Beep Beep

 

    Farmer, Thomas Moore, and psychologist Wihelm Wundt were strangers.  They didn’t live in the same village, or even during the same decade.   The farmer discovered he could shape water into little squares and stop all of the molecules from moving, thus making the first ice cube.

        Meanwhile, across town and years later, Wihelm spent his time looking inward.  He was studying the mind.  He was questioning the world of thought, rational thinking and dreams.

        This brings us to last night.  For as long as we’ve owned it, our refrigerator has made ice cubes.  It does so very loudly.  It is as if each cube is falling from a great height, into an echo chamber constructed of reverberating plastic, with its volume control stuck on 10.  No matter where you are in the house, when this handy device drops its load of ice, it can be heard everywhere.

        What Wihelm discovered was that during the average dream cycle, the sound of falling ice cubes will automatically integrate with whatever it is going on in your dream, which is why the neighbor’s baby in my dream last night, while playing with a bag of hammers, dropped them onto my flatscreen TV, smashing it to bits and allowing the roadrunner to get away in the nick of time.

 

 

Just thought you should know why I woke up screaming.