Chapter Eighteen

Ronald Reagan was known as the "Great Communicator." I am known as the "Chicken Bone Guy." In an effort to make myself instantly into a great speaker I tried something I had never done before. I channeled the spirit of President Reagan to come and give me speaking tips. He was surprisingly vague about what it takes to be a good orator. He gave what amounted to a basic approach to public speaking.

"Imagine your audience naked." he shook his head and grinned broadly as he spoke. "Or at the very least, in their underpants."

Here is the problem with that. The audience had just seen ME naked and because I was wearing nothing but my winter coat, they were still catching glimpses of escapee parts. Secondly, I had seen all but a few members of the attentive hoard naked at one point in my life and imagining them without clothes was only providing a distraction.

The other 2 tips he offered before he escaped my grasp were impossible to perform. First he said that I should have the script girl write the words on a big piece of cardboard and lay them at my feet and when I forgot something I could pretend as if I was thinking and just look at my shoes. Second, when things got really hard, Nancy could whisper what I wanted to say in my ear. With those tips he strolled towards heaven, but just before he faded into the sunset he turned and excitedly yipped. "Start things off with a joke!"

As I stood before my friends and lovers trying to think of a great ice breaker to start the festivities another thought came to me. "Who am I?" I meant that in a broad sense. I mean, I had either been married or intimate with every woman in the room. Am I Hugh Hefner? Am I Johnny Carson? Why didn't I channel him? Was I a dog that flitted from woman to woman with no sense of morals? There was Lisa, Candace, Carol and Cynthia sitting on the couch in front of me all staring at me in what might be construed as adoration.

I let go. "Since the accident.....The one with the tornado....Something has been happening with me."

Bob reached under the coffee table and pulled a reluctant Oprah to his lap. There was an audible squish as he pulled him to his soaked t-shirt.

"I....I....I've been talking to the dead and I can see visions of heaven and hell!" I blurted

There was an effective pause and silence in the room that was broken when Louis' arm slipped off of his shoulder, snaked through his shirtsleeve and plopped on the floor with the timing of a comic drum rimshot. Everyone's head turned with miraculous precision in his direction, like spectators at a tennis match. Then with an identical timing they returned to me.

"I know this sounds a little crazy, and it very well may be, but I can communicate with those who have left this veil of tears. There is no limit as to who I can contact. I have spoken to dead relatives and acquaintances as well as the famous and....The infamous." I looked into the eyes of my audience and saw a calm, believing demeanor. "Any questions?"

Dr. Granger spoke. "Can I have that Diet Coke now?"

"No, you can't! I'm trying to tell you something that's very difficult right now." I barked.

"But I'm thirsty."

"Me too!" said Bob.

"Could I get a Diet Pepsi?" said Dave Price. "With light ice?

"People!" I spoke so loudly that I could feel it vibrate through my head wounds. "We'll get to that in good time, I'm trying to tell you that I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!"

Everyone laughed at my reference to the catch phrase from the movie "Sixth Sense."

"So when you see these people, is it like a dream?" Candace has a voice so lilting and smooth I actually glanced at the radio to see if it was on.

"Hi Candace." I smiled. "No, it's nothing like a dream. "It's as if it is happening alongside my physical experience... It's just as real but somehow separated."

"Like the Patty Duke show?" asked Dave.

The crowd became restless. He continued.

"You know the TV show where she played her own identical cousin. They would photograph her doing a scene and then have her change clothes and they would somehow put her next to herself and she would have this whole conversation....I'll just shut up." he hung his head.

"It's sort of like that in a way that is nothing like that at all Dave, but thanks for the help." I was starting to get comfortable with the idea of telling my story. "Thanks to the injury that took away a piece of my brain, I am now able to see into another world. I spoke with my late Father this morning and he told me to say Hello to all of you."

"Hewwoo" responded Bob.

"Anyway, you can take this as an illusion caused by my condition, or like me, you can see it as a gift that we can share. I guess all I want is for you all to know what is happening to me and whether you believe it or not, I won't feel the need to hide it from you."

Candace sat up excitedly. "Oh my this would make a great movie! Dave don't you think this would make a wonderful film story."

Dave, anxious to please Candance agreed whole heartedly. "It would be fabulous!"

Russell, looking a little upset, turned to Candace."Who would play me?

"John Goodman." said Dave.

"Phillip Seymour Hoffman." rebuffed Candace, bringing a smile to Russell's face.

"Wha bout me?" drooled Bob.

"Brad Pitt." answered Dave without hesitation.

Dr. Granger jumped in. "I want Samuel L. Jackson to play me."

My son Louis yelled. "Vince Vaughn could be Louis!"

"Hold on, hold on." I said. "Let's not get crazy, this isn't a movie... This is my life...This is my torment! Who would play me?"

In unison the four women on the couch answered without a moment's hesitation. "Johnny Depp."

I smiled.