Moon beams and midnight dreams.

I can usually recall what I was dreaming of the night before with remarkable clarity, but occasionally I awake to find that I can’t remember more than a few random images of what movie my subconcious played out during my slumber. Quite often this can leave me in an odd state of mind where my morning is plagued with a sense of annoyance over why the hell I woke up with Kenny Loggins singing Foot Loose in my head. I don’t even like Kenny Loggins or the movie of the same name! What the hell was I dreaming of that I needed to have that particular piece of music in the background?

Whatever it was, it had something to do with pipe smoking. I can recall declaring to someone, no idea who, that I was going to take up smoking a pipe. I’m not a smoker myself, tried it for about two weeks back around high school age, couldn’t see why anyone would willingly participate in such a habit, and quit, but I do have fond memories of my Grandfather and his tendancy to occassionally puff on a pipe. He generally smoked cigarettes like most of the other folks I knew grewing up, but every now and then he’d break out one of his pipes and light it up and I just loved the smell of it. I don’t know what brand of tobacco he used when smoking his pipe, but unlike the smell of most cigarettes, whatever he used had a very pleasant smell that I can’t quite describe beyond being ‘warm’. It’s the only smell associated with tobacco that I have enjoyed. Of course I have no idea what it must have tasted like, probably not as pleasant as the smell, but I decided long ago that if I were to add to my small list of vices one more thing it would probably be pipe smoking. Assuming I could figure out what brand of tobacco my Grandfather used and that smoking hadn’t been made into a Federal crime by the time I decided to pick up the habit.

Which brings me back to what I was talking about in the first place, my dreams last night and what little I could remember of them. What the hell could I be dreaming about that would involve my deciding to smoke a pipe while listening to Kenny Loggins singing Footloose? How are these two subjects even remotely related? I checked his website and Kenny doesn’t appear to have taken up pipe smoking himself, if anything has become even more impossibly squeeky clean since leaving the limelight, so it can’t be that I saw him doing it on Entertainment Tonight and registered it in my subconcious. No clue. Damn, this is going to bug me all day. It would probably help if I could get the stupid song out of my head, but of course it’s wedged in there like a popcorn kernal stuck in my teeth. Ever present, ever annoying.

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