Cannabis - Ice Cream in the New Mind

When I was in 8th grade my good friend was DA. He lived across the street and we had been friends since he moved in about ten years before. We were very curious boys - as were many of our friends around the neighborhood. We did lots of strange and sometimes dangerous things when we were kids. But that was the natural state of the American boy in the 1970's.

like the early settlers of the 17th and 18th Centuries, we explored the woods all over the peninsula of our coastal neighborhood. We would steal bologna, ham or hot dogs, cheese, buns, Pepsi and chips from one of our refrigerators and then go far out in the woods where one of our many scattered meeting sites was. We'd light a small fire - bear in mind this was a different time, when kids knew things like how to light a campfire in nature responsibly - we were Cub Scouts after all. We never watched TV in the daytime (there were only 4 channels anyway - usually in black and white). There were no home computers. The Internet wasn't even anticipated yet. Back then, everyone thought the next 20 years were going to be spent in the development of space. Men were walking on the moon, the first Space Shuttle was being built. There were already space stations. As we NOW know, none of that really panned-out.

Along with the Big Foot and Bermuda Triangle crazes, UFO's and the fascination with space was inspiring some of the best science fiction: Star Trek, 2001: A Space Odyssey, A popular TV show called, Space: 1999, another called, UFO had run a short time, and eventually of course, Star Wars.

Every summer day was spent setting up small meeting sites or exploring new regions of the (then) extensive woodlands, marshes, and small tributaries of the two rivers on either side of the peninsula.

There was the site across the field, behind DA's house. There was the other site to the right of that field. There was the snowmobile trail that led down to the river there. Then behind my house was the small gully that then expanded out to the other river. Many high grounds had tall trees and we climbed every one of them. There was one in particular only a short way down the side street that abutted my yard. From that tree, one could see the water of the bay to the east and the distant mountains to the west. Someday I will go back to see if that tree still exists. It was at a small turn-off to the left of the dead end road, on a small cliff we affectionately named, "Blueberry Mountain" (for the bushes found on its side). Left to their own devices I suspect kids could very acceptably survive without adults, and even accomplish things that we more recently think of as adult-like. I know... We did it.

On rainy or winter days we found other ways to amuse ourselves. There were card and board games, drawing, fantasy games (war, space, Cowboys and Indians). We played records. I remember his favorite song (and it is a good one too) was “Rhinestone Cowboy,” by Glen Campbell. We played that damn record until it did nothing but skip. Ah, the joys of vinyl!

I think the first time my consciousness was ever altered was while DA and I were making plastic models. We were about 10 years old. They were WWII planes, as I recall. The door was closed and we had been working tirelessly on them for 2 or 3 hours. By the end of that time, we were cracking up, making jokes, laughing so hard we felt like we were going to pass out. We had NO CLUE that it was from the model glue we were using, until his mother opened the door and asked what was so funny. We just laughed at her. It didn't take long for her to connect the smell in the room with our joviality. We just thought it was strange that that could happen...We had no desire at all to “sniff” the stuff intentionally. We knew it was dangerous and frankly, we just weren't interested.

Cigarette smoking was very chic. Still, only a few parents that I knew of did it. DA's father was one. We knew cigarettes were "bad" even without being told. Still, at least for me, curiosity about WHY people smoked was a constant fascination. Our other friends, AS and DS (brothers) came from California and their mom smoked. I occasionally liked the smell of a fresh cigarette. But even then the drawback of everything in the house smelling like stale, old, dead smoke, somehow, didn't seem worth it. Strange to think that I would eventually live in that very situation as a smoker. DS and I were once caught by a Policeman trying to smoke some cigarettes that we actually bought (saying they were for his mother) under the bridge by the highway. His much older brother, AS, showed us how to smoke Pine needles - needless to say, a very disgusting and extremely short-lived habit. We were all impressed that he could actually breath the smoke into his lungs instead of just into his mouth.

Well, much later on, by my 8th grade year, DA and I had both tried unsuccessfully to smoke Cannabis. He, with another friend sometime earlier in that year, and me, at CH's house, up a little trail that led to a field we used to frequent. CH was there with EM and HG (all of us the same age). They had precariously stuck a piece of hash on a needle facing upward through a piece of cardboard. They were lighting it until smoke appeared, quickly covering it with a glass to let the smoke build up. Then they gently tipped the glass up and tried to inhale the smoke. It wasn't a very effective way to smoke anything. As I would later learn, much more efficient methods were available. Still they seemed to get off a bit. I didn't.

I realized later on that it was experiences like that that were priming me for the full-blown Cannabis high. Shortly after the hash attempt, I and my friend JG were invited by DB and his brother JB to see the Foreigner concert. That band had just released Foreigner Four, and it was a super album, filled with Top 40 hits. So we went to the show and when the band came on oceans of thick sweetish-sour smoke rose off the floor, like a mist or a fog. DB reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a joint.

He lit it nonchalantly and passed it to JG. JG didn't smoke it but passed it to me, and I refused too and passed it back. Yet, by the time the concert was over I did feel a bit “odd.” This was another “primer.”

So, subsequently, when the evening arrived that DA came over to my house to see if I wanted to walk down to the ice cream shop (something we did every couple weeks) and said he had a surprise too, I jumped out the front door and we began our journey...a sojourn to the New Mind. As we reached the official road to that same field behind CH's house, he said, “Follow me...”

Down that road was a new condominium development. We walked only a short way until we came to a small group of trees. He stopped, looked around, then darted to the right, into the shelter of the trees and I followed. We were now well out of sight from any cars that might go by, and it was pretty dark out too. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a joint. I was psyched to try it ever since regretting the pass-up at the Foreigner concert.

He lit it and took a hit. He said, “You're supposed to hold it in as long as you can.” Then he handed it to me. I eagerly sucked in that now-familiar sweetish-sour smoke. But MAN was it harsh and almost immediately I coughed it out. He laughed at me and then took another hit. I was determined to have success this time around, and when he passed it back to me I drew the smoke in more slowly, letting bits of outside air join it. That cooled the smoke enough for me to hold it. The joint seemed to last forever as it went back and forth. But when we finally and utterly spent it out, we looked at each other and knew we had achieved "the stone." I was blown away by how powerful the feeling was. This was DA's first time really being stoned too. We stood in the breezeway of the New Mind. The first feelings were indescribable. You had to be there...so to speak.

When we got our bearings, we headed back out of the trees and on to the field road. We walked back to the orange glow of the intersection with our street. Everything was super-clear looking. The peachy orange streetlights were like close, brown dwarf stars. We were 15 feet below these lights, but when I turned my face up to one, I could feel its heat. All we kept saying back and forth was, “Wow!...WOW!” Finally, we understood why people smoked this stuff. The feeling I had was one of unknown energy, mixed with that roller coaster impression of “safe fear.” It was – up to that point at least – the most exciting feeling I'd ever had. I felt a kind of self-confidence about knowing all the normal ways the world worked, but being somehow above everyone else who was straight. We were able to selfishly feel like we were seeing and experiencing the LARGER world...maybe even the spirit world.

Eventually we got to the ice cream shop, went in and took a booth. The regulars were all there sitting at the counter. One of my dad's friends was there. We felt so incredibly light-headed, yet still fully grounded. It was like being dizzy but happily at attention. He ordered a Tin Roof sundae (three scoops of vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry). I ordered a Dusty Road sundae (three scoops of coffee ice cream, hot fudge and topped with malted milk powder). We hadn't even thought about eating. We were far too interested in observing everything. But then the sundaes arrived...

And, by the good Lord in heaven, that first spoonful of ice cream was just like being transported straight to heaven. I imagined angels sitting around eating ambrosia, and that ambrosia MUST be ice cream! At this thought I laughed out loud. DA heard this and started laughing too. We made love to those sundaes orally and laughed more and more until we couldn't stop laughing. The taste was heavenly, the company was warm, the general feeling was simply...unbelievable. No matter how much stimulation our young minds were being subjected to, we wanted more.

After the sundaes were exhausted and we were able to calm down enough to pay the waitress (a very pretty, older, high school girl who was quite amused with us), we made our way out the door. Carefully, we crossed the quite highway, walking along its soft shoulder and then back through a small path on to our street. We were coming down a bit but still kept giggling at everything each of us would say. I wish I could remember our conversation, but it has faded in the last 30 or so years. It was close to 9 pm when we were approaching DA's house. I thanked him as he turned left and walked up his driveway and into the house. I kept walking on to my house, just beyond. Before going inside I sat down under a tree in the front yard for a long time and just took it all in.

Everything was still new to me. I was at the start of what I imagined would be an exciting life. I was almost through puberty and saw that the whole world was open to me. I was simply drenched in the joy of living. How could people go through their entire lives and not try things like Cannabis? There was SO much more to everything than I had been told about in school, or in church or by my parents. I was astounded by the layers there must be to everyday reality. Never, since that night have I felt the extreme joy of the first Cannabis high. As Paul McCartney expressed so openly, I had to get it “into my life.” And even though I've never reached that same level again with Cannabis, I feel so blessed to have experienced that height. And I genuinely thank DA for being the right person at the right time, with the right stuff to provide my new mind!

In subsequent years I have learned that a very acceptable high is finally leveled out for the frequent toker. And that has been good enough for me. I have even tried to re-capture that first high, by going without Cannabis for many months and then smoking it again—to no avail.

Still, the experience of getting stoned on Cannabis is always very fresh after taking a break from it. In fact, I still use that method, when I feel that I'm getting “used” to being high. This regular smoking, punctuated by periods of abstinence, IS the key to getting the most from the experience, while not becoming psychologically dependent on it. People who mindlessly waste it away watching TV or just using it all the time, even at work, are cheating themselves from the joys of MODERATION. In the end you will be a happier person if you use one thing for a little while, then move to something else, then something else, etc...than you ever could be smoking constantly. YET, in all fairness, if you were to do any kind of consciousness expanding substance ALL the time, it might as well be Cannabis. The legal drugs: sugar, caffeine, transfat, alcohol and cigarettes done ALL the time will kill you. Cannabis won't. Simple as that.

Cannabis has been such a blessing in my life. It has given me insights when I'm stuck, creatively. It has switched my mind from the anxiety and stress after work, to relaxation (by re-setting my mood) and acceptance of this current struggle as only being a small part of the bigger picture. It has helped me keep perspective on my goals and makes achieving them very satisfying indeed. Instead of being addicted to Cannabis, I am addicted to achieving goals, with or without weed.

It has been my partner in kicking the (tobacco) cigarette habit that was destined to kill me if I didn't stop; 15 years of two packs of Camel regulars per day. I HAD been a chain smoker but in 2000 was able to completely stop smoking butts. Thank you God!! And thank you, Cannabis, God's gift.

It keeps giving. It gave me something safer to use whenever I got into the habit of drinking too much each day. For a while I was in a band that toured bars and clubs all over the East Coast. There was always plenty of alcohol available. When it came to drinking I simply did not have the sense to know when enough was enough.

Cannabis was my savior in each of these cases.

Again, I consider it to be a natural gift from God. It should be completely legalized in all cases. Humanity is destroying the earth with blind ideologies; filling it with ignorance and contradiction. The human race needs to see from other perspectives; perspectives that Cannabis and the psychedelics offer in abundance for those who are interested. And for those who aren't, the ideas flowing in from their loaded brothers and sisters will give them what they've found, allowing all of culture to expand into the pursuit of truth, beauty and goodness. So far the pursuit has been one of greed and violence. Legalizing drugs is thought of as immoral and radical... But how much more immoral is the addiction to things; the acquirement of wealth for wealth's sake and the violence - whether legal or illegal - that supports it. The desire to alter one's consciousness is natural (even animals seek intoxication) and the uptight, constipated, puritanical groups who preach the hypocritical “anti-drug” propaganda will eventually be replaced by more open minds. This happened with the slavers, the male chauvinists, the racists and the homophobes. Now the final struggle is one of Cognitive Liberty.

This blog will chip away at the political habits of our culture and the unjust laws that nail innocent people to social and legal crosses, when all they want is sometimes for medical help, but, also for peace and happiness, and for their kids to grow up strong and healthy.

It is my intention to write my psychedelic memoirs, to also record the life and times of the many people I have interacted with - our adventures together, and the insights gained by taking risks, by not being satisfied with what culture tells us and most importantly, thinking for ourselves. Being unsatisfied with American culture's current value system, I have been looking for a way to speak to these things. It appears that for a while I've found it...


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Remember to wear your soul on the outside.