Don't you hit me with that cosmic debris!

(With thanks to Frank Z.)
Being a collection of random junk found floating through the somatosphere during the last 48 hours or so.

1. The meteors I've been seeing on my nightly walk with the family dog, Dali Golly, apparently are visible to folks on the Continent too. Some of them have had a little different reaction, however, taking them for UFOs instead of making a wish, as I did. But the Germans are always ahead of the curve (or I'm always behind it). So, what do you make of it, Scully? "These people are obviously delusional, Mulder."

2. While drifting in or out of twilight sleep the other night, I had the following very brief dream: I'm standing on a beach, walking slowly toward the water, and there are several other people standing to my right and left. I don't see their faces and can't recognize them, only their half-lit, shadowy figures moving even slower than I am.

Both Gven's relatives and mine have talked about a beach reunion in 2006; am I anticipating that?

3. Another, longer dream last night: I'm at a party at my old friend Hank's parents' large, rambling suburban house in Michigan. His dad is actively circulating from room to room, talking with everyone and making us all feel welcome. I don't recall seeing Hank himself at the party, although his presence was somehow evident. I don't recall other individuals either, but there were lots of people there. The space was long and open, uncrowded enough for people to flow freely from room to room, and the adjoining rooms were a step or two up or down on both ends of the one I was in. There was plenty of food and drink set out on low tables, which Hank's dad kept inviting us to have and enjoy. I woke up with the old pop song "Friday on my Mind" by the Easy Beats (thank you, Lulu and Kevin) on my mind.

Hank and I spent a lot of time together in the mid-seventies, then we went our separate ways, him to Purdue and then the Navy, me to Oberlin and other adventures. I haven't seen him since the early nineties, when we both had little kids. Now we send each other Christmas cards about our families growing up; maybe something is telling me to get in touch.

4. The mother and daughter duo in my Thursday night beginning taiji class seemed to enjoy the last meeting of the quarter. As usual, a full roster of students in September dwindled as the weeks went by, and by week seven they were the only ones left. We practiced Basic Movement and clarified a couple of their questions about the mechanics of shifting the weight and turning the torso in order to fully focus on doing one thing at a time. Then we tried out the first few moves of a form they hadn't done before to give them a sense of what it's like at the next level. The mom said she's going to do the Basic class again, and the daughter is going to think about it.

That's the way it goes. Last summer there were three very enthusiastic, purposeful, inquisitive women, around my age or older, in the Saturday morning class that met outside in the park. At the time they were all anxious to start up again in the fall, and I haven't seen them since. A youngish man who practiced diligently all spring quarter disappeared during the summer, then resurfaced this fall. You never know.