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This morning, I visited New York City in a dream. It was a strangely-rememberable dream. I had gone to New York City in a class with Jim Tyner, a faculty member at Kent. Also in this class was Sam Edmonds, an old friend from high school whom I haven't seen since Kling's funeral, and with whom I have had no communication of note for a long time before that.
As a group, we went to a bar/grill somewhere in New York, an area that looked remarkably like Akron's downtown entertainment district. This bar seated us in a room that looked oddly like the classroom I teach Intro in this summer. As we sat in this room, we heard a band start to play in the main room, and Sam and I went to check it out. The main room looked suspiciously like the entry of the Longhorn Steakhouse in Cuyahoga Falls and was crammed with people.
The band was led by Jason Dailey, a kid from Muncie who I think (but am not sure, since I didn't ever really talk to him ever) turned out to be pretty useless. I mentioned something to Sam about how this was further proof of our small world. He didn't respond, because he was excited that Hai Yang (another Muncie kid, this one is making something of himself, I think) was expertly performing using a bass. They played an excellent set of Goldfinger covers.
I went to the hostess stand to ask what the band was named. I never got the chance, because at the hostess stand, I encountered Luke Amos, another old friend and (amazingly enough) Emmy-winner. I asked him what he was doing in New York, and he replied that he had come to this bar/bookstore to buy his books for school. The hostess was retrieving his order, which is why I couldn't ask for the band's name. Apparently, as Luke was telling me, he was now a freshman at some university in the city (and he, in real life, is just finishing his masters at Ball State) and was worried that he had chosen the wrong major of particulate physics (which I don't even know to exist). When I asked him about his confusion, he showed me his booklist, which included about 50 items for the semester. I said "ouch, man, that sucks." He said, "I don't mind the reading, but these books are going to cost me $3,000. 3,000-fucking-dollars for books!"
"Ah," I replied, "the cost of living in the city is much higher." Feeling especialy satisfied with the evening's events, I walked out of the bar to the sidewalk and lit a clove cigarette (which I haven't smoked one of in five years). And with that, I woke up.






