Shed like me

I was having a rare ‘music’ dream last night, musicians and performing and playing. It was all Portland people, Josh and Curt and Pete Miser, but it wasn’t in any place or venue that I know, more California than Oregon somehow. We finished an intense and well-received performance in a small venue and, energized by the music, I went off to practice. I was digging in a pile of books in some room with a piano, and I found a stack of 3 elegant books I hadn’t seen before. They were thin – I often love thin music books – and had glossy white covers and neat, well-executed typography.

The first volume – they were clearly a series – was called “You Want to Shed Like Me.” by some person who probably spent a lot of time shedding. I was eagerly reading the subtitle, “How to…” and then I suddenly woke up because in the real world a chihuahua was sticking wet nose as far into my eye socket as her strange little chihuahua nose would allow.

Now I may never know how to master some thing that someone I don’t know had so carefully documented. Stupid chihuahua. (I still love her though.)