-61-
23 January 2008
Dear Lorne,

Last night you were in my dreams. This could be as close as we ever get as there are multiple priorities to contend with. Sharing it now will help turn the page. Can dreams tell the future?

It was the first live show after a long break,  happy vibes prevailed. I was on this monorail that passed in front of a sort of studio with large windows elevated to the same level from which you greeted me. Beforehand I had wondered if some mention of my effort would be aired, veiled as to keep it only between us. You were dressed in casual green, running the show from what seemed like an immense apartment. Everyone had been expecting me. There was a long, reclined chair, but no straps or torture implements, at least not on display. We walked out to what seemed like the back of a country garden after a lazy afternoon summer barbeque. I kept waiting for you to ask me a question, thinking 'wow, this is actually happening', but you seemed to be waiting for me to ask something, the same feeling I had in the last two phone calls from your staff, thirty years apart, like I had left something out. So I came out with something general prefaced by something like 'how, when and where', but I can't recall the rest. While everyone was so nice, there seemed to be a latent tension intertwined in the underlying ambiguity.

Recently I finally got around to reading in order what has already been sent, having previously hesitated to do so in fear of getting bogged down with the past which could compromise focus on the future. Consistency between the page you hold in your hand to read and what is posted to the sight prevails over correcting any typos, yet to my horror, there was one pair of letters that started with the same paragraph.
                                                                        
Until now, hardly anyone is aware of my sight or these letters. However, last week I did a mailing to a number of press contacts, each one located by going to their sight, wherever possible finding the name of someone most likely to be interested in our situation. As yet, there is no way of knowing to what extent exposure to my sight may be impacted or not. Typos I can live with, such imperfection lends to the overall raggedness. But allowing such careless duplication continues to annoy, eating away productivity. Although requiring an exception be made, I will go back and rewrite that duplicate lead in before anyone else catches on.

Your photo is also on my sight. If this poses any problem, I will promptly remove it.

When you wish upon a star, makes you wonder who you are...