My son, at 7 years old, asked me the other day whether he was real.  Cause sometimes he feels like he isn’t real.  I think this is extremely advanced thinking, the kind that we beat out of kids early.  The kind of thinking that great philosophers contemplate – what is the essence of life?  The kind of thinking that great spiritual minds contemplate, what is the nature of spirit, life, afterlife.  The kinds that filmmakers contemplate, that maybe we are all just stuck in a matrix.  I don’t want to discourage this kind of question, but I don’t know the answer.  I don’t know, son, whether we are real.