Last night I had a dream about all the people I knew as a kid who had fountains in their yards. I went around town interviewing them about their fountains, where they came from, why this particular fountain, etc. The shining star of the fountains was the Deinken family. They had been close neighbors of ours when we lived in the Wildwood subdivision until they moved over behind the Melody movie theater and we moved over near the mall. The Deinken's fountain was the most modern of all the fountains, all white, clean, straight lines. A '60s mod fountain, if you will. The water didn't squirt out of a koi fish's mouth or cherub's penis, it just came out, one stream after another, from round holes, along a rectangular box. The person I interviewed was the fifth grade version of Andy Deinken, who was in most of my classes K-12. He was a bit proud of his fountain as though it were a fine work of art. He had this really zen theory about each stream of water steadily replacing the next until the end of time. I think the reason I dreamt of him as his fifth grade self was because that is when he and I shared a brief romance where he might have unintentionally sat next to me at a school assembly.

20 May 2005 - 3:41 PM

previous * next