that I’d actually gone to Seattle earlier and been older and had been a weird footnote in Pearl Jam’s history instead of that it just deeply affected my own young adult history. details are already hazy but I think I actually got some kind of minor hit shortly after they broke really big with Once.

they were aware of me and there was some story there I’d been entwined with their life in some way but there was some minor scandal in the past. I remembered the whole thing with great fondness and they were aware of me very tangentially.

I had met some of the people of the time. I knew some of the childhood friends I knew in Rockford at the time but there. I kind of met up with some of the people from that time and talked to them and had some unfinished business and was kind of making headway getting back in that sphere and revisiting my life back then. some crazy stuff that’s really hazy about some ARG or something of the time. (way pre ARG)

anyway, the only punchline is that I went to some function as a part of some semi satisfying conclusion to the whole story that left me with some momento, some greasy old key. and when I walked in the room Jeff Ament saw me and evidently remembered me and my song from back then and immediately was like “fuck no, get this dude out of here” and had evidently had the impression I was a really shady dude and he was the reason I hadn’t been closer to Pearl Jam. he was unrelenting and was like “no one should talk to this dude”.

later I talked to Jeff Aments dad (maybe to try to smooth it over) and he confronted me about some lyrics to my song about having done something difficult to forgive as a child. he was like, “what was that?” and I was like, “uhh shit man it was just a song, it was complicated.” but that was it man Jeff Ament wanted me out so that whole Pearl Jam bridge was burned.

an odd ending to a kind of sweet, semi-unsatisfying, remeniscent dream

I was on one of those ferries they take in upstate new york when they go out boating and golfing. I THINK it exists? Again I was definitely “me”, and was with a group of men I knew not that well but we were friendly and there was camaraderie about learning the ropes of riding the thing. I don’t know the men in real life.

there were famous people on the ferry. I met damon waynes and he did a funny elaborate white person handshake with me when he saw I didn’t really know the black handshake. the old WGA baseball broadcaster (not harey carey the newer guy with the deep voice was there (does he even still live? probably not) (after some googling I think it was actually John Madden or some mix between him and harey carey, I love checking how factual my dream confabulations were)

there were some more kinda medium wealthy guys I was with and talking to. it seemed like we mostly just made the trip up there and back, and it was just to get out in the water in the end. but lots of the people we were with were golf affiliated including a professional golf coach.

I remember him talking in great detail about the business of golf coaching and found its specificity fascinating. he talked about the disadvantages when his main player got injured and how it hurt him more than the player businesswise. he talked about all the equipment and specialized gear he had to obtain for new promising players. then another dude dissed one of his most famous players aloud and I stood up for the player, despite not knowing him because the guy’s diss was kind of a “toxic male culture” diss and I effectively batted the guy’s loud criticism effectively in a way that made the other guys laugh and took my acquaintance off the defensive and I felt proud of that. I was like, “oh yeah, that guy pumped his fist after the stroke, he definitely reads mother earth news”. it was quite a detailed and specific set of complaints he was obviously parroting from a specific sportscaster.

I remember being aware of moderating my drinking and not just allowing myself to drink beer freely but also definitely drinking some beers. a couple of times I noticed (slightly waking up) that drinking the beer in my dream had a similar noticeable central nervous system effect

at the end there’s like a smaller ferry that takes you into the city but if you miss it you have to take the train (again I think this is real and I remember it) and dudes I knew took off without telling me it was the last minute. a guy I was talking to was like oh shit I really needed to make that ferry and I very skillfully ran after it but missed the rope for it by seconds, insuring I’d have to take the train into new york.]

my brain knew I lived in Elgin (as I told people) but didn’t do the math that it was a new york situation (why was I in NY?)

I was left with a sense that it was good and healthy to build and maintain male networks and friendships and I needed that, but that ultimately I wasn’t paying attention and despite an acrobatic performance kinda just barely missed the faster way back home, perhaps left to ride the train and talk to the slower (but it seemed less successful) peer.

I had been planning a wedding (my grandmas?) and I didn’t know how I got there. I was in Butte Rock, Montana I think and it was a beautiful and interesting place. I was so confused. I think at one point I did witness a moment of my grandma’s outdoor wedding.

Early in the dream I was in a cafe and I walked up to this guy and said, “Hey sorry to interrupt, I know this is a little alarming to hear someone ask but where ARE we? Like what town?” and he wasn’t TOO phased and said “Butte Rock, Montana” and I repeated it to make sure.

I was watching this stupid kevin costner show that’s set in montana so that’s probably why montana

I continued to black out and sometimes I seemed to have lucid dreams within the dream, including one where I kept getting annoyed there was this foreign temple but had to admit the way it had a path that went out to the horizon was very picturesque. I walked towards it and I was like, oh, this is the path to death, and chose to walk on it because I was in a lucid dream and it seemed symbolic.

I woke up in several places. Hotels, the street, a business, I had no idea what had happened. I rarely managed to stay conscious for longer than what seemed to be an hour. At first I was more conscious and assumed I would come to. Once I even remember seeing a giant tumbler of whiskey and slugging it down like a shot.

Once I woke up in some kind of flophouse… like a group hotel with a bunch of beds in one room and a bunch of men lounging around talking and laughing. They didn’t look surprised to see me.

I was at a bookstore in a mall at one point and I was trying to tell this couple and see if they could help me get to an ER but the woman spilled a whole giant cup of water on one of those waist high islands with bookshelves all around it and it just got water fucking everywhere on all sides and they got consumed with trying to mop it all up. I tried to help. Then I blacked out again.

I kept thinking I would come to consciousness a little more but instead I got more and more confused and people saw me more and more as a homeless person. I kept blacking out and waking up somewhere else, usually still I think in that Montana town. The city was actually beautiful and interesting and I wandered around several times. I gave up trying to do anything useful or remember any phone numbers. I’d wake up with different phones and different watches and different clothes.

A woman on the street tried to talk to me like she knew me and I could tell she was a junkie. I was worried she’d hurt me in my confused state. I tried to get her to get away from me and she showed me her breasts and they were hollow. I was mean to her and her threat deflated and she said “no one wants to see my boobs.”

I woke up naked at one point and had to hurriedly cobble together clothes from what was on the street.

At one point I didn’t even have clothes and just had a greasy flag wrapped around me.

I went into this dark institutional grade school and asked this little black kid how to get out. He laughed ruefully and said “to prison”.

Towards the end I kept desperately asking people to help me and people would try and distractedly point me to an ER but no one ever got me there. I asked several different people and I would make an attempt to quickly tell my story and get medical attention but no one had time for me.