I’ve never smoked weed… and I’m 30. I lose.

June 2016, the night of my kid’s band’s album release party. Well his version anyways. A rented generator, cases of beer and a setup in the woods. After the party got shut down about ten of them ended up at our place. It’s 2am, we live in a condo, ten drunk people in my son’s room doing there best to be quiet while thinking singing along to the replaying of my son’s album was a good idea. After a bit I got up, told them that while i did appreciate that they’re were trying to be quiet while singing that they were indeed drunk quiet. In other words, pretty fucking loud. I then tossed my son’s friend Ayla, a girl I’ve known since she was in sixth grade, the fattest double paper rolled joint. I told them it’s called “the nightender” and they should go to the park across the street and smoke it. It got them outside very quickly. Happy kids. Happy me and neighbours.

After I cleaned up and became a productive member of society (ok that might be a stretch!), I applied to be a citizen volunteer at my local police department. The written test had a few interesting questions like have you ever smoked marijauna? If so, how many times? At that point I had to ask for a calculator because I didn’t have enough room on the test paper to do the math. I did get the highly paid volunteer position, but the cop’s face reading my test responses was priceless.

OOooo I got my eye on this one, hoping to score at Grimey’s tomorrow, but doubt I will because I can’t camp in the parking lot tonight; the pros and cons of children, eh? Anyhoo the most wacked out I can reCALL is smoking something that I only later realized was laced with… something, LSD or A-dust… ended up in my house listening to Mothers Of Invention with my best friend – we watched as pyramids of smoke formed on the carpet and became solid, and was able to get down on our knees and peer inside the thing, watching all these wee people going about their business inside and around it, unbeknownst that they were being watched by two giant beings. How we were able to see the exact same things; and influence the goings-ons – and remember it – not only peering into an alternate dimension but interacting on some level. Yes people, they are there. There is far more to life than this single pane of existence. What I’ve heard so far of this album is reminiscent of these memories. And indeed before I even read this post had listened to a preview of this album, and was reminded of the above peek into alternate dimensions. Someone is super lucky to score this; I hope they can appreciate it and not just shelve it. “Sleep” is an experience, a drifting of consciousness, without having to use chemical propellants. Excellent choice Ben!

I got busted in the back parking lot of Car City Records in 1992. Cop was cool, just took my bag and wrote me up for a cracked windshield. In the old days that was my east side trip, hit BDT on gratiot for smoking supplies, and then hit Car City. I miss that place…

The year was 1998 I had dropped out of high school and moved to Telluride Colorado to pursue my dream of being a snowboarder by day / dishwasher by night (lofty goals at 17). Lived in a 2bedroom apartment with ski in ski out access with 8 other bro’s (Cha). In a town of 1,600 people when it went dry, it got really dry. And this drought was brutal, finally my buddy got a line on some hash and as the saying goes if all you have is hash smoke hash. (not really a saying) After three weeks of nothing but hash our throats were so trashed we came up with a home remedy. We started using a toilet paper roll with two toothpicks pushed through the cardboard making an X and we would fill the tube with ice. Since we didn’t have any weed to put the hash on top of we started using “hot knives” we would put two knives on our stove till they would glow red then drop a small rolled up ball of hash on them and press them together. A think stream of almost green tinged smoke would snake off the ends and we would suck it up through the toilet paper roll. One night we heard of a party in the “Ranches” these were houses that like Oprah and Tom Cruise and all these big shot celebs owned (one time got picked up hitchhiking by Lionel Ritchie and mistakenly called him Little Richard, Yes I did that, but that’s a story for another time) so we crashed it. This party was so fucking highbrow, it was like an adult party but it was huge and nobody said anything so we just walked in, started hanging out. We were catching looks but I think, everyone just thought we were with someone else, so we stayed. It got boring pretty fucking fast until my roommate Heath pulled the knives out of his back pocket. You have to picture this, this house is at minimum a couple million-dollar home, probably 100 -150 well-dressed adults milling around and the four of us got knives heating up on the stove and my other buddy is rummaging through the icebox to fill the paper towel tube we had just unrolled all the paper towel from on the counter. My buddy pinches off a solid chunk of hash and drops it on the glowing knives (we brought our own were not savages) and I’m hovering over them and just pull down this monster hit. When I lean back immediately my peripheral begins to shrink till it all goes black. Completely passed out (it was a first). On the way down, I was later told I spanked my head on the edge of the stainless steel 6 burner stove and gashed open my forehead. Woke up to Heath looking down out me “dude, oh my god, hahahahah, are you alright” He helps me stand me up and grabs the wadded up paper towel from the counter. My head is bleeding and I’m still reeling and feeling noodle legged, I look around and everyone in the party has stopped and is staring at us. The crowd literally parts and this short thick dude comes storming towards us. “Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are doing in my kitchen. Are those my knives?” It takes me a second to figure out who’s yelling at me, he’s got a round face, gray hair, not dressed nearly as yuppy as everyone else then I realize it’s Oliver fucking Stone. We tried to explain, but he wasn’t hearing it. I would like to say he was actually pretty cool about it cause I was a fan, as he and a couple other dudes shoved us towards the door and promptly kicked us out, but he wasn’t, he was a dick. I suppose that isn’t really fair, but that’s what I remember thinking. On the way out, the door my buddy is like “dude that was Darryl Hannah fuck me.” Turns out it was Darryl Hannah I saw her in town at the Downstairs Deli the next day when I was getting a burrito.

A long time ago, just out of high school, my girlfriend (now my wife) and her best friend (still one of our best friends) bought a bag of weed and some oil for a party they were going to but didn’t know how to roll so they asked me. I was almost done rolling it when my mom burst in and said “did you here John Candy just died?!?!” Then her jaw hit the floor seeing the three of us sitting on my bed with a pile of weed and oil papers. Needless to say she was not pleased.

. I hit a bong for the first time thinking you hit it like a joint – whoops! I thought 3 hours went by when it was really about 20 minutes. “Shit I gotta get to Coney Island!” (I’m a huge fan of The Warriors). I step outside somewhere in Brooklyn (im not from there) and know if i just walk straight I’ll get to the subway. About a block down I’m lost and just tell myself keep walking straight and you’ll see something familiar. The logic held up. I remember looking at people at the station and thinking i could hear everyone whispering “he’s so high, oh my god so high.” So i back up against the wall with my arms spread out like im holding it up just trying to ignore the whispers. Train arrives! Rocking back and forth thru flourescent and swirly lights I somehow end up at Coney Island….at 2 a.m. Everything was shut down like an episode of Scooby Doo except for one beaming mecca of hope in the middle of it all. The glorious nathan’s hotdogs. I kick myself everyday for getting chicken fingers instead of a Coney dog IN CONEY ISLAND. As i munched on my deep fried regret i found people fishing off the docks and i ran from cooler to cooler in awe of what i remember as mythical sea creatures. I did not shoot Cyrus.

I don’t smoke. But I went to 7/11 to pick up some grape blunt wraps for a friend and got myself some ben and jerrys ice cream. The counter dude told me “I know what you got going on tonight” smiling and nodding his head. I explained it really isn’t how it looks. Johnny straight edge over here isn’t getting high and munching on some ice cream. No more smile from the clerk.

I had only smoked a handful of times when someone at work said that at lunch they were going to go with some friends for a little pow wow. I agreed because of course I felt like a seasoned pro! By my work used to be some abandoned train tracks in the middle of this industrial zone. About 7-10 of us get in a circle and the pipes start going around. Well they kept going and going. I don’t even know how many passes but I felt like I could keep up. Then all of a sudden a deep panic hit me! The faint sound of Queens Of The Stoneage coming from the car stereo started to distort. I started to get panicky! The only thing I could do was stare at the ground. I got on my knees and and just picked a spot to stare at. I deemed anything else too overwhelming. They all started looking at me and asking what was the matter. I said I wasn’t feeling well. Lunch was over and I had to go back to work! I was really freaking out and got this feeling that I would stay in this state forever! I walked in and immediately my supervisor looks at me and asks if I’m okay. I tell him I’m sick I must go. Fortunately he must have seen what bad shape I was in. I went out to the parking lot holding on to guard rails and walls and staring at the ground. I got in my car and curled up in a ball but couldn’t sleep. 4 hours later I could finally drive. I never got invited to lunch with these guys again.

Also on the Hail To the Thief tour for Radiohead I took my mom to the Hollywood Bowl Show. In the middle of the show I look over and some random person is smoking her out. I look her dead in the eyes as I have never seen such a thing. She yells in my ear. “Oh, honey, it’s Radiohead!”