Analog dreams

I woke up today from a dream so obvious to everyone but me, but hey, I'm the dreamer. I have been getting rid of old things in my life, and the dream was about being back in the house I grew up inside. In the dream, I've found a vast collection of lp's - record albums. Everything from my entire family's collection: everything from my grandfather's Dean Martin, to Dad's Johnny Cash (ring of fire which is Johnny's sexiest album cover- HOT!), to my sister's Muppet Christmas Album, to my gay dj uncle's Sylvester, to my early Phil Collins, yes, I used to bust out to "in the air tonight."

As the dreamer walks past the wall of albums, fingering tracks, she realizes she could save money if she would digitize all these lps, so she runs to the apartment building's basement and puts an album on the turntable left behind by Frankie Knuckles when he lived here. The needle drops and the album is spinning, she has forgotten how much of a mechanical spark one could find in the analog world! The dreamer opens her ears- yes, you can do that in dreams- stretching to Volare through the static and scratches. This sucks, it's old, no one wants to hear static.

I woke up.

Cut to real life:

This week, I
a) sold my car.
b) disconnected my land line.
C) all of the above