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As Long as We Remember...

February 20, 2005

The Timothy Leary Medical Plan

Tom McLaughlin

Alarming headline in The Herald Mail of Hagerstown. “Pa. hunters say deer are disappearing.” Biologists from the University of Maryland say a great suicidal migration must be in progress. Severely depressed deer are moving into Maryland to end their lives on the states’ highways. Collisions between the animals and motor vehicles are up an alarming rate as Bambi and friends decide to end it all by jumping in front of cars.

In an emergency response, a California group, Deer Hearts and Demented People, have decided to place salt licks laced with Prozac throughout the forests. Distressed Montgomery County transplants have met in emergency session and chose to lace their landscaped estates with Viagra in hopes the “act” will change the minds on the part of the males.

A herd of concerned deer met in front of Herold’s Gun Shop in Waynesboro to discuss the problem. Big Rack Mike stated the cost of the anti-depressants were too expensive for most of the herd to afford.”

What about the deer heart group?” asked one.

“They went off to help the ground hogs,” replied another, “and are busy trying to figure out the answer to that ancient riddle, how much wood can a wood chuck chuck.”

“My friends in Canada pay less than half for the same product,” he declared. “How do we get the drugs, then?” Two-point Louie asked.

“Think of the fawns! Think of the fawns!” said Knob Head, a worried doe.

“Let all go to Canada and see if we can buy them on the black market,” suggested Sprained Tail.

“Who can we buy them from?” asked Broken Point Pete.

“Oh, Moose the Juice. He has a lot of drugs,” replied Big Rack Mike.

Forces were put into motion to halt the wave of deer destruction in Frederick and Washington counties. Bounding over the river, through the wood and pass Grandma’s house, they entered the despised French-speaking province of Quebec.

“How are we going to pay for these medicines,” Two Points asked.

“Our Social Security funds will soon be depleted and with younger deer being hit by cars, there are no funds to replace the money,” said one of the most pessimistic of the group.

“Yo! Hey, man! Ya all lookin’ for Moose the Juice, eh?” a deep voice penetrated the forest of Canada.

“Over here,” answered Big Rack.

Moose clomped over obviously stoned to the wide humming “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was good friend of mine!”

“Hey man, wassup, eh,” he slurred.

“We have come for drugs to stop the suicides in Maryland,” replied Mike.

“Bummer, eh,” intoned Moose.”

But we don’t have any money,” said Mike.

“Double Bummer, eh,” replied Moose. “Why don’t you just change your health care plan to one like we have? Cheap meds for everyone!!

“We can’t. The pharmaceutical companies need to make money to hire the lobbyist to influence the government to keep meds high. Then we don’t have the social security to buy the expensive meds because all the money is gone.”

“Triple Bummer! Well back to nature then,” said Moose.


“Yup! Grow the weed to replace Viagra, have the magic mushrooms to send the mind to ‘Puff the Magic Dragon and the land called Honah Lee.’ So you won’t care about the cancer. I call it the Timothy Leary Medical Plan.”

“We can’t. Those drugs are illegal.”



“What do jobs have to do with drugs? Farmers in South America plant drugs. Money goes to the corrupt dictators to keep the farmers from growing drugs but they get into the USA anyway. Then there are thousands of people involved in drug enforcement and the prison system that is used to jail the people who take the drugs because they can’t afford the real drugs to make them better.”

“Why don’t you make the real drugs cheaper by ending the money spent in lobbying?”

“Good point.”

“He never understood a single word I said and I helped him drink his wine, and he always had some mighty fine wine,” continued Moose.

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