Beneath the Wheel: Book Review

Dork score: 10/10

This novel reminds me a lot of the film, Dead Poets Society. They share essentially the same theme. I wouldn't be surprised if the writer of the script was inspired by this book - since the book was published in 1906 and the film released roughly 83 years later.

Excellent book.

The Shark Attack: Receipt Paper Note Part IV

[ I'm at a public pool. There are a bunch of people in the water swimming around and having a good time. I'm sitting down with a few friends. We're just looking out at the water. Somehow there don't seem to be as many people in the water as before. I didn't see anyone leave. I tell my friends, but they don't acknowledge me and continue staring at the water.

I stand up and walk over to the water's edge. Something definitely isn't right. I look over at an old man doing the backstroke. He is the only one left in the pool. How is that possible?

One arm in, one arm out, kicking his legs as he moves along at a swift pace. I'm always amazed by old folks who can just keep swimming and swimming. I keep my eyes on the old man. One arm in, the other arm....... is missing!

The old man splashes around and seems to be having a panic attack. He looks in my direction and desperately calls for help. "Shark!! Help me!!", he screams. I turn around and shout at my friends to come help me rescue the old man. But they're still just sitting there not responding to me. I turn back around in the old man's direction.. but he is not there.

I start sweating. I start scanning the water for any sign of the old man... running up and down the edge of the pool. I can't believe there's no sign of him. I run back over to my friends... are they even my friends? They are complete zombies; they just sit there. I don't understand what is going.

"Help!" The old man is alive. He's at the edge of the water, clutching the area where his arm used to exist. I quickly grab my beach towel and run over to him. "Pull me out of the water! Please!" He is bleeding profusely - not only from his arm, but what appear to bite marks all around his body. I muster up the strength, grab his only arm, pull as hard as I can until his whole body is out of the water.

I use my towel to wrap up his wound as best I can. "Thank you. I thought I was a goner. Tell your friends not to go in the water." - as he looked over my shoulder. I turn around to see all of them standing there behind us, looking out at the water. Why were they not concerned about the old man? They begin to walk toward the water. "Don't go in the water!", we both shout. We can't seem to get through to them. "You will die! It isn't safe. Look what happened to this old man!". Still they kept walking on. They all jumped into the water and swam out to the middle of the pool.

One by one they're pulled down beneath the surface - most of them being torn to shreds. Some manage to come up above the surface just long enough shout for help. All of a suddenly they have voices again. I look over at the old man, horrified at what is happening. "I warned them! Why wouldn't they listen??", I said. "You tried, my boy. It's too late for them." The old man and I just sat there watching this madness unfold. ]

Okay, so I admit I spiced this one up a bit - I don't think I've ever had a dream with actual dialogue in it. However, this modified version does capture the essence of my dream.

Receipt Paper Note Origin

My Original Nightmare: Receipt Paper Note Part III

What could a five year old boy, having an ordinary life, be so afraid of that he leaps down what seemed to be an entire flight of stairs to escape?

I'll tell you. But it doesn't make any sense. The contents had no tie to his reality. It's just a dark and deeply terrifying experience which likely can't be captured here with tiny, un-scary letters. But, I'll to to explain what he experienced about once a month, for about a year.

[ My Original Nightmare

It's dark, very dark, but there is a glimmer of moonlight on the horizon - but I can barely see the outline of my arms and hands. I'm in a big lake, but I can't see the edge. There is no boat. Am I in the water? I don't know. I can't just be hovering over the water.... ? My legs aren't visible... so they must be in the water - but I am not moving at all. How am I not sinking? It's not ice because I can make a splash - but there is no sound. Everything is so still and quiet. I keep looking around. There is nothing. Maybe this isn't a lake...am I in the middle of an ocean? That can't be....

The light source, as small as it was, seemed to be receding. I panic and begin to paddle my way toward the light. I'm not moving very fast. Am I moving at all? Aside from the light source, there was no way to tell if I had moved from my original position.

I am alone - or so I initially believe. I can feel something. There is still no sound, but I know something is behind me. I can feel a sort of tugging.... not on my physical body... what is this feeling? It's pulling at me... I swivel around but still see nothing. I'm being pulled away from the light. This force... it wants something... it wants to pull me in.. it wants to smother me...it wants to kill me.

I have to get away. I try and I try and I try...but I am not moving. I feel like I am going to die. I can sense the intention of this..... this thing.... this evil.... this nothingness....tears are steaming down my face and in to the water.... my body is being engulfed, my existence is collapsing, I close my eyes and I start to accept my fate.... but I realize I can't give up. I can NEVER give up.

I force my eyes open. I am no longer in the lake. I can move my legs. I stand up and look it around. It still still dark. I look around slowly... just as I look over my shoulder, I see a large, dark mass in the distance.........and I hear a low growl from the same direction. My skin crawls and my hair stands on end and my eyes widen as the fear takes hold of me. I scream as loud as I can as I start running in opposite direction. There's a light and I run for it. Through a doorway and down a dark hallway... the light becomes more intense. I quickly look behind me and the darkness follows - it is all along the walls and moving quickly behind me.

I come to a flight of stairs and take a leap of faith as I try to save my own life. As I am flying through the air I can see the darkness following still along the wall. I don't know what's going to happen. By instinct I grab at the railing to slow my fall as I approach the last few steps. I slam into the stairs and the railing as gravity takes over, toppling over at the bottom of the stairs. My back is against a wall and I am looking up at the stairs from the bottom. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to burst out of my throat. But there was nothing. Just the staircase in my house that leads up to my bedroom.

My parents crash out of bed and rush over to me, startled to find me out of breath crumbled up at the bottom of the stairs. I was finally safe. Or so I thought. ]

Little did I know this would be a recurring dream. The stair incident only happened once and it never was quite as scary as the first time, but I always woke up in a sweat. To this day, I have no idea what caused such a dream. Like I said, my childhood was fairly ordinary. Nothing bad or scary ever happened to me and I don't remember being particularly afraid of the dark. One thing I can think of was that I lived in Alaska during the period of the monthly dreams.The days were short, so I had to make the most out of the sunlight.

Some things just can't be explained I suppose. Perhaps I was more afraid of the dark than I remember. Or perhaps something did happen - but has since been purged from my memory. I think the most likely scenario however, is that it was just an innate fear that randomly manifested itself. The dream did stop, thankfully - but I will never forget it. I have never been more scared in my life.

Receipt Paper Note Origin

The T-Rex Attack: Receipt Paper Note Part II

[ I'm in a shopping mall walking through the aisle, mostly just wandering around and people watching. Suddenly a friggin' T-Rex crashes through wall of the building Jurassic park style and starts to roar like in the movies. Naturally I begin running away like everyone else. Out of all the friggin' people in the mall, it starts chasing after me. (Of course it is - it's my nightmare after all)

I try to think quickly how I can get away so I turn in to one of the department stores hoping it didn't see me. I was hiding in a clothes rack peeking through some shirt sleeves over at the window to the store. And there it was. It's gigantic head just outside the glass, fogging up the window as it breathed. It must have had my scent or something because I knew it couldn't see me; I was so still after all! A T-Rex can only see movement, according to the movie!

I knew it was waiting for me. It was just sitting there, panting, looking through the department store's window with it's freakishly huge eyeball - straining to locate me. I knew the moment I moved, it would lunge at me and likely bite me in half. I'm dead, I thought. I couldn't go back the way I came - and if I moved a muscle it would be able to tell where I was. I decided I needed to risk it. I was betting there was a rear entrance to the store; if I was fast enough I'd be able to escape.

That bastard was dead-set on eating me. It was not going to leave me alone. I knew it was true, so I took action. I ran as fast as I could toward the back of the store. But what the hell am I stepping on as I run...peanut butter and molasses?  I look  down and see nothing... it's just a regular floor...I hear the glass window shatter into pieces as the big bastard roars again and starts stampeding in my direction.

Just like in the first movie, instead of being helpless on a toilet bowl, I'm stuck in some sort of imaginary peanut butter glue as I stare up on this monster about to have his lunch - me. In a flash it has it's jaws around my body - about to sink it's teeth in - and then someone hits the rewind button. I'm transported to another scene. I'm confused. And then I wake up. ]

That is all. Until next time.

Receipt Paper Note Origin

The Expensive Football: Receipt Paper Note Part I

I used to work at a drugstore as a cashier and I was extremely bored most of the time. Whenever I was up at the register and there were no customers, you are supposed to find something productive to do like sweep the floor, or straighten out the candy selection. Instead - when I knew the manager wasn't keeping an eye on me - which I'm assuming he did often, I would let my mind wander and I would jot down random notes on receipt paper that I would manually feed through the machine. The notes include random ideas or memories - either from actual experiences or dreams.

I did this quite often, so I accumulated a pile of receipt-paper notes that I never got rid of. I've been carrying them around, from apartment to apartment, held together by a big binder clip. I thought I would share some of them.

[ 'The Expensive Football'

I think I was around 10 years old. My mother and I were in a store - probably a Target or Walmart. As we were walking down one of the aisles, I spotted one of those big cages full of balls - you know, the ones that usually contain either basketballs, bouncy balls, foam balls. Like most kids, I grabbed one to play with while we were shopping. I don't quite remember what kind of ball it was, but I think it may have been a small foam football of some sort.

As we approached the registers to check out, I asked my mother if she would buy the ball for me. She almost immediate say, "No". I can't remember the wording exactly, but I believe she said it was pricey and that I wouldn't even play with it much. I didn't cry, but became quite sad that I wouldn't get to keep the ball I had grown fond of in the last twenty minutes or so. I don't recall if I put up a fight or begged - or if she just felt bad and sensed my disappointment, but she gave in and bought the ball for me.

At first I was happy, but later on during the drive home I started to feel bad. My family wasn't poor, but we weren't too well off either. I realized maybe I shouldn't have asked for the ball. Maybe I should have just been happy with the toys I already had. Right after getting back home and just as both my mother and I got out of the car, I told her how I felt. She told me, yes the ball was a little expensive, but as long as I enjoyed it, that would make the purchase worthwhile. I smiled and went off to play. I played with the ball for the remainder of the day. I felt better about the purchase and I was determined to get as much joy out of it as possible. ]

This is more or less a true story. I don't know what happened to that ball, but I think I kept it for at least a little while and played with it several more times. Sadly, those foam balls don't last forever before they start to break apart. I wasn't a dramatic child; from what I remember and what I've been told. I was pretty mellow, much like I am now, so I don't think I put up a fuss or begged too much for that ball. I actually don't remember begging for much of anything as a child - and I don't think it had much to do with my family's finances.

If I were to extract a moral of the story, it would be to make the best of the situation - whatever the situation might be. Express how you feel and do something about it.

That's all for now. Stay tuned...