I received a phone call and this man with a very jolly, selfish sort of voice started talking to me and I didn't catch his name. I didn't recognize him at first, and he started telling me the rules of using the cabin, and something about how he left his credit cards in some town in Arizona or something to that effect. And finally I gold him to slow down a minute. I was trying to figure out who he was and wasn't he Mr. Peel. And he said, that's right, he was. And it seems that the Peels were friends of my wife's parents, and we were going to use their cabin down at the beach or someplace like that for a week or so. He was telling me about the rules for using it. So I finished talking to him and told my wife about the phone conversation. I think we were in our living room at home, but I'm not sure about that setting. Then I think there was some intervening action I don't recall. And then we were driving down to the cabin, and before we got to the cabin, we stopped at this automobile repair place - apparently the place where I bought our car, so I suppose that would put it in my wife's hometown - to get something checked, and they checked it and we drove back hill into this gravely parking lot, and I noticed that I had trouble stopping the car. The brakes didn't seem to work too well because, even with the brakes pressed on hard and the car in gear with the engine off and the parking brake on, it would still roll very slowly down hills and I had to keep making turns in order to keep from building up too much speed. On one of these, I just barely bumped into the fender of a little VW and caused a slight dent in it. Some day residue at this point which is quite appropriate. After visiting some friends last night, as I backed out of their drive, I hit a little metal rod that had a reflector on it and also last night I was worried whether my brake lights were working or not. Well, back to the dream. I took the car back into the shop and told them about my brakes and thought they'd better do something about them. And I recalled from when I bought the car that the brake linings need replacing not too soon or not too great a time from now. While my wife and I were waiting for the car to be fixed, some sort of incident occurred in which I found a cat or a whole bunch of cats, I'm not sure which, and was as if I had some sort of mysterious power over cats. But anyway, there was this one cat here that was friendly to me. Some day residue here. We were impressed by a black cat at these people we visited last night. Anyway, we kind of walked around waiting for the people who worked on the car, and we were on a street near the garage, and a woman went by who we almost -- well, we thought she was an elderly woman who is a friend of ours, a Mrs. C., but she just hurried by carrying stacks of envelopes in her arms. Then we were standing in front of the movie theater, and I, a couple of teenage boys and a girl who looked like hoods or juvenile delinquents, were on the streets, so we went into the lobby of the theater to avoid them, but they came in after us and were going to try to rob us. But I fought with them and managed to hit them and drive them off. Then somehow we had gotten our car back and were driving out of town. It seems as if we were in Poland or Checks. or some Iron Curtain country and we had to go thru customs. And also secretly, I was the Phantom, the comic strip character, and I was actually smuggling out all sorts of things. And this border guard gave us a very hard time. We were stopped on this bridge where the border inspection post was and the signs clearly pointed that this was the way out, the border guard pointed to a sign that said "Trucks only thru this bridge," and I was arguing with him that he was just being obstreperous, ignoring all the other signs that we should go this way, and I knew that he was just acting on orders to delay us. And then I called another guard over and got him in the argument and was working on getting out that way.