Good morning, all! I went to bed early last night, because my mind insisted I was tired even if my body refused to give up the ghost. And speaking of ghosts, another dream about the ghostly activities in the house where I grew up. I dreamed I was scoring a medley from THE ARCADIANS! (why?) working on a card table late at night in my Mother's kitchen, fighting with two pencils, my siamese cat, and the damned ghost which kept throwing open the door leading to the basement, which was quite a haunted area of the house, along with the footsteps in the attic. I don't recall much of the dream now, just an increasing fear that at some point I'd have to confront whatever was walking up the basement stairs and throwing open the door. I went to securely fasten the door, and woke up in a state of terror. I had to turn on the lights for a few minutes. You'd think after forty years that house wouldn't frighten me.
Cinerama, The Seven Wonders of the World, waqs the first roadshow film. My Father had a friend in the construction business who lived in Cincinnati, so my brother Tom, my parents, and I met my Father's friend and his wife, who taught school, for dinner, and we all went to see the film. I remember nothing about the film but the roller coaster and that I loved it.
