Document describes a personal anecdote about a death pool game called “The Game” with no substantive investigative leads

Swimming in the Dead Pool When Ken Kesey’ s son Jed was killed in an accident--the van carrying his University of Oregon wrestling team had skidded off a cliff--I immediately flew to Oregon. “You were his favorite,” Kesey said as we embraced, sobbing. “I feel like every cell in my body is exploding,” A few days later, several of us old friends were sitting around the dining-room table there, and someone mentioned that the Dead Kennedys were on tour. “| wonder if Ted Kennedy is gonna go see’ em,” | remarked. Kesey, standing in the kitchen, responded, “That’ s not funny.” “You' re right. | apologize. It’ s not very abstract right now.” “It' s never abstract.” | recalled that little dialogue as | began to explore The Game, now in its 34th year [2004], the longest-running dead pool in America, currently with 125 players. Before January 1st everyone submits 68 names of people who might die that year. (Dr. Death, co-founder of The Game, liked to work on a legal pad--34 lines, two columns, hence 68 names.) Points are awarded according to the age of each dead person--anybody in their 50s is worth five points; 60s, four; 70s, three. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015274