Twenty years ago I bumped into Gerald Ford. I could have called him Mr. President; perhaps that would have helped. It was at Carnegie Hall and I actually sought him out, not for an autograph or to do any harm, just to talk. I told you that story to tell you this story: I am what one would call a conspiracy enthusiast and the whole JFK Dealey Plaza situation I find more than intriguing. Gerald Ford was, at the time, the last living member of The Warren Commission and after reading The Warren Commission Report it was my right as an American, to ask him a question or two. After two hours of being on stage, he was ushered off and I thought I had missed my chance. I asked one of the inconspicuously dressed men in a $4000 suit and wearing an earpiece and dark sunglasses, apparently attempting to blend in, which way Mr. Ford had gone. He directed me down one hallway and I, understanding misdirection, went in the opposite direction. I wound up in the bowels of the building and I had to pass through a Secret Service checkpoint and was thoroughly lost. I rounded a corner a little too fast and ran right into Gerald Ford…well it wasn’t Mr. Ford exactly but his entourage: a tightly packed group of Schwarzenegger types wearing suits and earpieces. Once it was deemed I wasn't a threat and I was able to peel myself off of the cinder block wall they had me up against, I addressed the Mr. former President and asked him a question about Dealey plaza. He gave me a look of intense disdain, or perhaps he just had indigestion. Then he made an eye gesture and the biggest of them, this guy probably had to duck and turn sideways to get through a doorway, stepped between me and Mr. Ford. And when I attempted to maneuver around Hulk's bigger brother, he pressed his fingers into my chest and pushed my up against the wall, again, and before I could blink, Gerald Mr. Ex-President Rudolph Ford, Jr. was gone. It's been over twenty years and I'm a bit further down the JFK rabbit hole and every time I think about it, I get an odd pain in chest.