When I get to the dining room, I open the doors and check with the waiters to make sure everything is ready for the casting off and the gala dinner party. There is an orchestra playing. Everything is beautiful—gold-plated silverware, crystal glassware for wine and water, crisp linen napkins and gilded decorations. The tables with long white tablecloths are placed in a semicircle around the dance floor.

I open the doors to let in the passengers. I know just where everyone is supposed to sit and I direct them with a wave of my hand, as a conductor might conduct an orchestra. My mom and dad are at a table with their friends, my children and husband are at another table, and my friends from the counseling center are at another. The waiters bustle about getting orders and serving the salad course.

The Captain enters. From across the room I can't make out his features, but his uniform is a navy blue blazer with gold buttons, white wool pants and a yachting cap with gold "scrambled eggs" on it. He gestures for me to come over. As I come closer, I realize that the Captain is Linden Nelson, a colleague in the psychology department. He is wearing a moustache and full side-burns, starting to gray a little (in other words, in the dream Linden is a little older than he is in reality). My feeling is—Here is a man of distinction. He tells me that we have a little problem. In the excitement of the moment, the waiters have forgotten to put out salt, pepper and other condiments. He asks me if I will go around to each table with salt, pepper, tabasco, etc. I readily and gladly agree.

He hands me a gold-colored tray of intricate workmanship, with a tree carved in relief upon it. I reach over to the back part of the ebony grand piano to get two beautiful salt and pepper shakers and the other spices. The salt and pepper shakers are like conventional restaurant shakers, glass with silver tops, but they are larger—about 9 inches high—and of cut crystal. They sparkle! The tabasco sauce is also in a larger container, again, beautifully designed. In addition, there are little salt cellars with tiny spoons holding herbs and spices.

I go from table to table sprinkling salt and pepper and other "stuff" on the food. My conversation is brilliant and witty; I am totally pleased with myself. When asked where we are going, I reply that it doesn't matter, because with Linden Nelson as our Captain, we are in safe hands and would follow a "fun" course. This reassures all who ask me about where we are going.