Mr. Dreemer is a 35-year-old entrepreneur. Right now, he is in the process of writing several books but has yet to finish
one. The consulting business he runs from his home will do very well if it ever gets any clients.
The truth is that he plans to hit it big someday, even though he never earned a penny in his life. Fortunately for him, his
parents, who are quite well off, seem to have no problem supporting him until "his ship comes in." What they do not realize
is that it's not a ship—it's a canoe. And it sank about two days after he was born. Were it not for his parents, he would
be a hobo.
However, now and then, Dreemer does have a great idea (so he says). In fact, two years ago, he had one of his brainstorms
right in my office.
"Doctor, you have some real problems here," Dreemer said. "I notice that your office is a bottleneck of negative energy. The
feng shui is all wrong. Are you familiar with the ancient Chinese art of arranging furniture and objects to maximize the positive
forces of nature?" (In my office, the only force of nature that matters is me.)
"I'm starting a new consulting business," he continued. "I am a feng shui adviser. Your office would run much more efficiently
if you let me show you how to rearrange your equipment to be more in tune with nature. For example, that table should be over
here by the light switch."
What he was suggesting would result in the table sitting right in the doorway. Only cats or small children would be able to
enter or leave that room.
"Don't laugh, doctor," he continued. "Those of us who study these things know that feng shui is very important, especially
this year. You know, it is the Year of the Ox." (Seemed like the year of Bull to me.)
Now, I'm sure there are clients out there who would be willing to hire a feng shui adviser, possibly in New York or Los Angeles,
but probably not in Macungie, Pa. He left the office somewhat disappointed with my attitude, but he was back the following
year with another idea: tai chi for cats.