We be truckin'.

I knew October would be a busy month. Too much going on and not enough discipline paid to putting words on the screen, but I am back now.

Last night I had a dream that I was driving a big stinking dump truck through narrow streets crowded with pedestrians and small cars. The dump truck was an odd one. It was more like a giant Radio Flyer wagon than a dumper - I stood on top of it to drive and steered the beast with a long yoke that gave me precious little control. The brakes were so bad that I was forced to look into the future and anticipate events that had not yet occured - traffic lights changing a mile ahead or people randomly stepping into the street. I had to take evasive action and veer off the road several times into vacant lots. This only slowed my progress a little. The momentum of my truck was unstoppable. When pedestrians stepped into my path I leaned on the horn, but it gave out only a feeble quack. People grew angry with me, understandably, as I was about to run them down. All the other cars moved with grace and efficiency. I trundled forward like a blind buffoon, barely containing my load, narrowly avoiding mass homicide.

I think this dream means I need to go vote. I think I can change things if I do that. If this old dumper keeps on as it is, I am going to have to leap off into some bushes along the way and let the beast go do its worst. There is still a chance, however, that I might just be able to reach the E-brake or steer the thing into some alternate path where the rest of the world isn't going to get pissed off that I ran over everything they hold dear. A small chance, but it is there.

Good luck, America.