My stories are not made up but factual. I tend to listen to all types of music from Johnny Cash to Iron Maiden and everything in between. It’s nice to live in a State that Marijuana is legal, who ever thought I be smoking a Vape pen taking a Gummy or smoking a Pre-Roll which I prefer. Shit in the 80’s I was dropping Purple Micro-Dot and rolling joints dipped in phencyclidine,WOW what a trip. So for 30years I stopped smoking raised a family and got my shit together. My kids moved out years ago and Shit they legalized Marijuana it’s like I’m experiencing a whole new high, I like to say I’m going to 7-Eleven and then staying home. As I drink a Teton Breeze Fruited Sour and my turntable is spinning to U2 War I bid farewell and good luck to everyone. Be safe don’t smoke drink or drive and especially don’t smoke in public as the laws state.

Contrary to popular belief, I’ll never forget it!! We were around 13 years old in a small town in ‘93. Not a whole lot to do besides skateboard, bike, shoot things, and regular kids stuff. We got our hands on “some killer weed” probably from a dad’s stash. We’ve been told, “you might not get high the first time” so I thought I’d best make this worthwhile and smoke as much of that average sized joint I possibly could.
We finished the joint, friends were gigling and just having fun. We decided to grab some ice cream bars from the freezer, the kind with a stick. Standing around the kitchen table eating ice cream, talking shit and laughing, I was in a daze. My friends all start laughing and pointing at me. They’re like, “your ice cream!!” I look ever and 3/4 of the bar is melted all over my hand. “Woaaaah,” I say, and start laughing like I’ve never laughed before. I laughed so hard I couldnt stand up, actually fell over laughing. Tears are running down my face and I start thinking, “I’m crying because I’m laughing so hard, or am I crying because I’m so high!?” I feel the buzz throughout my whole body and just start freaking out. Still laughing, but crying, “I’m not ok guys!!” Someone says, “let’s go outside and see how fast we can run!!” I’m still freaking out, but one friend (still a close friend 40 years later) stays by side. He says, “Jimmy let’s go watch some Rocko’s Modern Life.” He say me down in front of the TV. Calmed me down, he laughed, I cried, then I laughed, and that was that.

So, I was hanging out with the guys from Sleep about two or three months ago, and we were all getting higher than giraffe pussy. I was just playing with a pot leaf that was lying around, twirling it between my fingers and such. And then, all of a sudden, I had a brilliant mind flash! I thought, man, how cool would it be if we pressed this into a clear vinyl record? All of the other guys just started laughing their asses off at me and I couldn’t figure out why. I said, what’s so funny? And then they go into the whole story and explanation of how Third Man Records has already ran away with that idea and that the vinyl was being pressed as we speak. I said, sweet! I need to get a copy of that ASAP! They all just look at me dumbfounded and silent. Again, I asked why the blank stares? After a few seconds, they finally spoke and said, Jeff, listen, you don’t need to buy the record because in a couple of months Ben Blackwell from Third Man Records is going to have a contest to give a copy of this record away for free, and you will be the winner! I just thought they were bullshitting me, and just trying to get some kicks at my expense, being as high as we were and all, so I just dismissed it and went on with life. Now, just as they predicted, here we are with their prediction becoming reality up to this point. So, Mr. Blackwell, are you going to make sure that the prediction made by the band Sleep becomes reality? Or are you going to prevent Sleep’s premonition from becoming reality and cause the band to break up forever, and prevent me from winning that badass copy of Leaves Beneath? The ball is in your court, Mr. Blackwell.

I was gonna clean my room until I got high
I was gonna get up and find the broom but then I got high
My room is still messed up and I know why…
’Cause I got high
Because I got high
Because I got high

This is a completely true story.

A few summers ago my friends and I were on our annual summer float on a nearby river. Historically speaking, the day is earmarked for friendship, laughter, partaking of a joint rotation and consuming many, many beverages in the hot Indiana summer sun. On this particular occasion, we happened upon a magic fish that had lived in the river for many years, had seen many decades of people on this river, and possessed the power of granting wishes. On this auspicious day, the fish agreed to grant each of us one wish, and each wish could not be used for more wishes.

My friends and I being very wise in our expansive elevated state each pondered what our deepest hearts desired. A working lighter? A ride to the nearest Mexican restaurant? A cozy place in the shade to take a nap? A ride back to town? We were not interested in settling for just any wish. Being empathically minded people, we explored what would be best for the greater good. We each decided on our wish and proceeded to speak to the magic fish one by one. My first friend wished for infinite riches and was granted wealth, the second friend wished for long lasting health for her and her friends, the third friend wished for long lasting peace for her and whomever she encountered and finally, when my turn arrived, I wished that our bonds of friendship remain unbroken. Once the final wish was spoken our wishes were granted and the fish disappeared into the muddy river bottom.

We didn’t feel physically different or changed as a result of those wishes being granted, but we knew we had witnessed a miracle that day. We also knew no matter how many times we told the story, no one would ever believe it happened. We continue the annual river float tradition, and even though we have never seen the magic fish again, our influence on the world and our bonds remain strong and unbroken. To this day, we start our float off with a toast and a smoke to celebrate the magic manifested by our friendships that day “There are good ships, and wood ships, and ships that sail the sea, the best ships are friendships and may ours always be”

When I smoke with my neighbor, his pipe is usually pretty plugged up and the weed is just a solid plug. So one night I pulled a huge toke thinking that it was the same pipe and same weed. However, come to find out it was a new pipe and the weed was ground. So, when I blew out it took what seemed like forever and they called me Snoop. Needless to say, less than 5 minutes later I could barely stand and felt very uncomfortable. I walked home and less than an hour later, I was vomiting. Ha ha, Snoop!

Wild night on mushrooms involved running away from laser beams being shot out from the spacecraft from war of the worlds and talking to the McDonald’s drive thru lady who I thought was sitting in my lap in the backseat of my car while rubbing my hands through her hair. It ended up being my girlfriend’s dog but I sure as hell didnt know that. Definitely was not my favorite night on mushrooms but it is the one that has the weirdest story involved with it.

After hiking in and around Yosemite for a week and then finishing off the trip at a Blues Fest in Mammoth soothed my aches and pains at the condo hot tub. I realized a couple were drinking tea? After inquiring they asked if I’d like some. I graciously accepted the magically tea. Being experienced in the magic of fungi I must say I wasn’t prepared for the journey I was about to embarked on. From antigravity, mind reading, x-ray vision the next 5 hours was me evading everyone but in plain site. Conversating but without saying words. Problem solving in different languages. I finally was coming down when it was explained to me that our condo wasn’t flying and it had finally landed. Never saw that couple again….they were fun.

My mother-in-law is no longer with us. And I’ve been divorced for a hot minute now. In the late 90s early 2000s my ex-husband and I lived with my mother-in-law. She was stable in her sobriety(drinking). And the only thing that we ever did was smoke weed. And we all smoked cigarettes. And she used to always tease us about why did we always Pass the Joint back and forth. She was a third shifter in a factory. And one afternoon after 3 or 4 years of knowing her. She told us that she wanted to smoke a joint. So I rolled a joint. And she says no no we’re not sharing. I want my own. Now remember she’s never smoked weed in her life. And this is not even anywhere near the crazy stuff that’s going around nowadays. My ex-husband and I we gave her that joint. We sat and shared one. She smoked the whole thing. And she thought it was going to be no big thing. And then she learned what the munchies and couch lock were. Needless to say she called into work that night. Mostly cause she was glued to that couch. My mother-in-law at that time she was in her mid late 50s. After years of us relentlessly teasing her about that night. She decided she wanted to smoke again. We asked her if she wanted her own. “No. I learned the first time why you share.” Moments like these I can still here her hilarious laugh.

Halloween 2001 was the first time I had gotten high with my parents. They had smoked my whole life so it held no real allure to me. The year before I had finally smoked for the first time. It was my first trip to New Orleans for Jazzfest and a friend of mine whose uncle ran a restaurant in the CBD lit a joint as he did religiously every day on the way to work because he had discovered the exact amount to roll to get over the Ponchartrain Bridge and I fell in line and puff-puff-passed because frankly, I can’t swim and not seeing land on either side in the middle of that bridge mortified me. Because I’d smoked with Russell I was ready for getting high with mom and dad

They told me the story of how they used to drive brand new Volvos from Texas to Memphis for a car dealership. They made a connect in Texas and would pack the trunks with pounds upon pounds. With dealer tags they never got pulled over.

They made enough money locally to where my dad started collecting $1000 bills as a hobby. In ’77 once they found out mom was pregnant, they sold all their extravagant belongings and put a down payment on a house that was in a neighborhood that was already considered “sketchy” at the time. Dad took a job building armored cars and they stopped doing all the “extra” drugs but never stopped smoking.

That night we all got super high. My brother called around and found mushrooms, mom made tea with them. We shot the shit like old friends until sunrise. We built a fire in the backyard and hit cinder blocks with sticks. We listened to dad talk about how underrated Badfinger and Klaatu were while listening to the vinyl pop on his shitty Panasonic solid state.

Dad passed away 4 years ago. I found mom with no warning on the couch last Christmas Eve and she was gone. She had told us like Willie to roll her up and smoke her when she died, instead I had some ashes embedded into three hand pipes, one for me, one for my brother, and one for my kid. We will be packing them up tomorrow to remember mom for “Danksgiving”.