Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner to say thanks for the pic — but I coincidentally had just filled my own prescription of Legit drugs moments before I read this post. So I decided: “What the hell?” And walked like a pilgrim to Leggitt Drugs in West Lebanon to kiss the Holy Sign.

And also to steal it.

My plan was to carry it home on my back like Jesus carried the Cross. But since I’ve already been punished for the sins of others – Half of my life I spent doing time… – I changed my mind.

Realized that the Holy Sign & I should travel the elegant way. So I prowled the streets of West Lebanon & looked for a Cadillac to borrow. I was going to prop the sign up next to me in the passenger seat — you know, like God Is My Co Pilot — then drive it back to MG TANK’s house and trade it for a small pile of Adderall.

There were a few Cadillacs around town. But none suitable. They were all rudely beneath the greatness of the Liggitt sign’s stature.

I reverently insisted on Headroom.

And there were no Cadillac convertibles around. I looked, Pippi — swear I did. Prowled the streets long past dawn, muttering “Must..Have…Headroom.” I was talking to myself, but — as is often the case — it turns out I spoke to myself rather loudly.

Thought I finally found what I needed when some local — well, I assume he was from New Hampshire since he looked so dumb — stopped to tell me that he knew where I could find Headroom.

No shit?

“Yeah. I work with the guy.” He said, “You want his autograph, right? He comes on at noon right across the street.”

The local pointed to Kentucky Fried Chicken.

“Stop in any time after the lunch rush.” The passer-by advised. “Just ask for Max.”

“Max?” I asked bewilderedly.

“Sure, Max. Max Headroom.” Then he sauntered off to work. But quickly turned back, as if he were compelled by a power greater than himself, and informed me of one last thing.

“You know.” He spoke sternly. “Max could get back in the TV business. Why, just the other day the Geico people called to offer him a commercial spot. Hell he could be famous again — just like those Cavemen! But he don’t care about nothin anymore. Wouldn’t even bother to work except he needs money to buy his crack!”

No shit?

I crossed the street. Hung around the back entrance to KFC. And even though I didn’t get the sign, Pippi, the trip wasn’t a total waste. Because I got to smoke crack with Max Headroom!

Plus I convinced him to quit his job & go on Mike E’s Day Off Tour. Why not? Sell crack in the parking lot!

So yeah. I didn’t get the sign but still I was positively satisfied with a Job Well Done. Before I left though I wanted to pop into Liggitt Drugs to kiss the pharmacist’s hand and thank him for doing the work of the Lord. But remembered how darkly discomforted my home-town pharmacist seems when I kiss his hand each month — and quickly changed my mind.

So I stole a pinball machine out of the nearest bowling alley & drove it home.