Author: David Diego Rodríguez, Ph.D.

I teach Spanish and I am a standup comedian.

Dreams: A history


Matehuala, México

I have been dreaming for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, I don’t always remember my dreams. Immediately upon waking up, I feel a little confused as to which is the real world, and which is the dream world. In moments like these, the dream world seems more real than the real world that I had pleasurably avoided while sleeping. As a boy, I used to dream about eating candy or Twinkies. In my dreams, I had every toy I ever wanted. My favorite toy in the first grade was G.I. Joe, but I didn’t have one. Some of my friends had G.I. Joes, so I would play with them at their house. So, at night, I would end up dreaming that I was playing with my very own G.I. Joe. I remember one dream where I realized that I was about to wake up, but I wanted to take G.I. Joe with me to my waking world so I could play him after school, or whenever I felt like. In my dream, I consciously placed G.I. Joe under my bed before I woke up. I kept reminding myself, while I was dreaming, that when I woke up, I would finally have my own G.I. Joe. I really believed I could do it. But, alas, I woke up and I soon as I remembered what I had done in my dream, I looked under my bed. But G.I. Joe was gone. AWOL! I tried it a few more times–unsuccessfully!

Of course, I’ve also had some scary dreams. They seem to have different themes depending on my age. From Kindergarten through about the fourth grade, I used to have dreams about running, but not really getting anywhere. Usually, I was being chased by someone from the neighborhood who wanted to beat me up, the Werewolf, Dracula, or some other creature from a horror movie. I always woke up before I was ever caught. I would also dream that I was walking to school, and I would be about halfway there, when suddenly, I would realize that I was completely naked. How could this happen in the first place? I’m sure I would notice when I left the house that I had forgotten to put on my clothes. Especially if it was snowing as it did in some of these dreams.

My favorite dreams from that era when I was about ten or eleven involved some of my female classmates. I dreamed the most about a mexicana named Yolanda Gonzalez. I never even thought about Yolanda once while I was awake. I didn’t sit by her, and I never went out of my way to talk to her. Then, one night, she walked into my dreams. She was interested in me romantically. Why didn’t I ever see her in that light before? In my dream, I called her, “Querida” just like Gomez called Morticia in The Addams Family. When I woke up, I realized that Yolanda did resemble Morticia somewhat. They both had long black hair and large, beautiful eyes. The next time I saw Yolanda, I was absolutely sure that she loved me! She had told me so in my dreams. I sought her out. We would talk when we “accidentally” bump into each other in the playground during lunch. Well, maybe it wasn’t true love, but she did take at least a liking to me because I was paying so much attention to her. After Yolanda was no longer in my life and dreams, I dreamed about other girls whom I never even had considered in my conscious world. I even dated one of the girls of my dreams.

As I grow older and wiser, I now dream about sleeping in late and realizing that I should be at UIC teaching my Spanish class! Sometimes I dream that I teach two classes and then go home. Suddenly, I realize that I left UIC before I taught my third and last class. But by the time I realize this, it’s too late to go back to teach it. Who knows what I’ll dream of when I reach my next stage!

DDR

Reading


 

Reading on a camping trip in Wisconsin

Reading has been my lifelong passion. I have always loved reading! Even when I went camping with my friend Jim, I took books along. He took this picture of me reading while I was so engrossed in reading. 

I loved the first grade when we started reading. At that level, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know English. Our homework involved reading to our parents at home. My mother thought that was too much trouble for her after a long day’s work, so I would read to my abuelita. Unfortunately, not only did she not speak English, but she was also blind. But she loved it when I read to her. And I was grateful to have someone to listen to me read. 

When I was a little older, I used to go to the library to read. I mostly read joke and riddle books, but that still counts as reading in my book. In the seventh grade, Divine Heart Seminary let me check out books from their library via the USPS. I only remember two of the books that I read. One book was about Father Damien who was a missionary on a leper island in Hawaii. And the other one was Fighting Father Duffy who was a U.S. Army chaplain during World War II. Now why would the seminary only send me books about priests? I’ve always wondered about that. Not!

I like reading at the library because I had more privacy. If mother saw me reading comic books or even books, she would criticize me for being lazy. When I finally bought my first car, I would drive to Marquette Park just to read in my car. When I would come home, my mother would ask me what I did. When I told her I went to the park to read, her blood would boil. Then she would tell me about other constructive things I could have been doing around the house. 

In general, the uneducated masses don’t understand why anyone would want to read a book. When I worked in the peanut butter factory, I always carried a paperback in my back pocket. Whenever the production line stopped or I was on break or lunch, I would pull out my book and start reading, even if I had to stand. No matter who my boss was, he would come by and tell me to pick up a broom and start cleaning up my area. No one at the factory really understood why I liked reading so much. 

Ironically, the books I chose to read were the books that I refused to read in high school. In high school, I spent most of my time reading chess books. For two years my life revolved around chess.  But once the assigned books weren’t required reading, they piqued my curiosity. Why were they required reading in the first place? So, one by one, I read all the books I once rebelled against. Suddenly, I felt a certain sense of fulfillment. 

In the Marines, I bought the Great Books set and I would read them every free moment. My fellow Marines thought I was a bit crazy, but that’s why no one started any trouble with me. That and I told everyone I knew kung fu. No one wanted to risk starting trouble with me. 

DDR

Hoy


Hoy, martes, 16 de enero 2010

Well, I must admit that I am a news junkie. I try to keep up with most current events, but with my busy schedule, sometimes it’s difficult. I used to keep up with the news when I was a newspaper delivery boy, and I would read the newspapers as I delivered them. Then I stopped following the news in the 1980s when I returned to Chicago from the Marines. That is, until one day, I went grocery shopping and I tried to buy a gallon of milk, but the grocery store refrigerators were empty. Apparently, there was a salmonella outbreak that contaminated bottled milk and I didn’t know about it because I didn’t keep up with the local news. Many people became sick from the salmonella because the grocery stores kept stocking the milk and people who didn’t watch or listen to the news didn’t know about the salmonella outbreak and bought the milk anyway. Well, that really scared me into keeping up with the news. I didn’t want to die needlessly if watching the news could perhaps save my life. Not that I ever feared death, but why die stupidly?

However, when I watch the news now, I always think that everything will affect me personally. If I see or read a news story, I think it will affect someone I know in that area. So, while I watched the news about the fire at 3034 S. 48th Court in Cicero, Illinois, I immediately thought about my aunt Concepción Rodríguez Molina and her son Peter Molina, my cousin. Normally, news stories do not involve anyone I know. But this time was different. My aunt and cousin lived next door to the house that started on fire and killed seven people. She smelled smoke and so they both ran out of their house grabbing only a laptop. They are lucky to be alive! The village of Cicero temporarily put them up in a motel, but they’ll have to find a new place very, very soon. I will help them out in any way I can. But I still can’t believe this happened to someone I knew!

DDR

2010 Chicago Auto Show


2010 Chicago Auto Show

What a better way to celebrate Presidents’ Day than by going to the 2010 Chicago Auto Show. I still can’t get used to the new McCormick Place, but it sure is nice and big. My sons loved looking at all the sports cars and so did I, but I no longer fantasized about owning one. When I was a teenager, I couldn’t decide which expensive sports car to drive. A Ferrari? A Maserati? You get the idea.

Now, I’m happy with my 2005 Pontiac Vibe, but I am concerned that GM decided to close the Pontiac division. I know that other GM dealers will service my car and that parts will be available through them, but what about showing a little loyalty to the customers who were loyal to Pontiac all these years? I’ve driven Pontiacs most of my driving life. Oh, well. I should have seen that one coming  since my Pontiac Vibe is, in reality, a Toyota Matrix anyway.

Anyway, my sons enjoyed the bright colors and bright lights of all the displays. They also enjoyed the Chicago Blackhawks shoot-out. And they got plenty of Blackhawks posters. They also got an autographed picture of Ben Eager. There were cutout figures of Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane that looked lifelike when you took their picture. In the picture, it’s very difficult to tell that they’re made of cardboard. Now that I look at the pictures again, my sons look like they’re made of cardboard and Kane and Toews look more lifelike than my sons!

DDR

From your Valentine


The rose also has thorns.

 Happy Valentine’s Day! See, I didn’t forget about Valentine’s Day. A man is never allowed to forget Valentine’s Day. We get so many reminders in oh so many little ways, beginning in childhood with our mothers. This morning, I saw this reminder in my inbox from Encyclopedia Britannica:

Today is Valentine’s Day, the feast day of St. Valentine, a priest and physician who was martyred about AD 270 in Rome, and the tradition of exchanging greetings of love on Valentine’s Day is based on the legend that Valentine had signed a letter to his jailer’s daughter, with whom he had fallen in love, “from your Valentine.”

I’m sure that the author/poster of this almanac entry was a woman sending every man a not so subliminal reminder. Any man in a relationship who forgets Valentine’s Day is in big trouble. Especially after all the constant reminders. But how does a holiday like Valentine’s Day begin in the first place? This holiday is based on an old legend that has somehow miraculously survived to this day to cause a lot of angst among men in relationships. How? Well, you can thank Hallmark for that! They needed another holiday for people to buy cards. ¡Voila! Hallmark resurrects St. Valentine! That’s capitalism at work rearing its ugly head. And then the florists, jewelers, and the confectionaries got in on the action, too.

But it’s not just about making money. It’s also about expressing love. And what better way to do it than with jewelry, flowers, chocolate, and Hallmark Valentine’s Day cards? Most men dread Valentine’s Day, so I wonder what happens in a relationship between two men. Do they both forget about Valentine’s Day and each one hopes that his partner doesn’t bring it up? And what about two women in a relationship? Do they both go overboard buying each other gifts?

Happy Valentine’s Day!

DDR