Night of April 27, 1984. Friday. There were two times in my life where I had an extremely vivid and fully in-body dream of a “melted” bicycle in a more notable way, and each time I had had a small amount of alcohol in real life prior to my dream (although I normally have not drank at all throughout my life). Thus, when I think of beer or alcohol in general, I automatically think of useless, melted bicycles, which seems to imply you “lose control” or are “unable to steer”. I go down the front stairs from my apartment in the King Street boarding house and onto the porch. It seems fairly late at night or very early in the morning before dawn. Soon, another person who is very drunk (Shawn P) comes out and says what a nice bicycle I have and continues to say positive things about it in a sincere but inebriated way. The bicycle is leaning against the front of the porch on the right side of the doorway. Upon taking a closer look as I am taking it out from the porch to ride it, I then see that the entire front half is partly melted and crooked and thus unusable. See also: The Beam (warning against alcohol?)
Morning of July 15, 1977. Friday. This dream was on the morning after drinking a small amount of beer from my brother-in-law Mel who was visiting from Wisconsin. It was titled “The Beam” in my original dream journal as well. I am walking out to the highway (Highway Seventeen - the original route before the name was changed to NE Cubitis Avenue) with my father very late at night (or very early in the morning before dawn). I notice a partly melted bicycle just off the highway (about half on the wayside) that a very thin beam (like a laser beam) was shining onto, going into the handlebars. I also notice that a small part of the highway itself is like liquid as it is beginning to melt, sizzle, and bubble. I am aware that this beam is eventually going to melt everything in its path and is potentially very dangerous for some of the world and will likely continue to be problematic for a long time. There is no real sense of danger regarding my own safety though, or that of our home, at least for the time being. Its path at this point seems to be mostly down the highway to the north. I am not certain of its origin and not exactly sure if the bicycle is implied to be mine or my father’s. The meaning of this dream is basically the same as thousands of others I have documented, studied, and decoded and is anticipatory autosymbolism for waking into the light of day, more specifically via the emergent consciousness, seeking out the dream self for coalescence and to “save” the experience and perspective of the dream state. The same template and components, with the same meaning, are easily seen and recognized in dreams like “The Tadpole’s Ghost”, “Laser-Eyed Alligator”, and many others, though are more passive in dreams like “The Day There Was No Sun” where the role and active threads of the dream self and conscious self are slightly different, which probably depends on circadian rhythms and the time (and the date) of the dream. Curiously, the highway begins to take on properties of another typical dream conduit, the river, though I have no perception of bilocation in this dream. The highway in this case seems to be “melting”. It is almost as if the “light of day” beam of the emergent consciousness is changing the dream setting for a “smoother” flow into the waking state by transforming it into the river conduit but this potential does not complete. The melted bicycle has been validated as a symbol for alcohol intake. As little alcohol as I have had in my life (even at my present age) it always triggered the appearance of a bicycle in a dream, almost always partly melted as here. This can be understood to mean that alcohol alters both balance and direction of thoughts and also alters the linear and more stable nature of decision-making.
Updated 11-19-2019 at 11:02 AM by 1390
Morning of February 14, 1976. Saturday. In the first part of 1973 (February), which repeated with more detail in 1974 and 1976 (the Bicentennial year, which some of the final version of my dream seems to partially reflect), I had a fairly long dream (that varied in semi-lucidity and in-dream awareness from time to time) in which the main subject was a localized Nazi Germany (Hitler is mostly only seen in shadow looking out a somewhat modern-looking window as if from an apartment building - apparently he also “dubs” - makes dub music, or produces it) that was limited to the range of the cow pasture to the east of our home in Cubitis, Florida. To the south from there was a localized Afghanistan, to which Hitler goes to with a large cavalcade of jeeps with various colorful flags - not sure if it is a conquest - but the feel is not so “warlike” - at least with a personal perception - and Osbourne “King Tubby” Ruddock is riding with Hitler, decorated with all sorts of awards for valor or some such. To have “little countries” in the region did not seem odd. It also seems like some sort of alliance, but there are rows and rows of weird flags from hundreds of other countries along the length of train tracks, both real and fictional (including a United Nations flag). My dream featured my father at the end (C. Clarence “Rider” as in one version of the song, C. C. Rider, See See Rider, etc. - although he was actually known for very long bicycle trips, not motorcycles). We had the same name. In my dream, for some reason, he has a black motorcycle (probably a 1962 Harley). On the front of his motorcycle is some sort of shield (very similar to what an interstate highway sign looks like) with the number 79 on it in red. Near the end of my dream, I am moving rather oddly, with my fists going up and around in a sort of unnatural weird leaping run. We are in the area near the train tracks and halfway in the middle (and going north) of our neighbor’s orange grove (in real life he only ever mowed the front row of his grove, and the empty area near the tracks - which I thought to be a bit strange as rattlesnakes could hide in all the high weeds). I hear a strange humming and buzzing that is rather musical. At first I think it must be Hitler playing his “Death March/Funeral March” (as jeeps roll out behind us near the train tracks) but it turns out to be the motorcycle’s engine humming that song in a very strange and simplistic (but sped up) electronic way. There is a very weird mood in my dream. It is not sad, just slightly eerie. I keep trying to walk and run normally as I try to keep up with my father but I keep leaping oddly. Finally, instead of saying “Every Good Boy Does Fine” (the treble line notes) to talk about the music - a line he repeated now and then in real life, he softly says “Every Good Boy Dies” (with no “F” note represented) and soon, he rides off, I cannot catch up - This sheet music motif was actually on his tombstone in real life several years later (on the design request of a half-sister I had hardly ever communicated with - see image). There is no sadness, anger, or fear, just a vague sense of awe, mostly related to the weird “humming” motorcycle engine that continues to play “Funeral March” (Chopin) about twice as fast as standard. The audio in my dream was identical (with all the same tones and nuances) to the Commodore 64 Jumpman death theme (when he falls and loses a life) that I did not hear in real life until several years later (1980s, a few years after my father died) and I was also moving exactly like Jumpman (even the same in mid-leap form) regarding the weird leaping - convincing evidence of very precise precognition for years ahead. In real life at the time, I was making electronic dub music in a very simplistic, limited way as well as other strange recordings and comedy routines with my friends. One “trick” was that I had removed the erasing heads from a tape deck so that any new recording would layer over the first (but required precise timing), but the sound’s highs would be lost on each prior layer (so it was more viable to do the bass first and then build up from each A-based range, 55, 110, 220, 440, 880, etc). Another thing I did was to keep recording layers back and forth with two tape players, but again, it required precise timing, and the tape players’ capstan tolerance levels could not be that variable, because the track would either eventually sound slowed down or sped up (which was why it was common knowledge at the time that if you dubbed that way, you should have two same-brand tape decks not more than a few serial numbers apart). My father bought secondhand cassette decks and tape players almost on a weekly basis at the weekend flea markets just north of us and we sometimes rigged rather odd setups - my father built a large speaker set with several variously sized speakers as well as owning a very large and powerful dancehall amplifier for a time - one of the built-in effects was the exact same sound the vocal uses at the end of the original “Crimson and Clover” with the wavering pseudo-tremolo. Additional notes: My father died on February 14, 1979 (79 being the number on the shield on the front of the motorcycle in my dream.) Adolph Dubs (United States Ambassador to Afghanistan) died on February 14, 1979. Much here would have been missed had I not documented this one more closely. For example, I did not even catch the “cycle of death” play until quite recently. Given that most precognitive layers within a particular dream come from different time periods yet to unfold, and just as dreams combine aspects of the past somewhat ambiguously, it is also typical to miss combined otherwise unrelated patterns (for example Adolph Dubs, Jumpman, and my father’s death really were not connected in any way). As it is, hundreds of dreams before age nine related directly to my wife-to-be with such precise nuances as to be like one “big picture” already being determined and built long before I become aware in reality.
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