And all I had to do was listen to tapes of his piano music.

Under normal conditions, the minute someone begins to suggest he is a messenger of God, I leave the room. I have walked out on psychics, seers, oracles, evangelists and a plumber once who not only heard from God but talked to him at some length about their trip to Lake Tahoe as they worked under my sink.

So, when Howard Richman began hinting that he might be a conduit for what he called “another force” in his effort to relieve the world of stress and obesity, I tensed. The door of his Woodland Hills home was about 30 feet away and no force, however awesome, could keep me from it once I was on my feet.

One of the reasons I didn’t stalk out, however, was that Howard quickly explained he wasn’t a psychic and he wasn’t weird, he was simply trying to say he had a special talent he wanted to share with the world. For money, of course.

The other reason is that his aim is to use that talent, as I mentioned, to make us serene and slim, two conditions I have sought for most of my adult life. And all I had to do was listen to tapes of his piano music.

Howard is 27 and holds a master of fine arts degree from the California Institute of the Arts, where he now teaches. He says he has discovered a method which, through the subtle variables of music, can help its listener fight stress and fat.

I was especially interested in the part about fighting fat. Given the choice, I would rather be thin and tense than overweight and tense, because you are nothing at all in L.A. unless you are trim enough to wear designer jump suits purchased on Rodeo Drive.

“I’ve had people tell me they can feel their stomachs shrink as they listen to my tape,” Howard said.

We were sitting in his living room. He is a perfect example of his own idea. As trim as a reed and as calm as a child at sleep.

“You’re telling me this will make me thin?” I asked, holding up a tape he calls “Feeling Fat.”

“It has helped others,” he said. “It made one woman crave fruits and vegetables.”

True. I talked to her. She said it was not a simple craving, but one that sent her to a store in the middle of the night for peaches and cauliflower.

“I lost 17 pounds in the first month,” she said enthusiastically. “I listened to the tape five times a day. I felt as though I was rearranged.” The rearranged lady requested that her name not be used.

I couldn’t find the person who felt his stomach shrink. But anything that will rearrange me is worth my time. I would like a little less girth around the bottomside and a little more expanse across the shoulders. Also, I want to be smarter and taller, but that involves another tape, I guess. I have always hated short legs.

I found Howard’s music to be, well, nice. Different, but nice. A pamphlet he gave me suggested it would fill me with a “happy, bouncy feeling.”

Well, I didn’t feel happy and bouncy, but that may take more than just a piano. An entire symphony orchestra, perhaps. We are dealing here with a man who is rarely happy and absolutely never bounces.

Howard said I should allow myself to react to the music. “Laugh, cry, dance, sing, anything! “ I think we may have an attitude problem here. The most I could manage was a smile, and that made my face hurt.

Years ago a Sherman Oaks man named Dan Martino ran a charm school for men. He tried his best to brighten my essentially negative personality through a series of suggestions that had worked for others. I was his first failure. To hell with charm.

I will admit, in deference to Howard’s tape, I did not listen under ideal conditions. I was supposed to play it at home during a “minimum-thinking activity.” Upon waking, before eating, while eating or doing simply nothing.

I heard it while driving on the Ventura Freeway during heavy traffic. The life span of someone not thinking while driving the Ventura Freeway during heavy traffic is too short to be measured. The clown who cut me off to reach the Balboa off-ramp didn’t help.

Also, I did not play the tape the recommended one or three times a day. As a result, I am not happy, my stomach is not happy, I don’t crave peaches, I can’t stand cauliflower and I didn’t lose a pound.

All of this is not to say it isn’t possible to lose weight listening to music. It worked for the rearranged lady. She felt bouncy and wanted to laugh, cry, dance and sing.

She said she met once with 8 or 10 others who had tried “Feeling Fat” and it worked for them, too. A whole room full of bouncing, laughing fat people is an impressive consideration.

Howard says he is in contact with 200 physicians, psychologists and clinical researchers to evaluate his technique of reducing stress and losing weight. With any kind of positive response, he’s off and running. Well, off and strolling.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep listening to the tape. I’ll do almost anything for a happy stomach, though I’ll be damned if I’ll eat cauliflower.