Monday, June 23, 2008

Ganga for Lori

Lori was saddened that my mention of the Ganga in a post earlier this week wasn’t a story about pot. Well this one is for you Lori:

It was 1968 when I became of age in the use of marijuana. Rumors were rampant among my parents generation that even looking at marijuana leaves would lead to chromosome damage and that our children would be mutants. It would have been a better deterrent had they said that smoking pot would lead to becoming golfers or politicians. As children ourselves we could hardly consider or envision the day when we would actually want children of our own.

I started smoking pot with a girl named Donna when I was in the 7th grade. You have to remember that pot back then was nothing in comparison with the resinous stuff that is used today. The stuff we had looked like seeds and stems with some oregano mixed in. A person would have to smoke several joints to feel the effects that one would feel with two hits of today’s herb. An ounce sold for $20 back then. I have no idea what it goes for now. I haven’t purchased any in last 30 years, and I haven’t had any since New Years Eve, 2003.

I was a very casual user when I was in my teens, though every once in a while my mother will bring up Donna’s name and address here as Donna, that girl who got you hooked on drugs. I was never hooked I explain to her, but she will insist that I was hooked. Donna and I never did a lot of smoking. We weren’t real stoners, just classmates who occasionally smoked pot together when we could get it.

Donna eventually went to college got a degree and became a Registered Nurse. She married a nice guy and they had a baby who was unfortunately born with Downs Syndrome. So fixed in my mother’s mind is that this condition was caused by the chromosome damage from smoking pot. I no longer argue the point with my mother. At her age I feel she deserves to always be right in her assumptions. I just tell her in a passive aggressive way that it was a good thing I never had children of my own since Donna and I had taken up the herb a mutual amount of times. Oddly as a grand mother she will never agree with me on that statement. She would have liked to see me have some kids.


Blogger Beth said...

You beat me - I think I first smoked pot in the 8th grade.
I love that picture!

4:31 AM  
Blogger pril said...

the picture is great! I didn't smoke pot until I was 18. Gateway drug m.w.a, i did everything else first.

11:29 AM  
Blogger Mike S said...

Not sure what grade I was in, but I know 'Dad' just bought a '56 Buick. That stuff we smoked was gathered by my much older city cousin who couldn't believe it grew wild near the farm. That was before they sprayed all our nice 'weeds' a few years later.

2:47 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Beth and Pril if you loved that picture, I have one more for another topic that you'll like. I think what you liked about it was that it was a book,you book worm ; )

Mike, I've never seen it grow in the wild. Good thing, too. That would be hard to resist.

12:01 PM  
Blogger Hahn at Home said...

Awww, here I missed this. Packing the kids off to dad's. Thank you. Ah, the good old days when a nickel bag was $5.

3:59 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

And you got a quarter ounce in a nickel bag. Would $5 even buy a joint these days?

5:36 PM  
Blogger Hahn at Home said...

Let me check with my oldest kid.

9:03 PM  
Blogger Colonel Panic said...

G smoked pot.

I have a skinny eight track home recording of him taking marathon bong hits while pre-algebra major at a liberal arts school that now disallows all mind altering substances.

That sentence was knit together by a helluva coincidence.

Anyway G was the only stoner i have met who became more lucid, socially adept and less hungry after partaking.

I think smoking do' is more than just a rite of passage in this corner of the world. You have to choose not to take that ride and that actually puts you on a detour that more than one non-toker aquaintance has told me, is a strange outcast zone itself.

I dont go "there" much any more but I became so familiar with that place that I can always feel it just around the corner.

One invaluable piece of advice to any novices who might read this: dont smoke the hard things!

5:37 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Rock is hard, right?

10:37 PM  
Anonymous small g not big G said...

Must be talking about another G(uy). The capital G. I'm the lower case g.

'sides, I was ALWAYS hungry after marathon bong hits (i never inhaled). I have been known to buy frozen pizzas at papa aldo's and bake them in the sun before eating.

Also, 8-tracks were in when I was 10 and cd's were in when i was in college.

Also, it wasn't pre-algebra, it was pre-anyexcusenottogotoclass.

The moral of this story is if you are going to tell stories about "g", you have to make sure to at least have the generation facts right.

Guy: I saw a show once that suggested very small rocks float.

12:33 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Well g, I have no idea who the colonel is of who his G happens to be. As a matter of fact I really don't know you either. Just saw you a couple of times when you were on the PC.

3:04 PM  

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