Theme Park America

The last two weeks have taken me from Mexico, to Tennessee and The Ranch, then on to Jacksonville, Fla. my old home town where I met up with my beautiful wife and our daughters, then down to Orlando and theme Park Landia, back to Jacksonville, and finally the long flight from the east coast of the U.S. to the west coast of Mexico. 

While we were in Orlando I had a most interesting dream...Dream Time U.S.A. Standing on a street corner in a typical American town looking around at all the busy people...everything seemed so familiar. Fast pace, overweight, staring straight ahead, the people moved like they were on a conveyor belt. When I looked down I could see that they all appeared to have their own unique path, but underneath the level they perceived themselves on, there was a greater escalator that allowed a perception of individuality, and that perception was an illusion. 

In my dream there was a hummm that resonated through the reality of Dream Time America. I could not hear it as much as I could feel the vibration. When I would put my attention on the vibration the entire visual of the world around me would begin to distort, like having interference on your television screen. A couple times I would make eye contact with someone and just as I would ask them a question or simply say “Hi,” they'd look away and redirect their attention to the dream or life they were living in. 

I say “living in” because by now I was completely aware that each individual was living a reality unique to them, while at the same time believing that everyone was seeing and feeling the same way they did. My being in their reality was a disturbance to how their attention was locked into their bubble of reality. Talking to me would open the door for them to see through the illusion of where and how they had defined their world. 

From down the street I saw a bus coming. It rolled to a stop and a few people got off appearing to be more awake than those walking through the dream world. I watched as they looked around making small talk. A larger group got on the bus, as the door closed and the bus pulled into traffic I saw a sign that read “THEME PARK AMERICA.” 

Wow, Dude. Turning back to the people who'd just gotten off the bus I realized they were from another country. Their language wasn't familiar. This was a trip. When these not Americans began to walk down the street it was clear to me that they were not connected to the conveyor system that the locals were on. Their bubble of reality was a different frequency from the vibration that I had been feeling. Looking up there was a great neon sign that flashed “Theme Park America Now Serving Over 300 Million customers.” 

Then I woke up...What's all that mean? You tell me...how’s your conveyor running these days...Do you hear a hummmm just beyond your ears’ ability to define it? I can't get that picture of our culture as a giant theme park out of my mind. In many ways it seems to fit better than the official version...Gotta go, my Bus is coming...