Some type of high school reunion, near a large outdoor tent on a suburban street. Some of the jocks start throwing around a football. A long pass comes to me, I catch it, run to an imaginary end zone and spike it. Proud of myself, decide to quit while I'm ahead. Ball goes near me again but I pretend not to notice as I walk away.
Some concept has come up, like someone's last words or thoughts were "What's that noise?" This leads me to some humorous conclusions, that possibly everyone experiences that at death. I make a joke to the people I'm discussing this with, that "yeah, even Jimi Hendrix, in the weeks just before his sudden demise, was working on a record called 'What's That Not-So-Groovy Sound?' In my mind at first I thought, just 'Groovy', but then remembering it was an omen of death, decided on 'Not-So-Groovy', 'groovy' being a cheap sort of imaginary Hendrix vernacular. In the dream I find this record idea so funny that I wake up laughing hard with tears rolling down my face.
