Touched By a Ghost

I had lunch with the ghost of Walt Whitman today. I was eating my usual hazel nut butter and pomegranate jelly sandwich when in walked the bearded writer. That’s what I know him for. He looks a lot like Dr. Andrew Weil. I think lots of celebrities look alike. The only way we can be certain of who they are is when we see them doing their thing.

Whitman sat down and just looked at me. I think that was his way of talking. The thing is, it’s not my way. So it was awkward. I mean, it’s already weird he was a ghost.

Finally I said, “Hello.”

Whitman said, “I give you fair warning before you attempt me further, I am not what you supposed, but far different.”

I’ve never read Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. I’ve read very little poetry in my life. I’m not interested. I appreciate it because I have a general love of words. But still, it’s an item I never order from the library’s restaurant. So, I just nodded and smiled. This helps when you’re talking with artists. When people do it to me, I know what’s going on, but still it gives me some satisfaction.

Whitman looked back at me and nodded. We both nodded. It set up some kind of nodding momentum. After a while I got dizzy and stopped.

I said, “I wrote some songs. Maybe you might like them.” I put on my new album, Brooks Takes His Time. He hummed along with a few songs. Humming means someone likes what they’re hearing. It’s different than nodding. Humming comes from satisfaction. This meant a lot to me. Usually I’m not affected by ghosts.

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