I was walking around Venice, California, with my wife, she was making notes about what people had done with their houses, getting ideas. The houses were garish, wild designs and lurid colors. On bright blue, Gaudi style house had a small swimming pool built into the parking spot at the curb, complete with small palm trees.
I went to the corner to smoke a cigarette, there was a big street with an elevated subway, my favorite oxymoron. I overheard a long conversation between a lawyer and his client, it was a divorce. The lawyer was played by Gene Hackman. He was explaining what he would get her, and how they would win, with references to decisions and cases with made-up names, like the “Tse-Tse decision,” as in tse-tse flies.
Her prospective next husband returned carrying a CPR infant, the lawyer had sent him off to carry it around for an hour to see if he was ready to have children. He was exhausted and had doubts.
As the conversation ended, the client’s brother announced that he and the lawyer’s (male) clerk had already closed the deal. They embraced and kissed with abandon, then they climbed to the top of a nice, antique cabinet, pushed off the chachkas and buried the hatchet.
Dreaming is another of my favorite things.