One of my best friends from grad school became a plastic surgeon. He worked in the cosmetic surgery department of a major southern California medical center. He was asked to remove a mole from President Reagan's forearm. He invited me to tag along, so we drove up to Santa Barbra, and I waited in the foyer while he did the procedure in President Reagan's office.
My friend told President Reagan that I was a huge fan, and after the minor procedure, he came out to say hello. He shook my hand, tossled my hair the way my grandfather would, and I turned into a blubbering dip shit right there on the spot.
This was in the late 80s, I was just a young pup in my 20s, but damn. what a moment. I had my flag under my arm, hoping he might sign it or something. (thinking back, it was kind of a stupid idea, but I was young)
I asked him if he would autograph it for me, and he took the flag, held it over his heart, and smiled that incredible smile, eye twinkling and said, "This is most dear... Cherish it. and Never forget what it stands for. I'm sorry, I can't sign it.. I could never deface our precious flag". I sat there dumbfounded. then he said "I have something you might like", he turned and got a copy of that famous head shot (the picture with the cowboy hat) from the drawer in a cabinet there (apparently lots of people wanted his picture, he had a whole stack!). He signed it, and handed it to me.
We had stopped and bought a disposable camera on the way there, so we posed for pictures while the SS agent played photographer... right there in the foyer of his ranch. it was freaking mind bending!
I damn near fainted multiple times.. I thanked him trying not to sound like a puppy pissing himself... and after hand shakes, and some teasing from my friend and from the SS agent, we left. It was the most unbelievable moment. I am SOOOOO lucky.
That picture and that flag are my prized possessions. that flag will stay in the distress configuration until Biden the usurper is thrown out of the white house.
One of my best friends from grad school became a plastic surgeon. He worked in the cosmetic surgery department of a major southern California medical center. He was asked to remove a mole from President Reagan's forearm. He invited me to tag along, so we drove up to Santa Barbra, and I waited in the foyer while he did the procedure in President Reagan's office.
My friend told President Reagan that I was a huge fan, and after the minor procedure, he came out to say hello. He shook my hand, tossled my hair the way my grandfather would, and I turned into a blubbering dip shit right there on the spot.
This was in the late 80s, I was just a young pup in my 20s, but damn. what a moment. I had my flag under my arm, hoping he might sign it or something. (thinking back, it was kind of a stupid idea, but I was young)
I asked him if he would autograph it for me, and he took the flag, held it over his heart, and smiled that incredible smile, eye twinkling and said, "This is most dear... Cherish it. and Never forget what it stands for. I'm sorry, I can't sign it.. I could never deface our precious flag". I sat there dumbfounded. then he said "I have something you might like", he turned and got a copy of that famous head shot (the picture with the cowboy hat) from the drawer in a cabinet there (operantly lots of people wanted his picture, he had a whole stack!). He signed it, and handed it to me.
We had stopped and bought a disposable camera on the way there, so we posed for pictures while the SS agent played photographer... right there in the foyer of his ranch. it was freaking mind bending!
I damn near fainted multiple times.. I thanked him trying not to sound like a puppy pissing himself... and after hand shakes, and some teasing from my friend and from the SS agent, we left. It was the most unbelievable moment. I am SOOOOO lucky.
That picture and that flag are my prized possessions. that flag will stay in the distress configuration until Biden the usurper is thrown out of the white house.