"I would not like nights so bright you could not see the stars." -- Akira Kurosawa

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I grew up in a family of Southern storytellers. Back in 2004, I started Whole Bean to continue the tradition in a new medium. Over the years, I've written about families and friends, peculiar situations, extended road trips, recalcitrant home appliances, and many things for which I'm truly grateful. I hope you enjoy your time here.
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The dream occurred one night last week. It seems that I was engaged in piloting a small hot air balloon over different parts of the United States, jumping from city to city at will. I recall vividly that the balloon was a small portable craft that could be folded up and transported easily from place to place, even carried in a backpack. The dream sounds odd, indeed, but it was actually quite pleasurable.

On one of my stops, I flew over what was supposed to be Memphis but actually looked more like Atlanta. As with many of my dreams, a sizeable group of friends was on hand, and we all were camped out at a large timberframe lodge somewhere on the outskirts of town. Of course, the group of friends was comprised of people who I know have never met one another, but that made it all the more interesting.

I know from whence this dream stems. I have not traveled much lately, and being for the most part a person who likes being on the road, I think I am feeling a degree of frustration at being in one place for such a long time. Interesting how the mind makes up for what is not happening in real life!