What? No Silver Platter?
Me? Drive David Carradine? THE David Carradine? Sure--I mean, of course! I'd love to drive him! Oh man, this is going to be so great. Me and David Carradine riding around in my Sentra. We'll become best of friends! I just know it!
And we did become best of friends. We talked about life. We discussed Betamax vs VHS. We talked about David's book which bombed because he didn't promote it. He smoked in my car...with the windows up. We listened to his CD which he gave to me. Everything was going just swimmingly...
...until his head fell off!
Besides the initial heavy rush of grief that hit me after realizing my new best friend was now dead, I also felt a sudden powerful panic. I was David Carradine's driver! They trusted me with his life, and I failed them. His head fell off while in my care! In my care in my car! Not that I had anything to do with his head falling off. I mean...it just fell off! Look, the guy did a lot of kung fu back in his day and maybe he took a few too many chops to the neck. Add all of those cigarettes smoked inside cars with the windows up, and I imagine his whole neck region to be pretty dried out. I mean, just a slight tap of the brakes at his age could totally, feasibly cause sudden decapitation. And that's what happened. And that's what I told them. And they didn't care anyways because he was picture wrapped. So, instead of getting yelled at and fired...we all decided to enjoy the Head of David Carradine.
Eventually, the Head of David Carradine began to smell. Heads don't keep long in the Valley sun. So I had to drive to the desert and bury the Head.
Let's just say that the drive back home from the desert got a little emotional for me.
I'm still sad but keeping that stiff upper lip. I miss you David Carradine...and I miss your head.