It often happens that someone hands you your keys when you think you are being handed your hat, but it usually has to happen a few times Moore for you to really notice, especially if you didn’t know you’d lost them….

It happened one day several years ago, when during a reconnaissance drill, our company went to the ocean. We packed our shit into our emerald green Rabbit, and headed to Harderwijk, to enjoy the company of our cetacean friends. I was still preoccupied with my weird experiences in the hospital, but did remember I had to fill her up, so I pulled over under the bridge and stuck the gun in her. My eyes saw, but my brain never registered, that it wasn’t the usual black handle I held onto as she gobbled it all down, but a much lighter green one…

We paid and took off, my wife in the pilot seat and the kids riding shotgun. Back then the dawgs were nowhere to be found, so all was peachy. We had a good time getting to the highway, with the airco breathing heavy because of the very diligent Summer Sun. But not all was without effect, because without my knowledge, the Diesel that used to be my Life’s blood was being watered down by ordinary gas. As I stepped on the to adapt to the flow of the Highway, the engine died. It looked like our intelligent friends would have to wait for us a bit longer, not being reachable by phone. But since thiswas a  surprise visit, we thought they’d never notice.

The Autoclub did deliver at your particular hole in the road, so we sat there waiting for the guy in the searing sun. Even though the kids were anxious to get a move on, my lovely lady kept them busy with riddles and toys. At least they were safe from harm behind the rail. I sat on it, behind my other mistress: an emerald green Volkswagen Rabbit who faithfully accompanied me to work every day. We were buddies, but my lady didn’t seem to mind, since was always guaranteed that way. She herself didn’t drive, but was curious. By now, after I left, she’s acquired a taste for driving, and the permit to put it on automatic.

Yellow and blue, the ANWB van pulled up in front of me. It’s and driver came up to me, and never inquired as to the Nature of the Problem. As I explained it  on the communications pole along the highway, he’d taken the precaution to equip himself with one of the larger vehicles, that had a tank to disperse of my spoiled and spent fuel mixture. We chatted as the pump sucked my baby dry, so the could give her a bit of fresh, clean diesel. Waving at him as he left, we were grateful for yet another great rescue, and continued to the next to have her filled up properly. This time my mind was clear: she’d never have to suffer on my account again, so I paid extra attention, and slid the black gun down her throat.

We arrived at Harderwijk in a very sunny mood, which was enhanced by forceful solar flames from above. Taking our bags out of the car, Linda asked me something, and briefly took my attention away. As we walked away, nothing was amiss, except my attention to detail. But then again, I’ve always been a sucker for far larger concepts. We had a great afternoon, which unfortunately is irrelevant to the essence of this story. Therefor I shall represent that fact with a 1000 words, diligently stolen back from the sponsor we fed our cash back then….

And as I was creating these thousand words, an odd thing happened. I didn’t run into any real trouble, but again was hit with the same sane advice, to stop putting subliminal messages in the images. You probably noticed it done on the Green Mean Loving Machine above, but apart from cutting, pasting, sizing and selecting raw materials, nothing was done to this one because of this: I work with an old version of Paint Shop Pro, which doesn’t have the option to put a text in there as a selection, at least not in the easy way. There is a workaround though, in that any text put in there is automatically selected, so you can save the selection, discard the text, and then reload the selection. Apply brightness and contrast, and voila, a watermark. But apparently the Dolphins are listening, and even on the first image warned me by tagging the saved selection with a padlock. I normally check locks before deciding to step through them, and did so on the firs image. But being Mr. Second Time Right,  I caught it in the nick of time and rescued myself from a double faul.

 

Finally having found my footing in the sea of Subliminality, I won’t be making that mistake again. And yes, I did notice the half sentence Freudian Slips in my writing. And I realize that’s just plain screaming for attention. I’ll get it down soon enough, as I sink my teeth into Eternity again. But I digress: After the Dolphins, I took my family back to the Rabbit, waiting on the green nearby. As we approached, I noticed a little bit of white under the windshield wiper. As I read it, I realized that we are being looked after, even if we don’t know by whom: "I saw your key sticking out of the  lock as I parked my own car. To make sure they will be returned to you properly, I took them to local police. Best Regards…."

It took me half an hours walk, because the car was still logically unapproachable. But at the police office, I also never saw anyone until I’d properly identified myself as the owner of the keys in question. The in charge had me describe it down to the last detail, and wouldn’t let up until I mentioned the dog tag that ws attached to it. My key in hand, I walked back to the Dolfinarium, and Drove my ladies home…..

Suffice to say, the true insight into this event was only realized as I started typing this story. But my subconscious knew All Along!

Love your Life, it becomes more real by the second….

Dre’