simplism

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID-DREAM
I’m walking with the family in Californication, up a ramp from an underground carpark that resembles the one at the local Medical Centre, leading up to the ground floor. Hank Moody isn’t very talkative, tired and disillusioned, as if he’s just gotten out of prison, his estranged wife and daughter talking to him cheerfully, exchanging details of stories about things they’ve done recently or about friends of his and little ideas for things to look forward to, looking back at him constantly as they walk with him, slow and pensive.

We come out by the road at the top of a hill overlooking a city, dark with a brilliant violet sunset far away, hanging large over the horizon, speckled with fluro orange like a beautifully exotic iris. Suddenly, a row of lights from what seems like a small, synchronised group of fighter jets passes silently overhead from behind. I say to Ken, wouldn’t it be cool if the planes bomb the city and the show (Californication) turns into a story of them surviving in post-apocalyptic world.

Soon I realise that what we’re looking at is a large space shuttle doing the kinds of aerial acrobatics you might see a jet-fighter perform at an air show for an extended amount of time. Finally it slows and lands gracefully, more like a helicopter, on the road next to us. A woman, the pilot, steps out, as if from a semi-trailer cabin, and Hank’s estranged wife walks up to great her half-way. Apparently, she has organised this for Hank, and says to him and the children (there’s a teenaged son in addition to the daughter from the show), as they make their way in the opposite direction, down a gentle grassy slope towards a park, "have fun and not to forget to bring it back by 3". This is when I notice another woman reluctantly but graciously decide not to follow them, looking towards the wife knowingly and putting her coat down on the grass to sit on.