I dreamed I met Al Caiola
I dreamt I was mysteriously transported to a small old-fashioned seeming town. I was suddenly standing outside a diner. There was a house next door and the mail slot said Al Caiola. It was a gift shop and I went in. Al was there looking young and spry. Nothing like his picture. More like a young Vincent Price. I told him I had his old 8-tracks. He told me he didn't want to be associated with them any more and not to link to his website! Then I looked at all the gifty things. Hand-knit hats and mittens and slippers. I think I bought a hat. It was somewhere in Virginia. The store had a new-age-y feel as if he wrote that new age music now. It was cool to meet him even though he was mean.