------------------------------------------------------------
       Technology/Dreams, (sdf.org), 11/02/2018
------------------------------------------------------------
From time to time I complain about the fact that the vast 
majority of my dreams are set on planet Earth. Mostly I 
complain to my wife, who will listen to such nonsense, but I 
may have mentioned it elsewhere as well. I can almost always 
recall my dreams the morning after I have them, and some 
dreams I can recall as if they were memories, years later. 
They're more than usually set on Earth.

Last night was different: I had a dream that took place in 
space. Specifically, I was piloting a ship. It would have 
been nice if the dream took place on the surface of some 
other planet, but now I'm getting demanding; at least it was 
off Earth.

In my dream, me and another fellow (not sure who) were 
traveling around, when he decided that he no longer wanted 
to do whatever it was that we were doing. What he really 
wanted was to be a farmer. Ok, that's just fine, I wanted to 
be supportive. So, I flew us to a planet (was it Earth? I 
don't know) with some greenery, where I knew that there was 
a farm that was looking for hired hands. I recall how 
pleasant it was, after so long, to be cutting through the  
thick atmosphere of a green planet, powerful thrusters 
struggling against the gravity. With tremendous force my 
ship plowed it's way through the dense air, until we spotted 
the farm. I brought the ship down for as gentle a landing as 
possible.

We both deplaned (what a stupid word) and hiked from where 
we had landed, through some large gates that were the 
entrace for the farm, and toward the house. A farmer met us 
half-way between the gates and the house, and listened to my 
friend's proposition. A space jockey turned farmer was a 
normal enough thing, apparently, and he hired him on the 
spot. We were just chewing the fat, my mind wandering to 
where I would go next, when a look of terror washed over the 
farmer's face. I turned around and saw a massive, rapidly 
swirling tornado in the distance.

(I hate tornado dreams. For some reason I've always had 
them, even before I moved to the midwest. I'm not really 
afraid-I think-of tornadoes when I'm awake; that is, I 
don't have an irrational, consuming fear of them. I would 
respect one if I saw one, but they don't occupy my thoughts. 
I've even had fire tornadoes in my dreams.)

The farmer led us (half the time I spell that "lead." 
Lead, lead, read, read, red, bead, bed... Darn you, English) 
to his house. Upon entering it, I realize that it was a 
mobile home of the tin-can variety, and I became alarmed. 
Would this thing protect us? I voiced my concern, but there 
was no where better to go. I searched for some central 
location with a stronger wall structure. In my mind I was 
thinking, "what if my ship gets damaged? I'll have to become 
a farm hand too, until I can pay for repairs. I guess that 
wouldn't be too bad."

And then I woke up. Tornado dreams always tend to wake me 
up. They make me very uncomfortable. Stupid thing, now I 
don't know how the dream ends. Did the dream tfurrows make 
it off-planet? Maybe the tornado blew a different direction. 
Or, was his ship damaged extensively, forcing him into a 
life of farm work with his friend? That might not be so bad, 
at least he wouldn't be alone. Maybe he felt bad about 
leaving his friend there anyway. Perhaps his friend would 
tire of the life and pine for space once again. They could 
save up together, and make their way back twice as fast. 
Would anyone in the galaxy miss him while he was plowing and 
picking and sweating? What if the planet was in a binary 
star system? Were tornadoes common there?

Oh well, at least I can file this dream away as a rare 
voyage outside of my own planet. Hopefully I'll have more, 
sans tornadoes.