Yeah, still waitin .... But a dream to report....

Cordelia, Carla, Tex

So I normally don't remember dreams at all but for a week now, not having had any deep, dreamless sleep, I've been waking up remembering all of them. Some I've ended up thinking about for days.

Back in them latter '70s when still just a lad, out in that part of Nevada we loved, around Dayton, Silver City, like that, there was a woman Carla, Queen Of The Comstock, who was a real woman, yessir, believe it. She could hang with the best of 'em and best most of 'em. I wanted her desperately. When I told Dave Reisch that last year one night when we was drinking and yacking, he said, "Man, she would have eaten you alive!" Doubtless, but still ......

Anyways, one night at the bar at the Golden Gate Hotel in Silver City, I was drinking with Carla and trying, lad that I was, to chat her up. She toyed with me for a time the way a cat might a mouse, for entertainment's sake, before delivering the coup de grace. Carla looks up at me over a glass of whisky and says, "Sisco, you're so hip it makes me want to puke." True love! hey.

So last night I found myself dreaming I was back in Nevada and Nevada days, though somehow my dog Trooper was there with me, decades before he was even born. Me and Dave Reisch were drinking at the End Of The Trail Saloon and a couple of other old-time watering holes out there in them days. Dave and me was bellied up to the bar and I saw our old pal Tex come in, in the mirror behind the bar. Then I felt a woman's touch on my shoulder and turned around. There was Carla standing there, looking at me. She asked, "Do you remember me?"

Remember! Oh, my god!