I admit it, I have been lost in space. I have been under the weather, dialing for the invidious dollar, hiding in the cloak of my own fearful imagination, waiting for the other shoe to drop, worrying about phantoms, ghosts, shadows sliding across the wall, ex-wives, a couple of my five children who stopped speaking to me, preparing myself every morning to sit down and write, my new book for one thing, even took to reading my old books just to see whether or not I have actually written anything I could claim my stake on, believe me. I have been through Christmas, the first Christmas tree I have ever had, with my new Puerto Rican family by my side, I have been through New Year, New Year night and New Year day, and, depending upon when I think about it they both have their faults, and neither eases the pain of the other. I have been getting ready just like you have, for what, I have no idea, but here I am nonetheless to begin the year 2007 anew and to tell you a few new stories I haven’t yet shared with anyone.

Like the one about the midget who said to his fellow passenger, are you going the same place I am?

Or the one about the rabbi, the priest and the midget, who said to the rabbi, and the priest, are you going the same place I am? And the rabbi answered, are you Jewish? And the priest answered, if you are, I doubt it. And the midget said, I don’t see what difference that makes.

Or the one about…

Oh, forget it. This is the beginning of a new year, 2000 and 7, and I already have the cold I should have had last year, but which came to me just as I realized I was preparing to move from my wonderful home in Petaluma, California with all the oaks and the ponds and the fields and the birds and the deer and the quail and the crows and the red-tailed hawks, and the clouds and the waterfall that runs around the clock at my front door…to Carlsbad, California where I am almost, just barely, moved in. Check the aforementioned scenery at the door, because we’re now into the land of palms and blue ocean and gado gado and whatever else is going on down here…the plants are a different kind of green and the fragrance is softer and the cars are moving in every direction, but, thank god, very few can be heard from the jungle tropical in my back yard.

So, from this new and junglelating clime I expect to launch The Dreaming Room in earnest. First of all, in case you haven’t heard, from the lofty heights of SBTV.com, where my Dreaming Room TV Show will emanate from beginning on its maiden day launch on January 22nd, and every other week from then on, or until I wear out my welcome. Plug in, sign on, come visit, to see and to hear and to mostly FEEEEEL the stuff of The Dreaming Room roll itself out as I engage with a few of my Intentional Dreamers to do the dance of the imaginers, as our old friend Walt was wont to say, to get a direct experience of what this Dreaming Room bit is all about.

And, did you know or notice that The E-Myth Revisited, my kind and gentle wise old literary friend, has now, after 20 years, hit the New York Times Bestseller List?! Holy Moly, which says to you all, never give up! No, never. The book has been on Business Week’s Best Seller List for years, and The Wall Street Journal’s Best Seller List over the years, and newspapers around the country all, but this is the first time we’ve managed this, and I am delighted even though I hate with a passion The New York Times. And I’m sure you agree with me good buddies.

And, did you hear the one about the young man who was seated at the death bed of his father who was going any minute and his father whispered to him in a creaky old voice, matza balls, matza balls, by which he meant that he wondered if his son would go down to his mother in the kitchen and ask her if he could have some matza ball soup as his last dinner. And so of course his son did what his father requested, and returned not too long after to say. I’m sorry Pop, Momma says she’s saving the Matza Ball Soup for after the Service.

And what are you saving yourself for? A break? A lucky draw? A time when life isn’t hitting you so hard on the side of the head? When things slow down? When things speed up? When the time looks propitious? When you win the lottery? Hear me, no time will ever show itself to be the time you think you’re looking for. That’s the essence of The Dreaming Room Which is, now’s the time. Absolutely now. And no other.

Come, visit me in The Dreaming Room.

You will never, ever be sorry you did.

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