Dreams About Flying and Finals

I guess I'm not so weird after all. Turns out a couple of my recurring dreams are shared by many. Not every last detail, thankfully, but the gist of these recurring dreams is surprisingly common. One dream is liberating and magical, the other a harsh dose of "I'm in college-age deep shit now and I can't believe I let this happen".

THE FLYING DREAM: In this one, I develop the supernatural ability to fly. I fly over beautiful landscapes, arms outstretched, dreamily euphoric. Sometimes I ascend to great heights, then zoom low for a better look, effortlessly maneuvering around majestic rock outcroppings. Occasionally I fly indoors, often in gymnasiums where my ability to slam dunk draws gasps from the crowd.

I am told that such drams are a sign of good mental health. Sounds reasonable, but why then do I sometimes find myself surrounded by a forest of high electrical lines threatening immediate death by electrocution?

THE UNEXPECTED FINAL EXAM DREAM: This one leads to a restless sleep. I find myself back in college near the end of a term. Suddenly I realize that for the last few months, I haven't attended any classes, read any of the material or prepared for finals in the slightest way. What to do? Is there any way to avoid failure? And what would failure mean in my life? How could I, a normally responsible person with a record of solid academic achievement to that point, allow this to happen? Oh, the horror!

I hear it's fairly common to experience "worst nightmare" dreams too, so I guess I'm not as neurotic as I once thought. In real life, I don't think I'm neurotic at all. So why does this dream pop into my sleepy brain several times a year? Is there part of me that needs reminding that if I don't stay responsible, the consequences will be bad? That people will think of me as being an undependable flake with a questionable reasoning skills?

In truth, I've had far worse dreams than the recurring final exam dream. The one that really bothers me deals with death and has me as the central figure in an unsolved murder. When this dream starts getting really ugly, there's nothing I like more than waking up to remind myself that hey, it was just a dream.

My favorite dreams? Once every couple years, sometimes when I'm in a foreign land, my dream takes on a quality so realistic that I am find myself completely immersed as if the dream is actually real, and in the dream, I am interacting with a historic figure at an important point in time. In such dreams, the experience is so poignant that in my mind, the dream is inexplicably real. Once when I was in Paris, I had a dream in which Napolean and I spent a few enjoyable days of friendship together. This was pre-Waterloo and his later exile. "Nappy", as I called my newfound chum, was musing to me about his rise to power, the joys of conquest and sharing personal thoughts in the way close friends do. Another time, back in the days of pirates, I walked the streets of Christiansted, St Croix in the US Virgin Islands on a night with scattered clouds and a full moon, savoring every moment of danger and intrigue. Although both dreams occurred years ago, they are permanently etched on the bedrock of my memory, both occupying a treasured place.

I never studied dream interpretation and don't pretend to understand what all this nocturnal nonsense is about, but I must admit, for the most part dreams are wonderful things. Very often my dreams are whacky as hell but there's something about how the sleeping mind works that fills me with gratitude. With a few notable exceptions.

Michael Franti and Spearhead

Tomorrow night Michael Franti and Spearhead are performing at The Cuthbert Ampitheatre in Eugene, Oregon and I'll be there, rain or shine. I'm amazed how many folks remain unfamiliar with this band. I give them my highest recommendation.

Franti and Spearhead are Jamaican and at times, they sound totally reggae but that's not their whole deal, not by a long shot. They have a world beat sound, they rock like crazy and their music compels you to move.

Best of all, they have a message---in the best tradition of artists like Bob Marley and John Lennon, theirs is a message of peace and of revolution. Their lyrics raise important questions about the true motives behind most modern wars and they have a fresh way of articulating their skepticism about political leaders worldwide.

Add it all up, and it's easy to understand why so many are hopping on the Spearhead bandwagon. Their fans are mostly young latter-day hippies with a fondness for herb. Yup, tomorrow night should be great fun. I'll let you know.

Barack Photo

My friend Shannon Walker, an excellent photographer by the way, managed to catch a shot of my conversation with Barack Obama. As you can see, Secret Service pulled in tight to make sure nothing weird happened. I'm still buzzing about my encounter with the man I hope will be our next president.

My Conversation With Barack Obama

Life's greatest moments often come when you least expect them. My conversation with Barack Obama last night certainly falls in that category.

I first learned of Barack long before he was a national figure because my late brother Steve, a prominent journalist in Chicago and nationally, sort of "discovered" him. At the time, Obama held no office and was running for a position in the Illinois State Legislature. Steve's life in journalism and his lifelong interest in politics had put him in the company of every president from Nixon to W, and Steve was a person with a keen eye for serious political talent.

In Barack Obama, Steve saw a remarkably intelligent and charismatic person, and he said so in several of his regular columns in the Chicago Sun Times. In fact, I understand that Steve was the first journalist to compare Obama with JFK and to predict that someday he could occupy the White House. I know Steve would have been thrilled to see this prediction come true.

Last night, I was attending a track meet in Eugene where the US Olympic Trials in track and field will take place next month. Quite unexpectedly, Barack Obama showed up---he's campaigning in Oregon, of course, because our presidential primary election is next week.

As Obama made his way through the surprised crowd shaking hands, he passed directly in front of me, and as we shook hands I asked him if he remembered Steve Neal. What happened next will stay with me forever. Obama froze, changed expressions, and focused his eyes sharply on mine saying "Of course I remember Steve Neal". I explained that Steve was my brother and Obama said "Steve said many very favorable things about me early in my career, and although he was well respected for his objectivity, his columns were extremely helpful to me at that point". He more or less said that he might not be where he is today if Steve hadn't jump started his career through the power of his columns in the Chicago Sun Times.

Barack has met Steve's widow, Susan, and his two daughters, both recent college grads, and was very aware of Steve's tragic and unexpected suicide in 2004. He asked how the family was doing and asked specifically about the girls. We wished each other well, he had a brief pleasant exchange with my wife, and then he moved on.

Altogether we spoke for a minute or two. We were surrounded by Secret Service and a throng of admirers, all no doubt wondering why Obama was spending so much time talking to me. I was already a stalwart Obama supporter, but my close encounter confirmed what I thought, namely, that he's even more powerful up close. Barack has an obvious captivating aura of goodness and wisdom. He's a unique politician with a special ability to excite, inspire and unite our country like nobody we've seen for generations.

Steve was far ahead of the curve in identifying Obama's star qualities. Other than JFK, who was the last American as capable of inspiring hope in our country or worldwide as Barack Obama? In a world where hopes and dreams are continually diminished by frightening developments and new threats, no force can match the power of hope. More than anything, I pray that our country chooses Obama in November. Our best prospect for changing the dark reality visited upon us by our current leadership, and for renewing worldwide admiration and respect for our country, lies with Barack Obama.

Eric Clapton's New Autobiography: "Slowread"

Ever since Cream's debut, I've been a big Eric Clapton fan. Among the artists of his generation, few have managed to evolve over the decades in such admirable fashion. In interviews, Clapton presents himself as a thoughtful, articulate and humble soul. When his autobiography was released recently, I was interested to learn more about the man. Bad decision.

To his credit, Clapton acknowledges that his drug addiction and alcoholism caused him to behave terribly and hurt many for over twenty years. He admits that he was a shallow, womanizing lout whose sole contribution to the world came in the form of music. Well done Eric.

So what's my problem with the book? Let's start with this---it's a boring read with little in the way of unexpected revelation or meaningful insights. Eric could've used a stronger ghost writer. Second, while he admits a modicum of bad behavior over the years, he tries to pass off a lifetime's worth of despicable acts by pointing toward a poor family support structure, neatly absolving himself of true responsibility for carrying on like a complete asshole for twenty plus years.

Third, I am troubled by his refusal to offer the slightest comment on any world issue at any point in his 40+ year career. He addresses this with a sentence or two at the end of the book by saying something about how this would detract from his musical presentation and that he just isn't that interested. I'm not buying that. My interpretation of his comments about values and his penchant for rifle hunting with $10,000 collector shotguns on private English game preserves makes me think he knows he would alienate much of his audience if he spoke openly about his political views.

And if his fans knew that he was indeed an asshole, would he continue having the financial clout to buy 150 foot luxury yachts and mansions throughout the world? For Eric, I get the impression that simply wouldn't do.

See Kevin Costner In Concert For Just $70?

It was in today's news. Yup, Kevin Costner is coming to Eugene, Oregon to play a concert heading his "Western rock band Modern West" at Eugene's lovely Hult Center. Tickets can be had for a mere $70. On reading this, my wife said she wouldn't pay that much to see him act---I view which I suspect is widely held.

To Costner's credit, he is coming to Eugene to help raise money for a cause he supports: baseball. Costner is from Fullerton, California and it happens that Cal State-Fullerton has enjoyed tremendous success in college baseball, largely because they had a great coach, George Horton, who happens to be a Costner buddy. Well, the University of Oregon just launched a college baseball program and managed to lure Horton from Fullerton to Eugene to coach the new Duck baseball team. And the team needs money, which I guess is why Costner is charging $70 per ticket.

I support Costner's willingness to help the University of Oregon have its own Field of Dreams, but not for $70. Maybe it would have been better if Kevin just wrote a check to support his old friend's new baseball program.