Tequila/Monk

Dream of flying on a small jet airplane

June 19, 2010

A long dream to end this morning's sleep period ... many people I know, or have known, are boarding a small jet aircraft (like a Lear jet) to take a ride to, well, I don't know where. Everyone is supposed to get seated, and there are folding chairs, some people sitting in a three-stall bathroom, and I end up sitting with some other people in something like the back seat of a car. We're supposed to balance out the weight in the plane, so there's a lot of discussion about that.

My paternal grandfather appears to be the pilot, and before flying, he takes a big swig out of a huge wine or beer bottle. (Which is weird because he never drank.) Suddenly very nervous, I lean forward and see a strange man already seated in the cockpit, and I feel a little safer.

We take off, fly, and there are some conversations I don't recall. Then we land in an area with a lot of red rock, like Wyoming or Utah. We're cruising the streets in this plane, with my father-in-law now driving. I see a big opening on the road in front of us, and suggest there's enough room to take off again.

Next, we're flying again, when there's a pounding knock on the side cabin door. At first I see this person, a dark-skinned man in a skin-tight red outfit (he seems Spanish or Italian), and I think he needs to get in, but then everyone starts screaming to the pilot that we need to do something to lose this man. The pilot tilts the plane sharply to the left, and the man falls off the cabin but lands on the left wing. He's getting some sort of metallic rope device out, and yes, he is trying to damage the plane, and people are telling the pilot to "scrape him off", and then as he makes a move with this cable ... I wake up.

Sigh. What would a dream be like these days without someone trying to kill someone?

P.S. -- I think there's a metaphor in 98% of this dream ... maybe "Life is a journey, and the pilot may not be sober?"

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