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I'm constantly losing things: my wallet, my phone, my keys. I even lose my eyeglasses so right now I'm wearing an old pair that I found in a junk drawer. I've lost people whom I thought were friends. I've lost romantic love. And I've lost my mind. I've hallucinated. Driving through the pine forest one night, I saw black bears standing on their hind legs as I passed by. Not just two or five. Not just fifteen or twenty. No, I saw dozens of bears lined up roadside like the crowd at a parade. In the old days, after I'd revealed my vision, my tribe would've given me a name like Many Bears. But, now, as I rue & rue my bipolar mania, I'd say that my name is Too Many Bears because I don't want to hallucinate even one bear, let alone dozens. But I do want to know what bears might signify in dreams so I ask Google "What does it mean to dream about bears?" And I find Jungian theories that tell me that I'm those bears— that those bears are representative of my subconscious—of my overt masculinity— of my territorial paternity— and I find theological beliefs that bears are symbols of God—of a female creator—of maternity— of a mama fiercely protecting her cubs—and I find a Freudian who believes that bears are healers inside our dreams. Bears hibernate, says the Freudian, so bears are about spiritual renewal. And I find a cognitive therapist who posits that, in dreams, a bear's meaning depends on the dreamer. So, after my research, I guess that my hallucinated bears were hundreds of fathers, or hundreds of Gods, or hundreds of mothers, or hundreds of priests, or hundreds of wild versions of me. In any case, as I drove out of the rural dark and into the city light, those hallucinated bears dwindled in number until there were no bears at all. I carefully traveled to my hotel, took a shower, and laughed as I wondered if there was a water source that was hot enough to burn my manias and depressions away. Then I called my wife and we gave our good nights. As I lay in bed, I wished there was a cure for what possesses me here and there. I cried a little then fell asleep. I didn't dream about bears.
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Ack! Them guys don't know much. They're probably post-modernists or something. So let me lay it down for you. The modern bear is hip. He is what you call 'progressive regressive'. Think of every bear cartoon you've ever seen. Could you see Yogi doing any of the stuff them other guys said? Heck No, of course not! Yogi slides on in to some camp site. You can swear you hear bongos coming from somewhere. His hat turned down just so. He's got his protege' with him, Booboo Bear. What a name! You just know those two live behind the Java Jive and hang out at the Tacoma Punk House on weekends. Tacoma's punks being especially in love with the Beats back in the day, When Bobby Floyd would weave distorted tunes on the organ while Community College students wrote poems about girls still red with acne. And the Java Jive monkey would scream at the teenagers. Anyhow, Yogi saunters on in to a camp site, goes straight for the pik-a-nik basket and they high tail it out of there! Mr. Ranger only catches them occasionally, not like in the cartoon. They scarf down the goodies and then go visit Cindyloo Bear. Bears are clowns, too. But they'll only be your play pal for so long, then they lose it and try to take your head off. But really, they're all softies inside. That's why there's Teddy Bears. (Now there's another bear for you. Roosevelt. I mean what President was hipper than ol' Teddy?! Well okay maybe JFK, but hey!) They're mean, their tough, but they got a soft side. That's the bear you meet that sits and waves his hands around at you, whether its at the circus or the national park. So, why are they so hip? Coz they seen things!! Geez, you know a person goes missing like every 7 seconds at a National State or Federal Park? And there's reports of lights and Men in Black. And not the Will Smith cool guys. No, the ugly creepy kind, with pasty white skin, no ears, and talk in backwards Salish. Yep, I know I'm going all David Lynch on you. But really, the bears know something. Just ask their Indian Sidekick. There's always an Indian Sidekick. No, really! Come back! I'm not done!
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