I had the most entertaining call last week. A dear old pal phoned. He was editing some journalism drivel and, no. No need to jump to snarky conclusions. This has nothing to do with your Mighty Signal. The conversation began with him asking if I was feeling OK. Any heart palpitations? Shortness of breath? Had I fallen and couldn’t get up? Most importantly, was I finding myself floating in a tunnel and doing the breast stroke toward a welcoming and kindly ray of unfathomable bright light? 

“Feeling ducky,” I responded. “Can still carry a pool table under one arm and a piano under the other and walk up the step to the Santa Clarita Civic Center, all one of them. Why do you ask?” 

My pal said he had a press release about College of the Canyons hosting their annual book fair. It had a quote from me that I had provided some time ago. He read it to me. Yup. The usual, Take Two & Go To Right, The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow, We Shall Endeavor To Persevere mindless malarkey august community leaders like myself enjoy spewing. He asked me again about my corporal being because the press release referred to me as — 

“… the late John Boston.” 

I casually glanced at a nearby mirror. Same little puffy bags under my eyes I’ve had since second grade. Killer green bedroom eyes and come-hither smile. I made a thoughtful chimpanzee face, the fourth of the day. My friend asked me if I was lying about my death. 

“I’m talking to you right now and you called me,” I pointed out. 

“How do I know........

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