A Living Magazine - Day 122 - Tapped in Brew City

I was with a bunch of high school and college friends. We were working on a festival of some kind in the middle of a city. An old girlfriend of mine was suddenly my girlfriend again. There was no memory of our time apart.

She was painting large plastic flowers with day-glo hues; green, pink, turquoise, hunter orange... She kept pulling her hair out of her face and out of the wet paint. She was making jokes, and everyone was laughing. She got up and took the tips of her hair damp with pink and green, and used them as tiny paintbrushes, walking up to each person and lightly streaking their cheeks with color.

Several other friends were trying to fix the axle on a flatbed trailer that I assumed would be a float in the festival parade. I kept forgetting what my job was. People didn't seem to care that I was just wandering from group to group observing what they were doing. I kept reaching for the camera that I always have attached to my belt, but it wasn't there. I found this mildly annoying, because there were so many great shots that I was missing. Outside the crowd was gathering on both sides of the street. It was a real party atmosphere.

Without any warning at all, a tremendous THUD pounded against the ground--it rippled across the entire city. The large room went silent, and everyone looked around. After our shock fully sunk in, we all ran to the window and saw that the people in the street were standing still and looking up. I ran to the front door and jerked it open quickly. The glass - already cracked from the impact of whatever had hit the ground - shattered and crumbled all over my arms. I attempted to brush it off, but I accidentally pushed tiny splinters into my forearms. My girlfriend ran up behind me and reached her arms around each side of my waist, feeling up and down my arms, trying to pick out the shards but got pricked herself.

Suddenly, everything was washed in a white light. There were no shadows, only differences in color. The day-glo hues seemed dark by comparison. Then as quickly as it burst out around us, the light turned off. All the typical apocalyptic scenarios went through my mind: nuke, asteroid, alien invasion... Something told me that it wasn't any of those things.

Slowly, carefully, I stepped out on to the sidewalk. The crowd outside was no longer looking up. Instead, they were stepping randomly back and forth around the million cracks that had formed everywhere. Every single crack in the sidewalks, buildings, and ornamental urns placed around the fancy town hall, were sprouting morning glory-like vines, stuffed - up and down - with colored flowers. I turned and looked toward my girlfriend. Behind her, I saw all of our friends staring at the city in amazement. I guess I was looking to someone for an answer to what was going on. But no one was talking.

Then my girlfriend walked up, looking so beautiful. Her golden, brassy hair, dabbed at the tips with fluorescent paint. Her eyes were blue-green, with their own kind of glow. There were no more buildings; no more sidewalks. The flower vines had woven together tightly, creating a new landscape where fruit trees grew, fields of green and orange grass stretched on into the horizon. The waves in sparkling lakes caught hints of the blue sky and visually cast blue rays in every direction. Something new had taken over. It was the kind of vista one might describe as "heavenly"; were one to come back from heaven and reveal its lush beauty to the bland minds of this once-darkened world.

I looked at her again, and she was blushing-pink and smiling so widely I thought she might melt like sweet sherbert. She said, "This must be it, honey! This must be IT!!"

* * * * * * *     

My watch alarm was beeping, and sounded like it had been doing that for quite a while. I felt the uncomfortable sensation of being covered in sweat, with my t-shirt stuck to my body. I reached up to my forehead and squeegeed it with my hand, then wiped my hand on my shirt.

Finally I could remember details from a dream. It had been months since that happened. I used a special technique to remember it. It required the repetition of important details, in order, working backwards chronologically. My "girlfriend" in the dream was the specter of a real long lost love, now far away from me... But I swore, as I rubbed my eyes, that somehow her personality had returned to my subconscious; if just for the last hour of the night.

In the dream I knew exactly what she was talking about when she mentioned "it". But, for the life of me, I could not remember what "it" was, now that I had reached full consciousness. I was frustrated. I don't try to interpret my dreams. I simply let them be the colorful counterpart of any following day. I just wanted to know what we had been waiting for in that dream--that's all. But I had no luck.  

Peppy - one of Allyson's dogs - was lying on the comforter sunk in between my legs, and Molly the cat looked down at me from her perch on the back of the couch. The sky outside was just beginning to brighten.

I had packed up all my stuff the day before, and I peered over to see "Saggy" (my backpack), looking quite firm and full. I imagined that's how it liked to be.

Allyson and I went through a basic checklist, since I was convinced I was going to forget something. But, it looked like I had it all with me, except what I'd left for her to either keep, give to her son, donate or throw away.

We left and drove into Minneapolis, arriving at the Greyhound bus station on 10th and Hennepin. Allyson went in with me, and we saw that only ticket holders could enter the gate area. I'd never seen that before at a bus station. I still had some time before the bus left, so we went back out on the sidewalk and talked before having a hug and saying goodbye.

The view across 10th Street.

At 11:30 am the boarding call came. I handed my ticket to the driver at the gate door, then walked out and unto the bus. There were only five other people, with the rest of the seats being empty. about a block from the station, I heard a strange whining in the bus engine. The driver was not able to go over 10 mph. She tried several times to stop and then go again, but the bus would not cooperate.

Then came the announcement: "We are experiencing a mechanical issue and need to go back to the station so I can get another bus." And, so we did--arriving back at the same slip we had left from. "Please gather your things and exit the bus. Wait in the gate area until I return." We dutifully obeyed.

I sat at a table there trying to decide if I would have time to work before the new bus arrived. After a while, I joined another guy at the counter to find out how long it would be. He wouldn't commit to a time, but told us that the garage was not far away. I returned to the table to work.

In about a half hour, our driver returned. The security guard went around telling each of us it was time to board again. As we did, I overheard the driver tell him that she had left the garage even earlier, but that bus was "messed up too". Apparently, the third bus is the charm.

We all sat in very similar places. I pulled out the laptop, and for once actually got a strong bus Wi-fi signal. We were on our way...

Goodby Minneapolis...

A quick stop in St. Paul.

We traveled along at a good clip and the road was pretty bumpy. Unfortunately, this laptop (which is actually a tablet that connects to a keyboard) easily loses its contact with the pins between the tablet and keyboard easily, and whenever we went over a bump it made typing very difficult. I was way behind on the blog and needed to get caught up, but it wouldn't happen on this trip.

I closed the laptop up and just let it charge for a while, considering my other offline options while I watched the landscape fly by.

We were about halfway to Milwaukee, when the driver announced that we would have a rest stop in Tomah, Wisconsin...

Bus 4931, resting in Tomah.

Classy dining. I was hungry though and enjoyed my burger and fries,

knowing it would cost me a meal the next day...

It is ladybug season in the Midwest. Allyson and I had been invaded

by them one afternoon a few days before. This McBug was a reminder. I had to smile.

Pink granite rocks and others surrounded the rest stop.

We were back on the road after our twenty minute stop. I continued to think about what to work on and after nearly falling asleep but not being comfortable enough to achieve it, I reached back down and popped open the laptop again. I would work on ANOWAV's music; a much easier task than trying to type, and one I could do with the tablet detached... 

We made an unscheduled rest stop (probably because the driver had to use the restroom) at a regular highway information center and I used the opportunity to take more pictures...

I feel for you, tree: a bit bald on top!

Sunset approaches, somewhere in Wisconsin.

I love the black sticker. Ironic--in a way.

When we were back on the road, I worked a bit more, and then closed up the laptop again...

In another hour we were cruising into the Milwaukee metropolitan area. I watched Miller Field spring up suddenly and then pass by...

I left this picture in because the lights look like little seagulls taking flight.

We pulled into the Milwaukee Super Bus Stop, and the driver threw open the door, with no announcement that we had gotten to our destination, and promptly left us all sitting there while she ran inside. No one else moved out of their seats, presumably because they were all headed for Chicago--the next stop. I wasn't quite sure what to do--whether this was my station or another on the other side of town or something. But I knew we were in Milwaukee and I figured I could do what I needed to do from here just as well as anywhere else in the city. So, I deboarded and walked into another of my seemingly endless line of transit stations.

I took out the laptop and examined Google Maps for a long time; so long in fact, that the guards and other workers there looked at me and circled closer and closer, until one of them said the classic line: "Time to move on sir." I smiled and complied like a good bum. I had nearly nothing left on my card. a friend had made a donation, but I wouldn't be able to transfer it until the next day.

I was still unsure about where to go. I could head down by the lake in the east or to a Miller Park in the west. I decided to go west, taking 5th Street, then turning onto Wisconsin Avenue. I passed stores on Wisconsin, the Central Library, a McDonald's--where I stopped to take a pee, but had to buy something to earn the privilege of using the restroom. I bought a "McDouble" for $1.69, used the restroom and then headed back out into an uncertain night. 

The 6th Street Bridge.

Purple lighting around the bridge columns.

Who can tell what is missing in this city picture?

The walk along Wisconsin Avenue, heading west.

Pabst Mansion.

When I'd reached 27th Street, I knew I was closer to Miller Park. Twenty-seventh is also Route 57 and it is a bridge that runs north to south across the Menomonee River... 

Taken looking east in the middle of the bridge.

Twenty-seventh Street Bridge, looking south.

When I reached Miller Park, I saw "The Domes" I had seen earlier on Google Maps. Very impressive at night. The closest one to me had sparkling lights all around it. I tried to get a picture of these flashing lights, but the exposure wasn't long enough...

Finally, I got to the other side of the parking lot, past The Domes, and then turned left onto Pierce Street. I was quite encouraged to see large dark areas throughout the park. When I saw that all was quiet on the streets around me, I made my way into the darkness, toward the small pond. Crisscrossing the park, were about a dozen interconnected paths. When I reached the one closest to the pond, I left it and walked down to the edge of the water.

It wasn't ideal. The incline was steep all along the bank, except for one place where a stand of trees propped the ground up enough to almost being level. I sat for a long time there, with my pack still zipped up tight. It was my ritual. I would wait for at least an hour to make sure there were no surprises lurking.

I'd felt butterflies earlier at the station. It always happens in a new city. Every city has a vibe; a first impression that is either supported or rejected by subsequent experience in the next few days. But, any anxiety had now evaporated. I owned this spot for the night.

I resolved to make it through the night without the sleeping bag, so that if the morning brought unwanted visitors I could be out of there in about three minutes. Not having my green tarp anymore, it having been stolen in Spokane, I pulled out the tent's rain tarp and laid it down.

Super-rough camping.

Somehow I'd managed to fit my new winter coat into the same pocket as my sleeping bag. I unzipped the bulging mass, and yanked out the coat to use as a blanket.

Even though I had been wearing my blue button down while I was walking, I removed it and had on just my Boston t-shirt, making me virtually invisible. But it was wet with sweat. Because I was now below the ground level of the park, I hung the blue shirt up to dry out of sight. The temperature was very mild at first--about 60 degrees F and humid. I laid down, with the coat over the top part of my body, and tried to use my arms as a pillow. It wasn't working. I remembered there was an extra pair of socks that wasn't in the bag of other underwear, so I reached in and pulled it out to use as a pillow. It worked alright, and soon I fell asleep.

At 10:17 pm a cyclist rode by above me, turned right where I was, then headed back the way he came. No big deal. I noticed how nice the lights looked across the pond and took this shot, before falling asleep again...

On the hard, unlevel ground I woke about every hour to turn onto my left side and then my right side, over, and over, and over again. But I did sleep. No dreams came on this night--none that I could remember, anyway. It got much colder as the morning approached, and I futilely tried to pull the coat down over my waist a little further. My legs were pretty chilly by the time the watch alarm went off at 5:30 am.

Milwaukee Sleeping Place 1(?)