The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

The buzz down at the Diner this week revolved mostly about the British doc who had ‘successfully’ transplanted a human head. The Flathead table — the one usually dedicated to arcane discussions of 4 barrel carburetors, sandblasting techniques, after-market wiring and preferred waxes — was animated about this surgical breakthrough of the week.

“Where’d they get a donor head?” Fairlane Fred asked the assembled auto restorers and Little Jimmy said he’d read that the doctor had used cadavers.

“My god,” Barry exclaimed, “that’s like dropping a blown engine as a replacement. How about that, Tim?” he asked Tim Jensen at the end of the table. We all knew the story” Tim had spent a week hauling his old 396 out of a favorite restoration, then dropped a rebuilt in only to learn it too needed rebuilding, the block having a crack he’d missed, something the boyz would never let him live down, not if he lived to be a hundred and thirty and won the pole position at NASCAR.

“I guess they’ll be looking for donors now,” Wally said, “unless they’re gonna work on zombies first.”

“You volunteering?” Fred asked.

“No, I’d miss this ugly one way too much. Anyway, I’d need a place to hang my hat.”

“Kinda weird to think about, you ask me,” Tim said. “Although, I saw a guy who had a face transplant on TV last night talking to the wife of the guy who used to have that face. Gave me the heebie-jeebies, I tell you that.”

“So if you get a 2nd hand head,” Fred asked, “do you get some other person’s memories? Or do you get re-wired and have to start over?”

“Go ask Frankenstein,” Little Jimmy answered.

“The very first Deadhead,” I said. The boyz all turned toward me, 8 live heads pivoting as one. Fairlane shook his head and put his fork down solemnly. “Damn, Skeeter,” he said, “you left your own head back in the 60’s.”

I flushed a little, probably from that third coffee refill. “Yeah, maybe I’ll check Craigslist, see if there’s a fresh one, more up to date. Sure can’t get excited about a cadaver head.” I was pretty sure there was nobody there who’d be willing to swap.

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