Kane Kaiman is a graduate of Cedarburg High School. There, he scored a 5 on his AP Psychology test, giving him the authority to interpret the dreams of all humans and some of the earth’s more intelligent mammals. Kaiman was raised by bears in the Alaskan wilderness, hibernating in the family cave each winter and dreaming continuously for months on end.
UW-Madison Student Body,
Last week, I was carefully attaching electrodes to the forehead of a snoring rhesus monkey when my cellphone went off. I’ve worked with primates for years, and nothing pisses them off more than being disturbed in the middle of a dream. I cursed myself for not setting my phone to ‘vibrate’ and braced myself for what was coming. Jared, my test monkey, woke up screaming, sprung off of the observation table and latched himself onto my lab assistant’s face. The experiment was ruined. I went into the next room and answered the phone, leaving Jared and my assistant behind to duke it out. Andy Holsteen was on the other end of the line, and he sounded pretty smug.
“Kaiman, it’s Holsteen. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m running the page now. I’m calling it Almanac. And if you want in on this, you’re going to have to cut the bullshit and give me some quality work, old man.”
He wasn’t finished.
“And you’re taking another pay-cut. I also want to limit your office hours... Hell, I don’t want to see you in the office at all. Submit your work via email from here on out.”
What could I say? Money doesn’t grow on trees, and test monkeys don’t feed themselves. And of course I was going to have to cover my lab assistant’s hospital bill. Monkey bites are messy and typically become infected. Another disfigured lab assistant...
So, I agreed to Holsteen’s terms completely. Page Two. Almanac. What’s the difference? And let him insult me all he wants. He’s a young man. His career is just taking off. He’ll be a broken down has-been someday, too. And some new hotshot will be there to rub salt into the wound. That’s how this business works.
At the end of the day, not everyone survived the Page Two Almanac transition. But I did. Looks like I’ll be interpreting dreams professionally for at least a few more months. After that... who knows? Nobody is going to hire an antique like me, one of the last of the old dream interpreters. Maybe I’ll hit the big time again if I can figure out how to interpret Jared’s dreams. But the chances of that are slim with my dwindling resources. I’m just going to enjoy my remaining days at The Daily Cardinal and, hopefully, go out with a little dignity.
For now, do an old man a favor and email me a detailed description of your dream so I can crank out an interpretation and put bread on the table for Jared and I.
Thank You,
Kane Kaiman
