July 26, 2020

Dream about K this morning just before waking. I was living in a gigantic, creepy palace where I had some sort of residency. Much of the dream was about wandering around the palace (palatial in size, but creepy and run-down). My assigned bathroom was really remote and down many flights of stairs, and when I finally found it, I turned around and saw K on a ladder in a sort of alcove, sorting gorgeous, gigantic Christmas tree ornaments. The walls and floors were covered with them, all sorted by color, red and purple and blue, but mostly gold. I surmised that he was famous for his Christmas trees, and remarked, "You must have one whole tree just for the golden ornaments."
"Yes," he said, very sadly. "One just for gold. People said you could see the golden one flashing all the way to Weaverville." It was winter and I assumed he was taking them out, but he said "No, putting them away, putting them all away," and from the ladder delivered this long, Shakespearean soliloquy on putting the Christmas ornaments away.

Checking the spelling of Phillips Exeter (two ll’s) I ran across articles saying that Rick Schubart and George Mangan, whom I knew, were charged with sexual misconduct there. Learned that Lane Bateman, big news for a while, is dead. I keep forgetting that people who were my elders, even slightly, as I grew up are likely to be dead. Lane lent me his apartment in his absence, and recommended videos that he kept under his floor. I never looked at them. Those were the ones that sent him to Federal prison.