I took my fedora off and pointed it at him, "Thats me." The little asshole didn't even say anything. He just noded and continued on my way. He sighed win impatience when I told him about my extra luggage. But hey, it wasn't like I was living there or anything.
I was going to be living there. America was my package now. I had a passport, which gave me access between the United States and England, as well as diplomatic immunity. I didn't exactly like how the American's worked, nore did I like their healthcare plan, which went down hill after the healt cutbacks. The problems they suffered now adays almost made Canada look appetizing. But that was the least of my worries. It is funny, but a one would expect that a psychologist such as myself would have alot to worry about. But the only thing I could think of at the time was that I was worried about having to travel between the United states and England would just kill me. 20 hours on a plane. It was horrible.
We left as soon as I got my luggage. The time was currently 1:00 p.m. Little did I know that in less then two hours later, my life would change forever. I know this does not sound very plausable at this point, but, it is amazing how quickly things change. One minute you are fine, the next minute, your life is changed. The things people see can destroy, or strengthen a person.
He lit up a cigarette as soon as we began to pull out of the airport and onto the main street to the hospital. Amazingly enough to my surprise, he started the conversation, "I work with the insain. But noot with the normal insain, I work with those driven to that aspect. You know, those driven through life in general, people, family, friends, and in a more extreme case, drugs."
"Drugs sir?" I asked clsoing my gold cigarette case. I tapped the filter end of the cigarette on the dash board before placing it between my lips.
"Yea, you know, drugs. LSD, paint, gasoline."
"Is LSD pritty common around here?"
"No, but we do have quite a few hippy veterans. From the sixties."
I do not know much about american history, but I do remember a few of the legiondary things which ooccured."
"You know the story of Jimi Hendrix?" he asked then blowing smoke from his nostrils.
"I know who he is. I don't know the story behind him." I said snapping the black zippo lighter shut.
Dr. Benard gave out a small laugh, "He would cut his sides with a knife, then soak a blanket into LSD and wrap it around himself. Then go on stage."
"Is the drug so important that self mutilation was feasible?"
"Back then it was. He would soak his bandanna in LSD over night, then walk out on stage and let the lights make him sweat, then the LSD from the head band would soak strait into his pores. Into his eyes, nostrals, mouth, everywhere. That is why he was able to go on for so long on stage."
"That is a little bit extreme isn't it?"
"Back then it was. It was legal at the time, and given out like candy. But look at the psychodelic aspects of it. What it does to teh mind. If you loook at these stories, the drug wasnt' used to simply party with. Or to be cool. It was to open a person's mind."
"You act like you actualy had it."
"I won't say I have, I won't say I havn't, but what I will say is that your a child once."
"Amen."
"As psychologists, we are always looking for a new way to look at life. And to look at reality. Look at things with different aspects. Then, you tell me, that LSD wouldnt' be the pefect tool to help us in our studies."
"Can't say I agree with that statement. But, then again, I can't say I can't disagree either."
"That is the same reaction to every doctor I have discussed this with." He said taking another puffl, "Look in my glove compartment. In there you will see a document on one of my current cases."
"Mark Phrisco." I said looking at the picture on the front, "Whats his story."
"He lived a Syd Berrett story."
"Syd Berrett?" I asked looking up at him for a moment.
"Please tell me you know who he is."
"Of course, I am English you know, the creator, and the first lead singer, and guitar player for Pink Floyed. Pink Floyed was his nickname even. I am just pondering what he has to do with Mr. Phrisco."
"Syd Barret was only part of the band for a year. He did so much LSD in that one year, that he went insane. He put it in his food, like normal people would do with salt. He drank it practicaly, did dozens beyond dozens of hits of it each and every day. Fried his brain out. The band tried to institutionalize him but he bought out his freedom. Nobody knows where he is. Not even the band. He gets spotted every now and then, but that is about it."
"Same story with Mr. Phrisco here?"
"Naw, he institutionalized himself in 1978. His brain was almost fried. His LSD days were over. But then, in 1989, he suddenly did 30 hits at the same time. Now he is a vegitable. Look at his brain patterns."
"I was just looking at it. Hightly irregular. Its like an ocean on a windy day. Waves of different magnitudes."
"His brain is very active. He is almost in an illusionary world all his own. Barely even blinks. Hasn't said a word since three years ago when he said, take me away."
"Whats that suppoosed to mean?" I asked with an inquisitive face.
"Who knows. He is all fucked up." He said taking another puff of the cigarette, "Right now I am trying to turn his brain on again. Well, turn it on physicaly. So he can actualy connect with teh natural world."
"How are you doing this sir? What techiques are you using?" I asked with an inquisitive face.
"Variouse experimental stuff."