The Doctor's hands are the key to life
Saigon, shit.....I lay in my hotel run, looking at my orders in disbelief. I couldn't believe they wanted him dead, West Point, Airborne, Special Forces. "Terminate with extreme prejudice" they said. I had to meet the crew of a Patrol Boat-River (PBR) at the mouth of the Brandywine river for the trip upstream so I got a ride on a Huey gunship with a troop from the 1st Cav, and lunatic surfer and battalion commander known as Lt. Col. Kilgore.The crew of my PBR were a strange lot, the M-60 gunner looked like a very young Cowboy Curtis from the Pee Wee Herman show or maybe Morpheus from The Matrix.
After a surreal journey filled with pointless allegories and allusions, incoherent scenes with no point to the plot, (although the Playboy bunnies having to flee on the skids of a helicopter, that was a nice touch) I arrived at his den. The natives all seemed to look the same, holding glasses of thick black liquid, just staring at me otherwise silent. Then I met the Swedish Chef. He babbled excitedly, "he, he, he's a good man, a great man, he's changed my life, I'd follow him anywhere..." he went on and on, several different cameras dangling from around his neck. He seemed to go off on tangents, he was clearly insane, one minute he was talking about putting a bomb on a bus that would explode if it went less than 55 miles an hour, the next minute he was talking about the road to retirement, and having a plan, and about Ameriprise Financial. (By the way, who picks a stockbroker on the advice of Dennis Hopper?)
Then there he was, the Doctor himself. An ethereal glow seemed to emanate around his aura, the wicker chair providing the perfect framing backdrop, his white suite gleaming to the point of me having to shield my eyes. He wielded his spade shaped hand fan like a magician, effortlessly cooling himself, his bottle of 7-Up dripping sweat in his other hand. His first words to me were not exactly clear, something about being caffeine free, never had it, never will.
Ok enough, I think my memory of the evening was blurred by about 4 Guinness's, and the free swag we got from them, (T-Shirts and key chains) so I think I'm confusing my stories between Apocalypse Now, Hearts of Darkness, and a 7-Up commercial. Suffice to say, I met the man himself, and it was good. Everyone should meet Dr. Zibbs at least once in their lives, at least that's what it says in the Koran anyway. As for the Swedish Chef, as it turns out, we've probably met each other before at of all places, at John Young's Guerrilla Drive in! (It's a small world, and a really cool town West Chester is) He even grew up with and knows Nikki from Van Ryn's barbershop, she's the one that cuts my hair, of which Lana approves of. :)
I'm telling you, living in West Chester is great, spring is here, summer is coming, you got to get here!