Dear Future Reader,

I want you to know that this email you are reading was written on November 30th, 2010. What were you doing on that evening? Were you (like me) watching the New York Knicks beat their once fierce rivals across the river, those ragged Nets who are (like many of us) praying for better days but still stuck in the muddy waters of mediocrity? Were you tired from the workday but too excited not to write about your favorite team’s recent successes? And have those successes grown, oh future reader? How far have they grown?

And have you visited our magnificent garden recently? I know they’re preparing (if not actually starting by the time you’re reading this) the much-overdue facelift. Prepare for super-duper box seats. Prepare for ultra-modern conveniences and high-definition viewing experiences. From every seat? From every seat.

How long has it been? Were you just two and in your daddy’s arms? Did you wolf down the pretzel at alarming speed? Was the large soda larger than the length of your arm? Was your favorite player named Willis or Walt?

Were you in high school and a baller yourself? Did you wear tight shorts and fascinatingly long socks? Did you bring a date? Did you make out? Did your team win? Did you take the LIRR?

Were you there when Ewing wore his Sisyphean sweat on his sleeve every night at the free throw line, how he deserved more than the boulder and the hill? Were you there when Starks threw it down on Jordan and the Bulls. Did you sit near Spike Lee? Did you boo Reggie too?

Were you there for Sprewell and Houston? How about Robinson and Lee? Did you sit in the cheap seats? Was it a Friday night? Was it last week? Yesterday? Could it have been a (gasp!) Ranger game?

Seriously, what are you doing this weekend? Why can’t you close this imaginary window on this imaginary computer screen and take that magical transformative trip west. You can even take a little nap on the train if you’re tired. You know that when you wake up, you’ll be in the middle of the world’s most famous dream.