Taking photos, my dad acting crazy

I'm at my junior high taking pictures. There is a flock of sheep and herd of pigs spilling over a giant staircase making fascinating, undulating patterns. Police are arresting members of some religious group all dressed in crimson. There is a glitter-covered dome and an interesting stain on carpet. I'm taking pictures of all of this.

I'm walking in the auditorium and there is a jazz band practicing behind the drawn curtain. I take some pictures from the side of the curtain while the band hams it up for the camera. They want to see the photos and when I show them, I realize I've had the camera on a setting that takes a series of movies and overlays them over one another, exaggerating colors and objects and adds a soundtrack. At first, I'm disappointed but the movie is really cool.

I'm walking behind the school with my parents. We walk by kids playing some kind of soccer behind the bleachers. The field side of the bleachers is now a large body of water, everything is run down and dilapidated. A precarious walkway has been constructed to get over the encroaching water; my dad and I are explaining it to my mom. We cone upon a giant out of commission ship that's been used as part of the walkway.

Suddenly, the dream shifts and we're watching a guided historical fiction tour. I'm still getting pictures of everything. The narrator is explaining that the ship was made "before electricity stopped working" and was powered by "non-magnetic coal." Apparently magnetic coal is the main source of energy these days.

The tour/play is over and we're driving with several of my parents friends back to a hotel. We're on vacation. My dad intentionally runs a red light and we pass a patrol car which my dad derisively mocks. He's driving really fast and pulls into a parking lot saying we're going to all get some drinks. He's acting like an out of control teen. The car crashes into a snowbank and disintegrates, leaving all the passengers unconscious and flattened into the snow. I wake them all up by touching them. I calculate whether I'll have to take extra days off work because of the crash.

My dad is confused and still out of control, walking very fast toward an outdoor bar. "We're going to get some drinks!" I suggest we split a beer while trying to get him under control. I'm asking him if he remembers we just saw a play. I'm trying to think of how to tell him his driving days are over and decide to just say he can't drive for a while. I get across to him that he's been acting crazy and he is full of sorrow.

He's calmed down and we're both crying. I tell him that a photo I took over summer vacation won third place and that since, I've sold one for $4,000. I tell him I'll be able to go to college on a full scholarship anywhere I want and he should be happy because that's what he's been doing for the last 20 or 40 years, raising me.