, explaining the list of charges against Gramps to someone from the hospital. A chirpy reporter overhears all of this...but still asks the very question I was answering for the hospital guy. I reply "No comment". The episode ends with her walking past the discarded frisbee, which the camera dramatically zooms in on as we fade to black. NBC, ABC, CBS—I'll be watching and suing if you use any of that on your programming. (TNT and other cable channels...go for it; I don't have time to police you.)
Leave 'Em. What If An Underage Driver Stops By? (September 8, 2017)
Things begin with me working at a radio station as a talk show co-host. Our show ends, everything is fine until the boss catches me trying to sneak some ABC blocks out of the studio. I'm forced to put them back and as I do so, I realize a former IRL friend (who I removed from my life because I have no respect for him) now owns the show—AND a McDonald's franchise up the way. Though I do not quit on the spot, I internally refuse to work for this loser again.
Naturally, I then hit up the McDonald's he now owns, on San Tomas Expressway in San Jose, curious about his ownership. Approaching the building, a small, middle-aged stranger approaches from the other direction. For some reason I offer her a friendly hug. For obvious reasons she politely refuses. We both enter and sure enough, there's the idiot, sweeping the floor. I exit before he spots me and refuse to ever eat there again.
Driving away on San Tomas, I encounter a two-car accident and overhear one driver arguing with the CHP—he's upset over being hassled when the other driver was drunk. Nevermind that he's only being hassled because he's FOURTEEN...it's the po's with the problem.
You Mad, Bro? Tweet About It! (September 7, 2017)
It's an episode of Newsradio; actor John Reilly—the older one who played Kelly's dad on 90210, not the one from Step Brothers—is stirring up jealousy in Matthew, who decides to put a spell on him. But he accidentally turns Reilly and the rest of the cast into caged birds. Matthew opens the cage to let the winged versions of Reilly, Dave and Lisa out to apologize, then goes to release the others—but they've already flown from their darkened cage into...my childhood home, the 1250, off in the distance. Where the f--- do I come up with this stuff?
Next thing I know, I'm at some outdoor plaza, approaching an employee from my daughter's school. I smooch her and we prepare for cuddles...except when we both hit the bed she's now my uncle William. Needless to say, plans immediately changed.
Exiting whatever bedroom I was in, I end up at my mom's place where some dude is waiting for her. He goes on and on about Wilt Chamberlain with the Warriors and Wilt with the Lakers as if they were two different people, won't listen to facts and won't leave without seeing my mom. Left with no choice, I finally pretend to be her myself, and show him the door at last.
Woman, Wine And Watson (September 6, 2017)
(I know that title is lame. You want me to spend 15 minutes thinking up a better one, or get to the vision?)
Tonight, I'm back in high school, specifically in the parking lot. A former IRL classmate, Leann, stands against her car near mine. In real life, this girl would have never so much as looked in my direction if I was on the ground seizing, but INV Leann is much more down-to-earth; we chat and wind up smooching. Needless to say, I'm smitten (by the way, she was gorgeous then and I can only assume/hope still is.)
I go in to class, but all I find are racks upon racks of clothes for sale. Back to the parking lot I go hoping for my new friend to still be there...but she isn't, and so I disappointedly depart, knowing I'll never see her again. Out of the sky, a former IRL taxi customer of mine, Vergel, materializes in my car. Just like old times, I take him to his medical appointment—and rather than pay for his ride, he shoves a bottle of wine in my arm and splits. Salud!
Things end with the Giants acquiring Angels outfielder C.J. Cron and Dodgers reliever Tony Watson for the "stretch drive". You know, the one that the Giants have been eliminated from for weeks now.