Big little words I can't remember, again. A musician spotlighted in a half column newspaper spot used a certain official word for dreaming during a zone between sleep and waking, the fascination for which informs his work.

Having NPR's Morning Edition on the bedside radio during the early hours will bring images to the wallpaper inside one's eyelids but lately I've kept away, via "off" button, the atrocities, recessions, disasters and campaigning. Worse yet, the forgoing are not mutually exclusive.

I had a prior to rising dream recently in which I was sitting in a restaurant, or even night club, booth drinking tepid ice tea from one of those stemmed plastic cups which might be called a "tulip" type. An emblem of St. Patrick's Day, understood in the dream to be past so the cup was a leftover, was on it and also there was something about Bing Crosby. The cup had a hole in the side and I was working---drinking?---around it.

I spotted myself in a mirror across the booth but the view was from my rear and I thought about my music playing and then how "pensive" this would be as a photo.

Definitely narcissistic! Then I was outside and just before the dream ended some guys came rolling up in those tractor pulling a flatbed trailer vehicles you see on athletic fields. They were dressed and referred to as farm workers, understood to be there to eat, and now I was in Bakersfield and environs, with a tint of wondering about my own past career.

I woke up, probably just as well since of all the places in the world my imagination could pony up . . . Maybe the radio was on.