"We Heard You Died"

So, I'm driving back from the store with my youngest son and get a telephone call from work.

"Ted? This is Andy. Hi!"

Yeah. Hi. OK. What? I'm sick. I called in sick. Flu or something that, alas, doesn't take away the need to do fatherly duties. (Dads can't call in sick.)

"Yeah...Marty just got a call ... um...from the Times-Standard up in Eureka...and..."

What? Gee whiz? I know the guys I work with are incredibly thoughtful, but I don't think I need to hear about every communication between them and my old newspaper.

"...and, um, the sports editor said you were in a car accident..."

Say what? No.

"I what? No. I'm driving home right now. That's weird."

Weird didn't accurately describe how it felt to hear a rumor that I'd been in a car wreck, perhaps 350 miles away in my old hometown.

"...actually...um..."

Andy pauses when he's saying something he's uncomfortable saying. Nice guys are like that. They know they're going to say something potentially upsetting so ... they ... hesitate. (Thus, I tend to blurt things out and think later.)

"...actually, they said you'd passed away."

The Times-Standard guy called the Napa Valley Register guy to ask if I'd died.

Oh. OK. Whew! I thought it was something important.

"He called to see if I'D DIED!?!?!?! That's insane. I'm alive, unless something happened I don't know about. My son's in the back seat of the car and he's in trouble if I'm dead..."

I laughed it off because my parents' deaths skewed my view of death. I'm a little afraid of dying, like lots of people. I know it makes people left behind really sad, so ... sure ... I'd say the thought of death is unpleasant. I have, however, come to grips with the fact I'm going to die and that the world will go on...my family and friends will get over my death and, hopefully, prosper.

Hearing word of my own demise didn't send a chill down my spine or anything.

I am on the case now, though, trying to figure out how the story unfolded. I know there are folks in my home area who likely relish the notion of my passing. But, the story apparently started in Fairfield...and, really...nobody cares enough about me one way or the other there to start a rumor. Word is that it could be a joke...

Now, I'll acknowedge, hearing I'd died did not make me laugh.