Howard, the Dead Head
My favorite area in Koh Panang , Thailand is home, temporary or permanent, to some of the brightest beings I’ve met. Last week, while there, I was reminded of another shining soul that Kyle, Kensi and I met on our road trip last summer when we were visiting our grandma . After a few days with her, feeling stifled by the Louisiana heat, we sought respite in bayou waters. It was there we met Howard. Deeply tanned, the man sank into the water with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon held high. I guessed he was anywhere from 40 to 60 years old. Behind a goofy smile, he had three grey teeth, triumphantly hanging onto red gums. Scraggly, dirty blonde hair fell past his shoulders, held out of his face with a pink bandanna tied across his forehead. Sending ripples our way, he moved toward us. As he joined our circle, knee-deep in the murky water, I nodded at his upper arm and asked, "You a dead head?” The band’s skull logo and the words, "Greatful Dead," were inked there