Goodbye, Mr. Japanese man, goodbye...

I traded my 1998 Honda Civic for a Volkswagon bus. It's light blue. A piece of sky on wheels.

When I got in my new VW bus, I couldn't distinguish the brake from the gas pedal, a problem I've had since I started driving. Perhaps I don't know when to go and when to stop. Maybe is just the going I fear.

From my VW bus window I could see pick-up trucks falling from the sky. Red ones. Green ones. I saw a Doris Day woman in a pink pick-up truck screaming for help. She knew her life was going to end once the truck hit the ground. I saw a family inside another pick-up truck. They were banging on the windows, crying for help. Then, I saw him, a calm and collected Japanese man in his truck. He was falling too, but he was not afraid to die. He wore black rim glasses from the 1950s. He wore a white shirt and a black tie. He turned to me, smiled, and waved goodbye. I waved back.

Goodbye, Mr. Japanese man, goodbye...

The above is another dream I had this week.

The video below is a TV car commercial I watched years ago in a laundromat. Since I don't have a TV set, I'm easily attracted to the light and the colors of the screen. It feels like seeing fire for the first time. The song and the woman's voice caught my attention too. Oh, and I didn't give a rat's ass about the car.