Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1977-1989 | View Entire Issue (May 30, 1979)
L . . .. ' . -—— satire =^==^========^===== ‘Can’t help losing my head over you’ jy Kelly Laughlin nod of the head, and began discribing the various heads in the store, which appeared to be as alive as if they were connec ted to a body. A few of them seemed a bit complacent, while (others were reading, or making faces at me. )f The Print The year was 1981. Dr. Robert White, medical irofessor at Case Western ¡eserve University in Ohio, iad perfected research that »gan three years ago, tran- olanting—the heads of rats nd monkeys. Recently, he’d jxtended his method to human Kings. One week ago, White’ suc- lessfully transplanted the head if actor/producer Orson Ms, to the body of country linger Mel Tillis. When asked to explain the eason for the change, Tillis, I nean Wells, explined, “Thu, hough I stu, stutter a bu, bit norethan usual, I thought this vould be the best alternative to i low fat diet,” he said. Tillis pve his body to Wells after osing his head in a wild coun tymusic concert. To some, this new develop- nent in science technology :ould border on the un- lelievable. To others, a fantasy ome true: a new self image; our body oiessed with the ex- remities and inner workings of ifamous individual. Some nay not be satisfied with their nental capacity or personality, ind vie for a new head, while a ¡elect few may simply want a ace change, and keep their wn brain intact. What man vouldn’t want the chance to ook like Robert Redford or ¡lint Eastwood? By now, this practice had «come somewhat of a fad, nd lever for big business. In bis year alone, four of my best riends had made the switch at i cost of only one payment a lionth for two years, and a five ear warrantee on all working arts. Satisfaction or their old lead back.: ¡The yellow pages were clut- ered with businesses nomoting the transplant op ion. “Rent a John/’gave their “This head,” the owner said, pointing to a rounded, paun chy face, “used to be connec ted to an IBM executive. He was a statistical analyst.” “His face looks a bit beat up. Can you tell me why?” I questoned. “Well,” he said, “why don’t you ask him yourself .” You mean they can talk, 9” “Sure, that’s why our business is so successful. What good is a head to you if you don’t know what he’s like.” customers a body for one or two nights, sort of like renting out a tux. But this was even better. The company’s slogan: “Look great on the dance floor with the body of John Travolta and your own head.” The odds were against me. 1 had to get a new face. Everyone has to decide whether to get a new body, a new head, or just a new face nowadays. I’m in pretty good shape physically, and I have a “Athletic Cadavers, Inc.,” warm personality. At least sells the corpses of such greats that’s what most people say. as Jackie Robinson, Babe But a new face, that’s an in Ruth, Vince Lombardi and triguing idea. But I had to work fast, I sup Gale Sayers. “The Perfect Smile” was a company who posed that most of the really had at their disposal, such great good heads were gone by now. grins as Carol Burnett, Linda I heard that yesterday Steve Ronstat, Jimmy Carter, and McQueen donated his head to Nipsey Russel. Oh yes, and for the prime minister of Uganda, a small additional cost, you and much to my dismay, John ■ could have their complete Wayne finally got rid of his old cosmetic case, complete with cancer ridden body and pur toothpaste, dental floss, and chased the body of a 20-year- poly grip. A few do have loose old Cherokee Indian. Although he said he would never faith gums. fully do any more Westerns, he With such an overwelming is starting a new series in the fall amount of pressure from my entitled “The Day I Scalped a peers, and business promotion Redskin.” before me, I had to make a So I jogged to the local head quick decision: , either change shop. By now they had surely my image, and gain status, or outnumbered even gas keep my old self and loose all stations. The owner of the store ___ o_________________________ __ ___ my friends. greeted me ____ with __________ a smile and _ a “But you don’t understand,” I protested. “I don’t need an entirely new head, just the outer shell.” The statistical analyst’s head interrupted . . . “Oh, then you want ‘Heads Without Brains, Inc.’ They’re downstairs.” “Yes,” the owner said, “just take the escalator up two floors and turn right at the first door. And be careful not to bump your head, they make the doorwells kind of low these days.” As I stepped on the escalator, I wondered if the knoggin’ store owner was trying to be funny or speaking the truth. Toward the second floor I began to think he wasn’t joking when I detected a line of headless people standing out side the “Head Without Brains” department. t t f $ June 5, 6 & 7 at the I CCC Bookstore L hnesday, May 30,1979 ♦ So I began working my way through the headless crowd, and had almost made it to the door when a voice said, “Hey buddy, what do you think you are doing?” “But ...” “But nothing. Just because youA/e been blessed with an exceptionally good looking head, doesn’t mean you can cut in, Step to the back of the line,” the headless man said. “Did you say you thought my head was handsome?” I said in surprise. “Yea,” he said, in a somewhat audible tone. “It’s really nice, where did you get it?” “Well, this is my own head, you know. I didn’t buy it,” I said. “Then what are you doing here? Go home fella. You’re just fine the way you are.” “I don’t know what to say except, thanks for knocking heads with me, ugh, I mean bringing things to head, ugh, I mean . . .” “Go home buddy, before you loose your head,” he said. So I took the man’s advice. I guess I was so taken by the whole craze of transplantation, 1 got a notion that I might later have regretted. I wonder if Doctor White got the same notion? MUFFLER PROBLEMS? ¡Cash for Books? I I t This was too much for me to take. First I see a line-up of bodyless heads in the head shop, and now this. I needed a beer with a good head on it. But I tried to control my anxiety. I was determined not to let this bazaar set of incidents upset my stomach. I mean, how are these headless people going to know if I squeeze right through them to the door? 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