Nightly Visitor

I have been having a reoccurring dream - last night was the third time this week. I am at an antique show. I am naked or in my underwear. I have scrounged junk to try to sell. No one is buying anything. The customers and dealers are all very young. Many of them are doing quite well. Last night's version had a brown haired cosmopolitan girl asking me about the prominent scar on my chest from my open heart surgery. I am being inspected as if I am another old artifact.

I sense my nakedness but don't have the will or the ability to change it. I have a sense of shame coupled with serious questions of self esteem. Most of the people don't seem terribly concerned. I get angry and throw a particularly patronizing twenty something out of my booth. He turns out to be a very important buyer from New York whom I have alienated. It is my turn to lose.

The dream shifts and I now am driving a car on a high mountain ridge with my brother and father. Through snow and deep ravines. I only remember bits and pieces.

If any of you catch me in my near naked state, either find me a shrink or throw me a pair of skivvies, will you?